#those big ol boots

[hrryshoney]

that’s my seat!!

[taciturnraccoon]

step on him!

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

it's time for another selfie-bomb! ... well, selfie, and my favorites of the newest crystals I bought

first up a pic of my new shirt and scarf; the picture doesn't do the scarf justice, it is SO shimmery and changes colors based on how the light hits it! and the shirt makes me feel like a Reaper who's undercover as a sexy maid XD

as for the crystals... bismuth first! the flash on the camera makes it look gold and almost pyrite-y, but that's just the flash being dumb, it is DEFINITELY bismuth

next is a UV-reactive crystal called yooperlite! before and after the black light shining on it. :D the picture also does not quite do the black light reveal justice... it's SO vibrant and neon under the black light, it looks like a Halloween rave!!

and, of course... my absolute FAVORITE of my new ones. the big boi. the king. the high exalted granddaddy. MY SELENITE SNAKE!!! guys this thing is gorgeous. it's also carved in such a way that I could actually use it as a charging/clearing stand for other crystals by resting them among the snake's coils. UGH I'm gonna be showing this bad boy off for months!!

I also took some pics a few days ago to post here, of me being silly with my fake 'pet' snake, so... I'll post those some other time.

today I just needed a pick me up after the last several bleh weeks, and these crystals and stuff were IT! <3 <3 <3

[sweet-milky-tea705]

Anyone have any tips on getting cat piss out of boots🙃

[bisexualiteaa]

Domestic Serenity

Soft Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Fem reader

Synopsis: You and Cooper return to your settlement you set up, it being the closest thing you could call a home on those harsh days in the sun and from the rad storms. After too many close run it’s lately out in the wastelands, Cooper comes home from the market to appreciate the closest thing you guys have to a post apocalyptic little slice of domestic life and show you how much he cares about you.

CW: Smut MDNI! Slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from the show, oral (fem receiving) dirty talk, established relationship, unprotected sex, p in v, irradiated cream pie, p0rn w/o plot, reader has a southern accent, Cooper being a perv, Cooper makes a few crews jokes and one liners to reader

AN: so I’m relatively new to Fallout lore and such, but the hubby and I finished the Fallout TV series a week or so ago and like most others, Cooper Howard’s got me in a grip tighter than his lasso. 😮‍💨 Please be gentle, I pulled a little from Fallout 4 and the TV series in a meshing that I thought felt right. This is briefly proofread but I’m still new to all things Fallout but I hope I did our cowboy justice and I hope y’all enjoy!

You were doing laundry for the day in your house, or better yet, what you could call a house these days, at the little settlement you set up for you and Cooper to live, and some houses for a good few other people you’d met along the way to make it into a nice small town. There was plenty of food to go around from the growing gardens, fresh, clean water, some electricity to keep the gates protected from raiders and things of the like, but also for some street lights at night. It was like a nice little slice of life before the war, or the closest you could get to it anymore anyway, it was peaceful.

It was a particularly sweltering hot day outside, hotter than usual as the sun beat down on the sand, and your skin when you’d step foot outside for even just a few minutes. “Shew, it’s hotter than hell outside” you exclaim, feeling the rush of the hot air that funneled in when Cooper set foot through the door. You were thankful to have chosen a pair of shorts and a tank top to wear out of your small selection of other clothes when you woke up this morning. “Don’t half mind it. Means I get to watch you pad around the house in them lil’ shorts you got on” Cooper said as he shut the door finally, then dropped his saddlebag and things off at his feet, having just come back from a run to the market to grab the essentials like RadAway, Rad-X, Stimpacks and some other chems and things here and there to keep handy for when you both set back out on your travels. You heard his boots clomp heavily against the floor as he drug himself inside, his eyes traveling your figure as you were washing some clothes in a wash bin, watching you bend over and your ass shake a little when you would scrub hard enough at some stains. He gave a crude whistle at the sight, one you were used to him using as a form of expressing that he liked something, making a small grin stretch to your lips. “Somethin’ tells me you’d make one hell of a sexy housewife” he said, coming behind you and tapping your ass playfully to get you to stand back up. You gave a chuckle before swatting at his hands as you turned to face him, making him only grin wider. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. Although I’d miss wanderin’ the desert with you and all the shit we get up to” you said with a grin, putting the rag you had in hand over your shoulder as he stepped closer. “Like annoyin’ the piss outta me and stealin’ my kills?” He asked playfully, putting his hands gently on your hips to pull you into a kiss. You giggled in response as you put your hands against his chest to keep him close. “You love watchin’ me kill things with that big ol’ gun’a mine” you said in between kisses, making him hum in agreement with you, or maybe it was a groan at the thought because you were right, the sexiest thing to him was seeing you with a gun in hand, cocking it back after taking down raiders, roaches, scorpions, or whatever your target may be, with the confidence you do. He loved the excited “oh yeah!” Or “booyah!” You’d say to yourself afterwards too in celebration before you’d both rummage through whatever it was you downed. “Oh I absolutely do. Like it even better when it ain’t my bounties you’re droppin’ there, lil’ missy” he quipped, making you giggle again as he tapped your hip with his gloved hand before parting from you to let you get back at what you were doing. Also to watch you bend over some more, can’t restrain a dog once it’s loose. “Just be a quicker shot honey bun, then it won’t be a problem!” You joked, twirling the rag that was over your shoulders in your hands to wind it tight before cracking it against his ass, making him turn his head to look at you from over his shoulder all slow and intimidating like. “Oh it’s like that now, is it?” He asked, turning towards you some more, making you flash him a wide, deviant smile, knowing exactly what you did and that you’d likely be paying the consequences for it here in a few seconds. “Maybe it is! Whatchya gon’ do ‘bout it?” You asked with a widening grin the closer he got.

Before he gave you an answer, he picked you up, placing you over his shoulder with ease. You yelped playfully as he did, still sometimes surprised by the strength he carried before laughing as you started to wiggle in his grasp. “Fix that lil attitude of yours ya got goin’ on” he said, tapping his hand against your ass again, making you only laugh more as he started to walk out of the kitchen away from your chores. “Cooper! I was in the middle of somethin’ there, put me down!” You ordered through your relentless giggles as he continued to walk, almost slow at this point to torment you. “No can do sweetheart. Not ‘til you’ve nicened up” he said as he brought you to the bedroom and threw you on the bed but not too harshly. Just enough to see you bounce and hear you laugh. “I was in the middle of laundry! Your shirts’ll get all starchy an’ stiff if I don’t do it a certain way” you said, sitting up some and getting ready to get up but he sat down with you, which stopped you. He gave you a grin as he looked at the way your thighs were squeezed by the legs of your shorts, and how short they were sitting on you. “My shirts ain’t the only thing gettin’ stiff, I can tell ya that much” he said, making you swat at him once more as he gave a raspy laugh at your blush and facial expression in reaction. “You fiend. You ever thinkin’ with that head on your shoulders? Or just the one in your pants?” You asked with a smirk, knowing all too well the answer to that question, not that you minded one bit either. “I think we both know they’re about the same, I ain’t ever seen you complain about it” he said, making you chuckle as he leaned in and pulled you into another soft, loving kiss that you knew was going to lead to something much more. “Not one bit” you replied between kisses as his hands rested on your hips once more, giving you a nice squeeze while also doing what he could to keep you as close as he could get. He always had his hands on you in some way, sometimes in a suggestive way, but most times in a protective manner. He had to show the others and everyone out there in the commonwealth that no one fucks with, or gets between him and his girl. “C’mon take a break, laundry can wait. I ain’t seen you all day” he said, and he always did have a way with words that made you weak. “Only if ya promise me you won’t get mad if your shirts get stiff” you said, making him laugh. “I don’t give two shits about how them shirts feel, I just need you” he replied, making you smile as that happy twinkle came to your eyes, and gosh how they lit up every time you saw him. “Then I suppose the laundry can wait” you said with a soft giggle as he started to climb over top of you as you laid back against the bed again. Your hair fanned out around you against the pillows like a halo, your eyes half lidded as you looked up at him expectantly with those siren eyes he swore turned his mind into a frenzy. You smiled up at him with those pretty white teeth before he kissed you, feeling his hands wander your frame over your tank top and moving downward as your arms looped around him to pull him closer.

Your one hand removed his large hat, placing it off to the side as the kiss grew more heated, your tongues tangling in a fight for dominance with one another, a battle which he won. You moaned into it as one of his hands slipped beneath your tank top, surprisingly free of his gloves as he groped one of your breasts, tweaking your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Let’s get this off’a you” he said, bringing your tank top up and over your head then tossing it to the side to be forgotten until later, trailing his kisses down your neck to your chest that now laid bare and exposed to the air. You were always a sight to behold to him, no matter how many times you had sex, or how many times he’d just seen you naked or even half naked, he considered himself lucky that you chose him. When he looked at you, everything felt right in the world again, even out in desolate wasteland. When you looked at him, you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, like he was your whole world, and he was. “My beautiful lady” he complimented before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, working his tongue and thin cracked lips along it as he toyed with the other in his fingers, being sure to give them both the love they deserved. You moaned as he did, your back keening up off the mattress some at his touch. It had been a while since the last time you two had a chance to have sex, so needless to say you were more than receptive to his touches. You shut your eyes as your head fell back against the pillow, soft moans leaving your throat as he switched treatments, leaving behind nice little hickeys as a reminder of who you belonged to. You bit your lip and casted your gaze down onto him as you felt his lips begin to trail down your chest to your stomach, before he was resting between your legs. “Much as I like these, don’t think you’ll be needin’ ‘em right now” he said, unbuttoning and sliding his fingers into the waistband of your shorts before tugging them down and off from you, tossing them aside as haphazardly as he did with your top. His eyes delighted him when he saw you lying before him in lace, a commodity that’s damn hard to come by these days, making him whistle before making another sound of satisfaction at the sight. “And you were just gonna let this stay hidden? You’re like unwrappin’ a present” he said, making you giggle as he was careful with them as he slid them off you, but tossed them aside all the same. “You’re enough to make a man like me go feral darlin’, ya know that?” He said, making you chuckle once more. “Gettin’ you t’ act a fool is my favorite pass time” you replied, making him chuckle before he placed one of your legs over his shoulder, laying teasing butterfly kisses to your inner thigh that trailed slowly down to your aching cunt.

“Thought I’d pick up some RadAway while I was down at the market today for ya, that way I can give ya what you’ve been wantin’” he said as he sheathed himself fully inside, giving you a moment to breathe and accommodate to his size and the intrusion. You gave a happy little gasp that made him give a dark chuckle in response. “How romantic” you said teasingly but you were truly warmed by it, a bright smile on your face that joined with the blush that came from him already prodding at the apex of your cervix. “Anythin’ for you sweetheart. Besides, be a real shame if this sweet ass a yours looked like mine because of my doin’” he said, making you laugh. “Oh hush you, you’re mighty fine in my book” you said, pulling him into a soft sweet kiss. “For a cowpoke anyway” you added to tease, earning a sharp snap of his hips against yours in retaliation, making a loud moan leave your lips. “Wanna try that again, darlin’?” He asked, making you blush a bit brighter. “Was just kiddin’, shit. But if that’s what I gotta do t’ get ya t’ be rough with me, might just have to get on all them nerves of yours” you responded, making him smirk down at you, god he loved that attitude and humor you always about you, it’s one of the things that kept him going through all this. “If you want rough, all ya gotta do is ask. Fair warning, I don’t play nice when I do” he said, snapping his hips once more to hit deep inside of you, making your back arch up off the mattress once more. “Fuck, don’t want you to play nice. Want you t’ fuck me like you hate me” you said, making him chuckle as he quickly pulled out, making you whine at the loss of contact before you were abruptly rolled onto your stomach and his hand reached into your hair to pull your body into a harsh arch. “That dirty mind and mouth a yours’ll be both our undoin’ sweet cheeks” he said, bullying his way back into your pussy, starting a harsh pace that had your eyes rolling back as his hips slapped against your ass harshly. “You and I both know ya wouldn’t want me any other way” you quipped, making him chuckle as he yanked your hair to pull you back some more, earning a loud moan from you. “Look mighty tasty like this, I could just eat you alive” he said in a low growl, his lips and teeth sinking to your shoulder, leaving a bruise and teeth marks behind, marking and claiming you as his. He felt the way your walls squeezed around him as you whimpered pathetically with his bite, and the way you grew wetter as he did. “Fuck…Cooper” you moaned, making him chuckle as his hands gripped your hips, watching as you moved your hips back and met his thrusts hungrily. “Sure is a pretty sight, seein’ you split open on this cock. Hungry little thing, swallowin’ me the way you do. Tell me who this pretty pussy belongs to” he said, making you grin proudly at his praise. “‘s all yours baby, only for you” you replied as you felt the bed start to rock back and forth and heard it creaking beneath your bodies as he found that spot inside you liked so much. For as hot as it was outside, you two fucked like it was the only way to keep warm. “Damn straight. Fuck…” he groaned, enjoying the sight of your ass jiggling each time his cock entered then reentered you and the sounds you made when it would happen. “So close…please, don’t stop” you begged, knowing full and well he never had any intentions to, but the words flew from your mouth as if they were the only thing you knew to say. You felt one of his hands leave your hip, coming to reach and rub tight circles against your clit, making that coil in the pit of your stomach wind tighter. “Cum for me baby” he said, working you closer and closer to your peak that was just around the corner, all you needed was one last push and he knew it, he could feel it with the way your walls hugged him.

He bit down on your shoulder once more, making you moan as you toppled over the edge. Your walls clenched around him tightly, earning a groan from him as your cunt spasmed and milked him for everything he could give you. Your mouth laid open in a wide O shape as your back arched, keeping him deep inside of you as his release creeped up on him from yours. He let out a deep, feral growl as he came inside of you with his teeth sunk into your perfect skin, missing the feeling of what it was like to empty himself into someone again. You hummed contentedly as you felt him fill you up, a pleasant tingle running through you as he laved over the teeth marks with his tongue. “You alright, sugar? Wasn’t too rough with ya, was I?” He asked by your ear, littering your skin with kisses as one of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your side. You gave a giggle. “You always act like you’re gonna break me” you replied, making him chuckle. “I just might if I ain’t careful, certainly ain’t known for being a softy for others sweetheart” he said, making you chuckle as he pulled out of you slowly, trying his best not to hurt or overstimulate you both, allowing you to turn around and look at him. “Maybe I’d like it if ya did, but no you didn’t go rough on me. Was perfect, as always” you responded flirtatiously but with a sweet smile, making him chuckle dryly once more. “Good, I’ll always take good care of my girl” he replied, leaning down to kiss you softly before grabbing a rag and wetting it to help clean you up. As he came back and spread your legs, he watched his seed leak from you, moving down your thighs. He gave a crude whistle. “Now that’s a sight” he said with a mischievous grin, making you roll your eyes with an entertained smile as he helped clean you up, laying a kiss to your inner thigh. “At least give me a little recovery time, I ain’t got that stamina you got yet” you said, making him laugh as he disposed of the rag and climbed back into bed with you. “And don’t worry, I had my Rad-X for the day. Though I gotta say, that’s a feeling that’s totally worth a little radiation sickness if ya ask me” you said, both of you giving a chuckle as you kissed him softly once more, your hand resting on his chest as you did. “Well, just t’ be safe, I got RadAway. Some for me to keep me from turnin’ feral and rippin’ you to pieces, and some for you for those nights you crave that sweet feelin’” he said, handing you the IV bag of yellow liquid from off the bedside table. “What would I ever do without you?” You asked, hooking it up to the rack and putting the IV in to allow it to take effect. “A whole lotta nothin’ good I imagine. Probably spend a whole lotta nights hoping them dainty little fingers a yours can achieve anything close t’ what I give ya every night” he teased with a grin, making you roll your eyes with a laugh but he wasn’t wrong.

His hand came to yours, pulling it to where your fingers would intertwine with his, something he always did when you used needles and medicines on yourself as a gesture of comfort. He pulled his inhaler and a vile of RadAway from his duster that lay on the floor as you let the bag drip slowly. He took a hit off of his inhaler, giving a contended sigh as he leaned back against the pillows and let it work its way into his system. He looked over to see you, admiring him like he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. He gave you a sweet smile, one pulled deep from his heart as you leaned your head against his shoulder. One that said the three words he’d been struggling to try and tell you after all this time being together, a loving look in his usually dark, haunting gaze. “I love you” he said, making you look up at him in astonishment that he’d finally come around to saying it. You smiled at him, that same sweet smile he saw the first time he ever sent a flirty word your way, the same smile he’d come to absolutely adore seeing stretch to your cute face every time you saw him. “I love you too, Coop” you replied back, easing the tightness in his chest as he awaited your response. He gave you a relieved smile as he kissed your head, slinging his arm around you to pull you into his side and hold you close.

The moment was sweet, quiet save for the sounds of your joined breathing and heartbeats but peacefully so. You both stayed like that for a good while, the bag of RadAway already run down to nearly empty. That peace was disturbed when you realized you still had some chores on your list left to do for the day. “Shit, I still got laundry and shit to do” you said, sighing as you realized it and tipped your head back with a groan, removing your IV and bandaging up your arm, getting ready to get up and go back to it. “Hold it there, little lady” Cooper said, getting up and putting his briefs and pants back on. “I gotchya. You rest that pretty head a yours while I take care of it, ‘kay? Let that stuff work its way in ya” He said, making you look up at him. “You ain’t gotta do that Coop…” you replied, making him shake his head at you. “Shh, shh, shh. Don’t you move a muscle there, pretty lady. I got it” he urged, kissing your head once more before placing his hat back on his head, grabbing his shirt from the floor and throwing his duster over his shoulder. “‘s a good look on you” you said with a half lidded smile, your eyes raking his form as he turned and looked at you, shooting a grin your way. “And that is a good look on you” he replied, tipping his head to gesture at you who still laid in bed naked, hair slightly messy, a few bite marks and hickeys littering your otherwise mostly unblemished skin. You gave a grin and a giggle as he stood there, a calculated look in his eyes as he looked you over, resting himself by his arm along the doorframe. “I think I can live without a couple extra shirts” he said, tossing his shirt across the room without a care for where it landed, dropping his duster along the chair in the room. “What are you…Cooper!” You yelped playfully as he climbed back onto the bed, a hungry look in his eyes as he climbed over top of you. “Chores can wait a day, I need you sugar” he said, leaning down and slotting his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft, sweet kiss. “I need this” he added genuinely, his tone soft and loving as he pressed his forehead to yours while he held one of your hands in his. “Been enough days out in that shit hole wasteland that got me scared I was gonna lose you, and that’s somethin’ I just can’t have. So I wanna enjoy this, this little slice of paradise we got right now, with you” he said between soft, loving kisses, making you smile as you gave in and kissed him back. Laundry could wait for another day, he was right, times like these were hard to come by. Needless to say, no other chores got done that day, but it was certainly a night neither of you would ever forget.

[whoreforsexymen]

SMUT | One-Liner Prompt List

Pairings: Anyone x Reader

Pronouns: Mix of GN!, Fem!Pronouns, etc. Will happily make any prompt request specific to your preferences 🤍

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Notes: Please feel free to send submissions using one or more of these!! 🤍 I can’t wait to see what characters, prompt combos, and ideas you guys come up with!!

Will be updating this list as I come up with more, or will be adding more parts. If you wanna see specifically themed prompt lists, lmk in my ask box!!!!

Will be creating a fluff list, too. Stay tuned 🤍

REQUEST/SUBMISSION INFO

1. “Stop looking at me like that or else I’m gonna cum too fast.”

2. “Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.”

3. “Ooh. The cat’s got claws~”

4. “No, no— Don’t let little ol’ me stop you.”

5. “No. Don’t take those off. Those stay on.”

6. “You didn’t seriously think I was gonna let you cum… Did you?”

7. “I’d rather watch you take something other than whiskey down your throat.” “Oh yeah? Like what?”

8. “Don’t mock me while I’m fucking you.”

9. “That’s a bold decision, considering how I’m balls deep in you right now.”

10. “Patience, love. Good girls/boys are patient.”

11. “Lousy manners won’t get you very far. Now. Try saying ‘please’?”

12. “I’d spank you but I think you’d enjoy it too much for it to be reprimanding.”

13. “It really is such a shame that you can’t tell me what you want with a mouth so full of my cock.”

14. “If you want my cock you’re gonna have to do a better job of convincing me.”

15. “Watch your tone. Don’t make me put you in your place.”

16. “Crawl.”

17. “Sorry, love, it’s hard to understand you with your face buried in the pillows like that.”

18. “Shut up and fuck me already.”

19. “Careful love, or I might just eat you alive before you can leave.”

20. “You’re just dripping, aren’t you? How bad are you aching for me to fuck you, huh?”

21. “Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.”

22. “Then I guess I’ll just fuck you up against the window, hmm? Make everybody watch. Since you clearly want an audience so bad, cause you can’t stay quiet.”

23. “You’re pretty demanding for a brat who’s done nothing to earn the right to make demands.”

24. “You talk such a big game for someone who can’t even put two words together when I’m fucking them.”

25. “If your eyes move from mine even once, I’m leaving. And I won’t come back. I’ll leave you here all alone. Aching. Begging.”

26. “You call that begging? Tsk tsk. You can do better than that.”

27. “You call that moaning? Tsk tsk. You can moan better than that.”

28. “You call that crawling? Tsk tsk. You can crawl better than that.”

29. “I won’t even consider fucking you unless you cum all over my boots first. Show me how bad you want it.”

30. “Lick it up.”

31. “Slow.”

32. “Easy.”

33. “Careful, little mouse. Keep talkin’ like that and I might just have to teach you a thing or two about respect.”

34. “That’s not nearly desperate enough.”

35. “Did I hear a please? My. You’re being so polite for once.”

36. “You’re being so obedient.”

37. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

38. “Don’t make me come over there.”

39. “I’m not pulling out. Want you full of my cum. Want to see that shit dripping out of you by the time I’m through with you.”

40. “So that’s why you had such an attitude, eh? Just needed a good fucking to pacify you?”

[evilminji]

Speaking of Summoning?

We don't see people fuck it up enough. Or CAPTIVES deliberately fuck up their captor's work. Like? Yeah, you are hogtied so tight you look three parts chain to one part man, but you can still WIGGLE.

Aggressively wiggle over that rune until it's too blurry to function! Kick at it with your heel until you scrape the paint! Smear that shit around! You're not here because you WANT to be! Fuck being a polite hostage. Make their life difficult!!!

Or BETTER?

The "$4000 bucks for chalk" take!

It's not the MATERIALS that make John "fuck you" Constantine a force to reckoned with. It's the DECADES of time, training, mistakes, fuck ups, FIXING those mistakes and fuck ups, then surviving the resulting fires.

Any idiot with a voice and some poor impulse control, can use most of those books.

John is GOOD at what he does, because he SURVIVED it. Knows when to stop. What to fuck up on purpose. HOW to do it. And what the results will be.

You're not impressive because you can light your dick on fire with magic.

You're just an idiot.

And when some "you are held back by your FEAR~!" Delusions of grandure fucko, one AGAIN crawls out of the muck like he's something God damned special, and not on the quick bus to a gory unspeakable end? Plays fast and loose with things that SHOULD NOT be let free? Yeah, John exhausts himself keeping millions of people from learning what the inside of Hell looks like.

Wakes up here.

Honestly surprised he wakes up at all.

Most of Dark is here. And Every Single One looks UNSPEAKABLY pissed. Like they got chewed on by a tree thrasher. That was probably on fire, given half the burns he's seeing.

The bastards monologuing, probably thinks they're hanging off his every word. Arrogant prick. Mostly though it's just intense eye contact and eyebrow charades over gags. Head gestures. Seeing who has what and if anyone's concussed. Honestly? You get good at shit like this, after a few too many times bound and gagged.

First mistake always is and has been, not killing them when you had the chance.

But... Zatanna is looking way too pale. And when she sharply gestures with her head? He sees WHY.

Blood on the floor. Not random. Just shitty, shitty writing and no binding agents. Oh sweet merciful fuck. It's not even CHARGED. No grooves to HOLD the blood in a way to keep most of it away from the air. Just splatter painted with some cheap brush on the unscrubbed floor, mixing and contaminated by god knows what, IN LAYERS.

Because it keeps drying.

Because OF COURSE IT KEEPS DRYING, YOU FUCK.

You are DOING IT WRONG.

Is he using THEIR blood? Oh sweet fuck he is. Are you ser-!? One of them is a CHIMPANZEE! Blood's blood literally changes! John's is fucked up! This idiot really things you can just slap it down like PAINT and trot off on your merry lil way, doesn't he? Why don't you just throw "Chemicals" at it next! Big ol bag of whatevers on hand!

At least he has people to share his outrage and horror with.

Oh god, is he STILL talking? Really. REALLY? How long has he...?

Wait. WHAT.

Crazy pants has "found" (more likely was lead by the nose too) a way to True Name Summoning people?! As in "kidnap from literally anywhere and bind them to your will, because unlike normal Summoning Targets they can't fuck off back home under their own power, so it's either submit or stay trapped until you die"??! Oh fuck. Oh shit, oh fuck.

And, OF COURSE, he's going to TEST his new fun trick?

On the Justice League.

Fucker, turns and starts chanting. John is closet, but everyone throws themselves forward. Even though none of them can really move, they have too TRY. His eyes shoot around the shit writing. Trying desperately to make out familiar symbols. Anything. Something. THERE!

He never thought he'd be grateful for all those far too drunk nights and pounding morning hangovers. But he is FAST wiggling across the floor, scrunching and swinging himself around, too sharply scrape the heel of his boot at the concrete floor, just inside that omenious off color Summoning. The layers of blood, painted down again and again to keep the "fresh", stick together like paint chips. Are raised just enough, his shoe tred catches, and all but pops the rune he's aiming for clean off.

Power surges as the spell completes.

He yanks his foot back before he runs the risk of losing it.

The light flares. And between one moment and the next? There are white hazmat boot standing just on the other side of the writen line, from John's face. He looks up into a young, pallet swapped, face. Nightwing, younger then he should be, wrong colors, different uniform. Confused look on his face quickly melting to that familiar "someone's about to get their ass kicked" look as he assesses the situation.

John grins like the MEANEST lil shark. (And yes, he DID steal this look of an ex.)

It WORKED.

Because half the people behind the kid? Not THEIR League. Hero's, yeah, he left that rune alone. But the "civilian identity" that was tied up in the "of this reality" one? Whoops! Guess it was forced to grab any applicable version of the Hero, from the Multiverse, who WASN'T currently off duty. Sure hope your bindings work on THEM!

AND it didn't tip off every single hero OFF duty!

The kid steps over the binding line, bends down, and snaps the chains around John with his bare hands. Offers him a hand up. He takes it. Gets a front row view of alternate versions of his colleges testing to see who is and isn't able to step out. Quiet a few are. Oh dear~, oh dear~. All these Heros! What's a lad to do, huh chucklefuck?

They would like a word.

@nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @babbling-babull

[warping-realities]

Beautiful Things

Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.

Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.

That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"

Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.

“Please, staaaayyyy…”

That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.

The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.

“I want you, I need you, oh God…”

But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?

Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.

Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.

“Alois, du bist dumm…”

He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.

But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.

“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.

“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.

“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane

It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”

Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.

Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.

“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”

“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.

“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”

The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.

But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.

“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.

After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.

“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.

“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”

“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.

“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”

This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.

Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.

Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.

“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”

“I… what…?”

“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.

“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”

.....

When he got to the dorm for international students  after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.

“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious  starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.

“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”

“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”

“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”

“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”

“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”

“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!

“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”

“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”

“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”

Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.

“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”

As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one  in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.

“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.

When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.

Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.

“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.

“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.

“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”

“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.

"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.

...

Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.

“You coming, bro?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”

“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.

.....

While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.

“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”

“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”

“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”

[cgunderwearstories]

The cowboy swayed through the deserted streets of downtown, his boots striking an uneven rhythm on the pavement in the quiet early hours of the morning. His broad-brimmed hat tilted low over his eyes, and his blue jeans clung to his legs—well, mostly. What he hadn’t noticed in his drunken haze was that the entire left side of his jeans had torn away from the upper thigh to the waistband, leaving his underwear exposed in a scandalous, unrestrained display.

The torn fabric revealed his tighty whities, snugly hugging his frame with a level of exposure that seemed almost deliberate. The leg band was stretched taut around his thigh, framing a hefty bulge that leaned prominently to the left, standing out under the streetlight like a beacon. Unfazed, the cowboy continued his swaggering journey, completely unaware of how visible—and vulnerable—he had become.

Up ahead, a group of young men, out for a late-night laugh, spotted him. They exchanged amused glances, nudging each other and smirking as they took in the cowboy’s oblivious stroll, half-dressed and none the wiser.

“Hey, cowboy!” one of them shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Looks like someone got a little too wild tonight, huh?”

The cowboy stopped, blinking as he squinted through the haze. He turned around slowly, wobbling a little on his feet, finally noticing the crowd of men approaching with broad grins plastered across their faces.

“What’re ya talkin’ about?” he slurred, pulling himself up straight. He tipped his hat back, a lazy grin spreading over his face as he tried to maintain a look of cool indifference.

“Your pants, buddy,” one of the men said, stepping closer and pointing at the torn side. “Ain’t every day you see someone sportin’ those good ol’ classic briefs like that. Real traditional, huh?”

The cowboy looked down, frowning in confusion as he noticed the gaping tear for the first time. His face flushed as he took in the sight of his tighty whities, unmistakably exposed, with the bold outline of his hefty package leaning leftward, perfectly framed by the torn denim. He fumbled with the torn edge, trying to pull the fabric over his underwear to no avail.

“Aw, hell…” he muttered, his cheeks turning red as he yanked at the loose denim, only to make the tear even wider.

One of the men stifled a laugh, folding his arms as he watched the cowboy’s pitiful attempts to cover up. “Laundry day, huh? That why you’re struttin’ around in those tighty whities?”

The cowboy shot him a glare, but his embarrassed expression betrayed his discomfort. “S’just… just a little tear. Ain’t no big deal.”

The group exchanged glances, their smirks widening. “Oh, it’s a big deal alright,” one of them said, chuckling. He reached out, giving the waistband of the cowboy’s briefs a playful snap. “You got yourself a real situation here, cowboy.”

The cowboy stumbled back, his face flushing as he tried to brush the man’s hand away. “Hands off!” he barked, though his slurred words and shaky stance did little to intimidate them.

“Hey, we’re just helping you out,” another man said, stepping forward with a grin. He grabbed hold of the remaining fabric on the left side of the cowboy’s jeans, yanking it hard. The tear split wider, and the cowboy stumbled as his jeans shredded further, exposing even more of his tighty whities.

“Whoa, hold on now!” he protested, swatting at the men, but his balance betrayed him, and he staggered to the side, clutching his exposed thigh.

“Look at him tryin’ to act all tough!” one of them laughed, reaching out to poke the cowboy’s exposed hip. “Gotta say, you’re makin’ a real statement with these tighty whities, bud.”

Humiliation boiled in the cowboy’s face, and in a moment of drunken bravado, he swung back at the nearest man. His fist missed, but he lunged forward, managing to grab hold of the man’s waistband. With one hard yank, he pantsed the guy, exposing a pair of sky-blue boy briefs covered in barnyard animals. The waistband was a contrasting, neon yellow, adorned with small, red stars—a detail that only added to the childish charm. The group erupted into laughter, the embarrassed man struggling to pull his pants back up while the cowboy stumbled back with a triumphant grin.

“Now who’s wearin’ the embarrassin’ underwear?” he slurred, his victory short-lived as he swayed unsteadily.

The men, now riled up, closed in on him. One of them reached behind him and, with a mischievous glint in his eye, grabbed the waistband of the cowboy’s briefs, yanking them upward in a vicious wedgie. The cowboy yelped, stumbling as the fabric dug into him, pulling tight against his skin.

“Not so tough now, are ya?” one of the men jeered, twisting the waistband even higher until the cowboy’s face was a deep shade of red.

The cowboy squirmed, managing to swat the hand away and turn around, but the men weren’t done yet. Another one of them lunged forward, grabbing the torn edge of his jeans and yanking hard, pulling the fabric downward in one swift motion. With a loud rip, the jeans tore even further, exposing nearly his entire left leg and leaving his tighty whities barely clinging to his hips.

But the worst was yet to come. One of the men grabbed the front of the cowboy’s briefs, giving the material a yank. The cowboy yelped as the white cotton stretched, the fly tearing open and leaving him in a humiliating state. His face burned as he struggled to cover his exposed cock, his once-proud swagger completely destroyed.

The group of men laughed uproariously, slapping each other on the back as they watched the humiliated cowboy fumble with his tattered clothes. He glared at them, his pride in tatters as he clutched the remnants of his jeans and underwear, knowing he’d never live this down.

And with that, the cowboy stumbled off into the night, his dignity left behind on the empty downtown street, the laughter of the men echoing behind him as he disappeared into the shadows.

[aaabatteriez]

candid sanji (in love) ᯓᡣ𐭩

⁺˖ not a writer btw just madly in love with sanji and in love with the idea of sanji being in love ☝️

ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊ ,,

since sanji is naturally flirty towards any young beautiful woman that walks by hes probably become very used to how hes normally treated by women / how he himself sees them.

like whenever he makes advances hes used to getting turned down or not rlly taken seriously but hes ok with that cuz sanji is number 1 ladies man. all he wants is to see women plural, hes not rlly a man who wants to settle down (not including wci that was lowkey forced marriage). hes a little bit of a player right? like hes a flirt to everyone not just one person.

but i think what would happen to sanji when he meets and gets to know someone and he realises that his feelings for that one person wasnt "wow you're pretty i wanna flirt with you too" but instead "i think i'm madly in love with who you are as a person and you're so beautiful that I will glady lay my heart out for you right now and spend the rest of my life with you and only you and id want nothing else" it genuinely scares him.

like he is TERRIFIED.

hes sure hes said something along those lines to other girls before.. but has he actually felt the weight of those words?? the burden of a heart that is so willing to be given to another?? not until now.

but that fear (AHHH!! AHH!! i was sooo scared!!!) doesnt compare to how he'd feel when that person tells him they would like all of that and would be willing to do the same for him.

dont misunderstand now, hes really really happy BUT HES ALSO SHAKING IN HIS BOOTS BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK??? 😭😭 ARE U FR??

he doesnt know what to do because no one has ever felt that way towards him before, and he hasnt felt this strongly about someone else before either

hes so happy but so so scared he's going to mess this up so he tries extra hard to be his usual self, the smooth talking romantic he always is

but it totally backfires cause all of his senses are heightened to the max and hes so fleeping nervous he cant think straight

charisma?? what is a charisma.

all his previous flirty remarks and witty pickup lines?? OUT THE WINDOW. hes tripping all over his words and there's a big ol lump in his throat that wont go away no matter how many times he gulps down hard and coughs

doesnt know what to do with his hands

instead of the smoothly rizzed up buttery sexy tone sanji puts on when he speaks, he sounded like a squeaky door hinge and at the same time he also sounds like hes sick with the flu

insert random silence

so fucking awkward. awkward silence. awkward punchline.

doesnt know what to do with his hands x2

forgets how to hold someone

is this okay?? is this really okay?? (as his hands are visibly shaking)

no cause his lovely lady would have to do all the initial physical contact and flirting before he can finally be an alpha and be a man and take initiative

again he just didnt wanna mess up

hes so worried about that person losing interest in him that he tries to act as his very best but it falls flat from feeling insecure / fear (ahhh!! ahh!! ok sorry ill stop)

abandonment issues!

oh he probably got real drunk and cried himself to sleep too aft messing up trying to flirt for the 1010929292938399th time

a lil bit of a pathetic man

but one who doesnt give up HES READY TO TRY AGAIN!!!

fails x2

₊ ⊹

・゜゜・．・゜゜・・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

[gilverrwrites]

Say His Name

Tim Drake/Reader, ≈1.1K

AN: Someone asked for cute smut with Tim Drake and this certainly isn’t it, but it is on the burner. I’m imagining him like mid 20s here, but you could go older or even a bit younger if you wanted. It really was just a thought, I did not expect this to surpass a couple 100 words but here we are.

CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, masturbation, vouyerism, withheld information, vaguely dom/sub dynamics. GN!Reader

Thinking about heroes with semi/famous secret identities finding out their favourite civilians used to have a big ol’ crush on them and being so.fucking.normal. about it, especially because you don’t know what, who you’re confessing to.

Particularly the bats (Bruce, Dick, Jason) but could also be like Oliver, or Clark. But in this case Tim.

Like he came to your home in the night, now he’s supposed to be sleeping off an injury or rough patrol in your childhood bed but he just can’t nod off so he starts looking around, searching for a book or anything to calm his mind when he find a draw full off magazine/paper clippings of himself. There are little stickers on them, your paired initials surrounded by hearts written in glitter pen. So cute.

The discovery plays on his mind until he sees you again, probably the next morning. He’s suited and booted getting ready to head out when you poke your head in to check on him. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, asking would mean admitting to snooping, to invading your privacy, abusing your hospitality but… “So umm, what’s with the Tim Drake murder shrine in your desk drawer?”

Your eyes bulge, lips pulled tight as you process the question, you’re adorable when you’re frazzled.

“Tim Drake-Wayne.” You correct with an awkward laugh, trying to diffuse your own nerves with humour. “What that? Doesn’t everyone have one of those?”

“Nope, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one.”

“Maybe, probably.” Your laughter is more relaxed now, but there’s still a sheepish edge to your tone. The fact that you’re accepting his teasing, despite having every right to be mad only fuels his fire. “This is embarrassing, I used to have such a huge crush on him. They used to be on the wall, but I didn’t have the heart to throw them out when I took them down.”

He’d hoped your confession would satiate his curiosity, the burn in his loins, but he’s still not satisfied and you’re not refuting him so he keeps pushing. Metaphorically and physically. He’s not touching you but he’s close enough to smell your body soap as he asks, “Are you still into him?”

Fuck he’s too intense, you can barely maintain eye contact with him. Why is talking about another man getting you so riled?

“I don’t really follow him but I guess he’s still pretty hot.” Music to his ears, a nice long therapeutic scratch to his ego. “Why?”

“Just curious.” He replies and though his tone is unbothered, he’s body language is not; he’s all sharp moves and tense muscles. He averts his gaze for a moment, examining your sheets for the hundredth time then looks back to you. Your hands are preoccupied, anxiously fiddling with the hem of your top and he’s suddenly overwhelmed by the image of you touching yourself to the thought of him with those same hands.

“So…” he cocks his thumb to the bed you know too well. “I guess you used to sit in that bed and think about him, huh?”

His drift is caught, he can tell by the way you look upward, that you’re thinking, hard. Considering your next move and he’s praying you’ll keep biting his hook. Your shoulders sag as you look back at him and he knows he’s got you cause that means you’re relaxing, letting your walls down.

“If I show you something, promise not to judge?”

“I promise.” There’s more! “Scout’s honour.”

He was never a fucking scout, but he gives you his best approximation of a salute anyway.

The bedside table had been locked last night, the key was hidden under the reading lamp but he’d figured you wanted it locked for a reason. He wasn’t completely without shame. Now that you’re rifling through it though, he figures it’s free game for peeking. Once you find what you’re searching for you snap the drawer shut but not before he catches a glimpse of a few choice items, things that could come in useful, if he gets his way.

“These are what I looked at when I was thinking of him.” You hand him a small batch of photos, print outs of him Tim Drake, most are from a specific day. He remembers when they were taken, he was 18? 19 maybe? It had been an unusually hot day at Ivy U. After a long workout out he’d left the campus gym without a shirt. The paparazzi had had a field day, and apparently so had you.

His mind is drifting again to how that might look and he has to see it, has to convince you to show him. Without warning he closes the distance between you. Your hands fly up, settling gently on his chest. Your touch is so soft, nothing like the way he grips your hips for dear life.

The two of you had kissed before, but not like this, never like this. This is searing and needy. He’s completely invading your sense and it’s making you dizzy. Body to body, tongue to tongue. He groans into your mouth and it makes your already tense core begin to throb. Wanting to hear it again you roll your hips, grinding onto him and there it is again; He moans as you rub against the solid bulge in the crotch of his suit. Eager to coax more of those beautiful noises out of him you reach down, hungry to run your palm over his length but he stops you with a fast, iron like grip around your wrist.

Without a word, he guides you onto the bed. The control he has over you is driving you wild, it’s in your eyes, in your blown-out pupil and the way they watch his every move, waiting for what he’ll do next.

When you’re snug against the mattress, he tucks your hand into your waistband, tugging at the fabric until you get the idea and start stripping them yourself. Once exposed, you don’t wait for instruction, unable to stop from stroking your arousal.

You’re not sure what’s come over you, just that something about Red Robin gets you so inexplicably turned on and you’d do anything to have him relieve that tension.

“You want me to touch myself?” It’s a redundant question you’re already touching yourself. He nods anyway, mask hiding most of the heat that has flooded to his face.

His hand reaches for yours and you hope for a moment that he plans to take over but instead, he cups your wrist, turning your hand just enough to spit on your palm, offering additional lubrication. The lewdness of his actions has you breathless

“Say his name.” He states it firmly, you’re lost for a second, looking at him with big empty eyes, dumb on building ecstasy. “Say Tim while you’re touching yourself.”

[boringa55binch]

put on them big ol' fazboots, superstar!

yeah remember those big red boots? that but it's freddy-themed. also if you notice that i keep flip-flopping between art styles... that's normal for me -_- i am the artist who cannot decide which style to stick with

[cloudshuffle]

first meetings. yan!boothill

nobility au

"Howdy!"

The man who doffs his hat at you is tall, even taller still than the professor and some of the guards you've seen around the palace, but lanky. With his dusty boots and hat, your impression of him is somewhat of a wild dog.

You don't know who he is.

You drop into a curtsy. A senator? Another noble who you were introduced to and forgot? You glance at your handmaiden for help, but she just shakes her head very slightly in response.

"Oh, what a polite lil' lady you are." He pauses to sweep his hat off his head and bow low in return. "Say, do you know where I can find the prince round these parts? Or his butler. You know, the weird blue one..."

"Aventurine? I mean, Prince Aventurine?" You have to correct yourself so quickly that you don't have time to laugh at 'weird blue one'. "He's..."

You give him a more careful once over. Surely he can't be a noble, or Jenna would have told you. The stranger has curious red eyes, shark's teeth, and a carefree air that you'd never catch anyone worth their salt in the palace dead with. But if not someone important, why else would he be looking for Aventurine with such confidence?

He seems to also be giving you a similar appraisal, because a different sort of smile graces his lips.

"'s alright if you can't say, missus." He leans in cheekily. "It's not always princes protecting their princesses, eh?"

"Perhaps an introduction might be in order," you reply firmly, refusing to lean away. So he's those types. "I might be able to help you better then."

He barks out a startling laugh and backs off. "And sharp! Always a good quality for a princess to have. My apologies, my lady. I'm Boothill. Jus' a lowly bounty hunter trying to locate my employer. See here, I've got a letter from the prince himself."

He bows again, and you follow, albeit reluctantly, and introduce yourself in turn, though you get the feeling he's already figured out who you are.

The letter does indeed have Aventurine's seal on it; down to the weight of the paper and the ink he uses (To whom it may concern, he's scrawled on the front), but Boothill pinches it away before you can inspect it any further. "Legit, ain't it?"

What kind of a name is Boothill? you think privately to yourself. "It is... legitimate, yes."

Boothill blinks innocently at you like he hadn't just tracked mud into the halls, and you relent. "I don't know where the prince is, but I'm sure we could find someone to help you."

"'bout high time." He grins, taking the bite out of his words.

You turn and start walking, and Boothill keeps up with you easily with long, languid strides. "Say, while we're at it, what say we nab something to eat? Been wandering around this ol' place all morning with no breakfast or nothin'."

"You could have stopped any one of the maids or the guards," you tell him levelly. "I'm sure someone could have helped you."

When Boothill doesn't reply, you look up at him. He has a wild grin on his face.

"Funny how I was galivanting round the place and the guards didn't notice me, huh? Ain'tcha curious 'bout me?"

You were, in fact. "I'm afraid I'm not in the habit of asking questions I don't want the answers to," you tell him instead.

Boothill shrugs, but something tells you your answer had pleased him. "Smart girl."

"My lady!"

The voice from behind sounds slightly out of breath and very familiar. Both of you turn to see Sunday, taking big, huffy strides down the hallway toward you.

"Mister Sunday!" You give him a cheerful wave. "We were just looking for you, actually. Boothill was looking for the prince."

"Howdy." Boothill doffs his hat again. "So you're the famed butler round these parts, eh? Lucky I found a lovely lil' lady to help me out."

Sunday gives him a strained smile, before turning to you. "Thank you for assisting our guest, my lady, but I shall handle him from here. Don't you have lessons to attend?"

[shotmrmiller]

I enjoy both ps Johnny and Simon but if I'm honest my main squeeze will always be ps Price.

He mostly does scenes set up in nature. Park ranger. Fisherman. Logger. Survivalist. Camper. Hiker.

He's known for how rugged he looks I'm hiker boots those olive green socks and khaki shorts. He's even got a fanny pack he pulls condoms out of. His tag line is "I'm always prepared.. to fuck!!" (OK I'm joking with that one but it makes me laugh)

He does the whole 'watch out! It's a snake! Arrgghh' and gets 'bit' on the dick so you have to suck it out.

The acting isn't great, slightly cheesy but his fans watch for the fucking, not the dialogue. He loves cramming ps reader's face into this - pillows, tent floors, trees, dirt, logs.

He always apologizes between cuts, he likes pinning you down that way. Cleans off their face with a makeup brush he keeps in his fanny pack so it doesn't mess up their make up before he has a chance to.

the fan fave is one where you're but a lost city doe wandering the woods and comes across big ol' lumberjack price who was cutting wood for whatever reason and he can tell that you're lost by the way your eyes dart around, 'flinching' at every thin branch snapping in the distance so price and his altruistic cock heart decides he's gonna take you back to the small town.

come on, his cabin's not far but now you're rubbing your thighs together because his flannel shirt is stretched taut across his broad shoulders. his worn and faded jeans clung to very muscular thighs. his 'beard' (price refuses to alter his original facial hair in anyway take it or leave it) frames his rugged face handsomely.

lucky for you, he hasn't had decent company in months and he'd be more than happy to fuck you before you leave. (when you ask him how he knew, he teases you by saying that he could practically smell your slick dripping onto your knickers)

ok ok and when you tell him to please keep those neutrogena wipes away from your face please they're terrible for your skin, hes already barking at his assistant to get whatever brand you want because he's no caveman. least he can do for making a mess is clean it up. which is where he proceeds to eat his come out of you :> (off camera)

he also will not admit that he loves seeing irritation bloom on your soft skin from the gnarled bark of the tree he had you pinned against.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiemas Day 7 - Mall and/or Job

pairing: steddie | word count: 1,884 | rated: G

“Munson Residence, wha'd’ya want?” Eddie groans into the receiver.

Whoever this is better be someone super fucking important to have woken him up with their damn ringing. He’s surprised Wayne didn’t wake up too, but it’d be kinda hard to hear the phone over those snores.

“Eddie! Thank god,”

Oh. Steve! Very important, actually.

“Oh, hey Steve, what’s up?”

“Eddie, can you do me a huge favor?”

“Yeah, of course, what’s wrong?” he immediately spirals into what all could have gone wrong, what could be going wrong. Everything dark blue and cold, vine-y and the flashing of red lightning—

“Nothing, nothing–well, something.. Can you please run to my place later today and grab my lunch? I forgot it this morning and I know I’m not going to be able to run back and get it and get back in time to eat it before my break is over.”

“Your lunch?” “Yeah, I packed one this morning but left it on the counter. There’s a key under the mat and everything.” Eddie barks out a laugh, “Tryin’ to get robbed, big guy?”

“I don’t care about any of the shit in that house.” Steve scoffs. He shrugs even though Steve can’t see him. “Fair enough. Sure Stevie, I’ll bring your lunch; when do you want me there?” “Dude, you’re the best; My lunch break is right at noon, can you be here just before then?”

“Got it. Five to noon at Family Video.” he drawls out as if he’s writing the information down.

“Uh, actually…not Family Video..”

A short two hours later, Eddie finds himself among a throng of people inside Melvald’s. He has to fight his way forward at first, but the crowd thins out as he gets closer to the registers.

Damn, he’s not even that far into the store and he feels like he’s ran a mile.

“Ms. Byers!”

“Oh! Hello Eddie, what brings you here?” “Steve called and asked if I could drop off his lunch to him. Do you know where he is? I didn’t even know he was working here.”

Joyce just grins at him. It’s weirdly mischievous. “Only temporarily, he’s near the back of the store. Just head back there and I’m sure you’ll find him.”

“Uh..thanks. See ya later Ms. B.”

He wanders toward the back of the store through the aisles, but stops up short when a fake white picket fence blocks his path.

The whole back corner of the store has been covered in fake felt snow, a couple of those fake plastic trees like Steve’s (though these are a normal size), a candy-striped ‘North Pole’, and dozens of paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling between what seems like hundreds of string lights.

And there, sitting in the middle of it on a throne that looks suspiciously like the one he used to use during Hellfire, is Steve. Dressed in a Santa suit. With long white beard, big ol’ belt and buckle, shiny black boots..

“Psst!”

He’s got something stuffed into his Santa jacket to give him the right shape, and even some small half-moon glasses, but those sparkling eyes, the freckles, that one swoop of brown hair stubbornly sticking out from under the fuzzy brim of his hat, that’s all Steve.

“Eddie!”

Santa Steve is fully enraptured by whatever story the kid on his knee is telling him, their hands waving every which way but somehow missing smacking Santa right in the face. Steve just continues to nod along, then gives them a hearty “Ho Ho Ho!” when they try to squeeze their tiny arms around his fake belly.

“Eddie!!”

He glances over at the sound of his name, and sees Robin waving frantically at him from her spot at old school music stand-turned-podium. She’s got on some sort of outfit that honestly looks like it was supposed to be a jester costume, where’d she even get that from?

His feet start toward her, but his eyes fall back on Steve Claus, now posing for a picture with the kid who’s smiling so wide it looks like his face will split in half.

Managing to take his eyes off Steve for a moment, he sees Jonathan behind the camera, and that Argyle kid is crouched in front of Robin, talking to the next kid in line to see Santa. All three of them are wearing matching jester costumes.

Eddie steps up to her podium after Argyle and the new kid pass in front of him to see Steve, “Family Video not paying enough, Birdie?”

She rolls her eyes, “Well, the extra cash doesn’t hurt. Joyce asked us to help out.”

He nods at her, and finds his eyes drifting back to Santa Steve.

This kid is much more shy than the last one, tilting her head down and taking short glances up at Steve’s face.

Steve is saying something to her, a low comforting sound that Eddie can only make out the tone of. His one hand covers the entirety of her upper back, and his thumb is moving up and down to try and soothe her nerves. His head is ducked down to be more level with her, looking at her over those half-moon glasses.

Suddenly, the girl’s head snaps up and Steve leans back a bit. “Yeah?” he hears him say.

The girl grins, nodding her head like crazy, then she too is squeezing Steve into a hug. It’s so unfairly endearing, he can actually feel his heart swelling in his chest.

Robin speaks up then, “So..?”

“So?” he repeats dumbly.

“So wha’d’ya think, Munson?” 

“Does he need a Mr. Claus?”

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

“Uh, wait, I mean Mrs.–Do you have— is someone going to—”

Eddie chances a look over at her…she’s wearing a smug, shit-eating grin. She leans toward him conspiratorially and mumbles out “I wouldn’t mind a Mrs. Claus myself.”

She leans back, still looking smug, but there’s a note of panic in her eyes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So would he.” he mumbles out himself, jerking his chin towards Steve.

Robin only shrugs “You never know.”

“You never—what do you know, Buckley?” he asks, stepping closer and pointing an accusing finger into her still smug face.

“I know that there’s some mistletoe hanging above the breakroom door.”

He’s confused for just a moment, then understanding floods through him, “You little—”

A short whistle interrupts his incoming tirade, and Eddie can see Steve Claus moving out of the corner of his eye.

“Sorry folks, it’s time for Santa’s Cookie break!” Robin calls out over the long line of people. “He’ll be back in 30 minutes though, don’t you worry!” the smile falls off her face as soon as she turns her back to them.

Eddie follows her, Jonathan, and Argyle toward the back rooms, “I’m gonna take a nap.” She says, “Tell Santa to grab me before he goes back.” She waves toward a door as she passes it and from the sprig of greenery hanging above it, this must be the breakroom. 

Robin takes a right down a turn in the hall, and Jon and Argyle push out the back door of the building.

He expects more of the same when he opens the door to the breakroom, for Steve to huff and grouse about the kids or the parents or something, but when he does, Steve is grinning ear to ear as he combs through his (now removed) fake beard.

“Hey Santa Stevie.”

“Eds!”

“I’ve got your lunch.” he holds up the brown paper bag for Steve to see. Steve nods, and lays the beard out on an empty chair, taking off his hat and glasses too and setting them both on top before stepping forward to grab the bag. “And you have hat hair.” Eddie laughs.

Steve’s free hand jumps to his head and scruffs up the long hairs, making them stick up every which way instead of just being plastered down on his forehead.

“Better?”

“Sure, big guy.” Eddie pokes Steve’s fake belly.

Steve chuckles, then heads to a table in the corner where he dumps out his lunch bag.

“So what’d Past Steve pack for Future Steve?” Eddie asks, plopping down in a chair kitty-corner from Steve’s. “Bologna and mustard sandwich, Doritos, and half of a leftover Hellfire cookie.”

“And a Coke,” Eddie says, taking a can out of his jacket pocket, “I grabbed one for you from your fridge.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” Steve smiles warmly at him. “You want some?”

“No way dude, you gotta get your energy back after dealing with all those kids, right?” Eddie says, waving him off. 

“Eh, some of them are little assholes, but most of them are really well behaved.” he’s ripping his sandwich in half, “Gotta impress Santa, right?”

He offers him one half, and Eddie takes it.

“It’s really not a bad gig, though the beard is itchy as hell…”

Steve starts talking about some of the kids who have come by in the last couple days of them doing this, having started on that past Monday, the 1st.

There were the kids asking for baseball bats, Lincoln Logs, Malibu Barbie, Rockstar Barbie (“Barbie’s a rockstar now?”, “Barbie can be anything, I guess.”), all the usual things.

Then there were kids that asked for actual Santa stuff, “I don’t want my mom and dad to get a divorce.”, “I wish I had some friends.”, “I want my grandpa to get better.”

“Makes me wish I actually was Santa, y’know? Then maybe I could actually help them.”

Eddie’s heart is definitely getting way too fuckin’ big for his chest.

He puts his hand on Steve’s forearm where it’s resting on the table between them. “You are a good man, Steve Harrington.”

Steve’s face flushes nearly as red as his suit. “Thanks, Eddie.” he glances above Eddie’s head then, “I better go wake up Robin, if she naps too long on top of the potatoes, she gets cranky.”

Eddie snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, better get on that.”

Steve stands up and tugs on his hat, not bothering to put on the beard and glasses yet. The fuzzy white band smushes a lock of his hair onto his forehead. 

“Hold on,” Eddie stands as well, reaching forward to tuck the hair under the bottom of Steve’s hat. “Now you’ll be ready to see your adoring public.”

“Thanks,” Steve laughs, walking with him toward the door.

And of course, Eddie forgot all about the damn mistletoe until Steve’s arm stops him in the doorway.

‘Jesus H. Christ…’

He glances over at Steve, then up at the offending plant.. 

Eddie looks back down, out toward the rest of the store where they’d be clearly visible in the doorway.

“I guess you owe me one, huh big boy?” Eddie chuckles, ‘Stupid plant, stupid Robin, stupid Ed–’

His thoughts are cut off when Steve tugs him back into the breakroom, moves him against the wall, and leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. The opposite to the kiss he’d given Steve three weeks ago.

Steve leans back, a smirk on his lips and a pink flush on his face. “Now we’re even.” he winks, then turns out the door to wake up Robin.

i may have actually kicked my feet and giggled about this one lmao

also, rockstar barbie mentioned here is from the 1986 Barbie and The Rockers set

also, also, i'm getting rid of the 'pre' before the steddie up top, you all know what's happening and where this is going lol - it's steddie.

other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) [YOU ARE HERE] | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) | Pt. 8 (Day 18) | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) also on AO3! this year

[pimosworld]

Push

Pairing- Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary- Joel never gets pushed too far, except when it comes to you.

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, jackson era Joel, established relationship, Ellie is a menace, reader is a bad ass, canon typical violence, blood, wounds, minor character death, protective Joel, protective reader, Angst, Smut,unprotected piv,Joel needs a big ol hug, no description of reader, no use of y/n.

WC-3.5k

A/N- Joel has inspired me lately and I may be procrastinating too much with him but I just can’t help myself.

[Main Masterlist][Joel Miller Masterlist]

Not beta read

Maybe you should’ve pushed back a little when Ellie suggested you travel a little further to the pond just outside of the patrol area. Some small part of you was still trying to bond with the teenager despite you knowing how much she admired you. It was a little selfish to want to impress someone that knew next to nothing about what the world had been. 

  She was so persistent and just like Joel you couldn’t resist those eyes and her smile. 

  “Please I promise it will be quick.” Her face was fixed in a pout and you thought what harm could it be to let her live a little. 

  You’d spent months on this route, many times with Joel,Tommy or Ellie. You hadn’t seen a living soul out here in so long that you forgot what you were even patrolling for. 

  You feel a push in the direction down the tall grass path as the sweat drips down your back. The first really hot day you’ve had in a while and it makes you dizzy. Unable to form a coherent thought. All poor excuses for not being able to make the right decisions. 

  You suppose the horses need a break too as the pond comes into view like a mirage. Ellie trotting a little faster when she sees the ripple of the water calling her name. You can hear it faintly in the distance calling out to you as the shade from the willow casts a perfect shadow onto the landscape in front of you. The lush green, tiny leaves still flowing in the light breeze before the heat has them give way to yellow and orange. 

  She’s already off her horse, socks and shoes discarded as she steps boldly into the water up to her knees. Joel would kill her for being so careless with her clothes but you know he often forgot how impatient children could be. 

  He was equally as impatient with you when you’d return from a long day of not seeing him, not being able to run your fingers through his soft curls at the nape of his neck. Not wanting to waste another moment with your body pressed up against his. He’d take you in the hallway when Ellie was gone, practically tripping over himself to get to you. 

  You try not to think about that now as you strip your boots off next to the water. Unlike Ellie you don’t fancy wet pants so you take those off too, laying them gently along the horse's back. You try not to think about how nice it would be to dip into this pond with him, bare as you float with your legs wrapped around his waist while he holds you safely under so not to expose you to the elements or any prying eyes. 

  Perhaps the prying eyes you would’ve seen had Ellie not pushed you into the cold water. It takes your breath away at first. Despite the heat outside, the last remnants of snow seem to still linger in this private sanctuary. The water is colder than anything you’ve felt. You come up gasping for air as she stands before you keeled over in laughter and you can’t help but join her when you look down at your disheveled state. 

  “Wow you’re so clumsy.” She says as she feigns innocence. 

  “That was a dirty trick.” You splash her as she screams running back to the water's edge. “I’m gonna tell Joel you’re afraid of water.” You yell back at her as your body acclimates to the frigid temperature. The oversized shirt you borrowed from Joel clinging to your skin as your hands skim along the tops of the water. 

  “You wouldn’t dare loser. I’ll tell him this was your idea.” You know she would too, and he might’ve believed her had the circumstances been different. 

  Ellie’s already lacing up her boots when you hear it. A disturbance in the trees too loud over the sound of your heart beating faster. The hair standing up on the back of your neck as you turn around and lock eyes with two men on horseback. Two men who’ve never set foot in the little community you’ve built into a family. Two men who don’t look like they want to ask for directions. Two men sizing up the competition while you scramble for a way to get Ellie to safety because you know Joel would kill you if you contemplated any less. 

  “Well aren’t you just an angel in white.” The younger man says as he takes you in. Your shirt soaked through leaving nothing to the imagination and your damn pants draped neatly on your horse. 

  You can hear your name being called again as you turn to Ellie, wide eyed across the pond. 

  “Go!” 

  “What the fuck no, I’m not leaving you!” She yells back, the ever overconfident spit fire that she is. 

  A quick whistle behind you and you’re moving to the water line before they cut you both off. It’s save Ellie or none of you. 

  “Ellie so help me god, if you never listen to me another day in your life listen to me right now and go!” She starts to protest but the horse beside her is getting restless. “I promise I’ll be right behind you.” 

  Even if it’s not true you say it all the same. She mounts her horse with tears in her eyes as she takes off through the tall grass. 

  “We got a runner.” The man not much older than Joel juts his chin on Ellie’s direction. You’re grateful she’s far out of your eyesight with her horse that’s much faster than yours. 

  “Want me to go after her?” The other man snarls as if you’re not standing right there. Enough of a distraction to at least make it near your horse. 

  The last thing you want is to be stuck between these two desperate souls. Without pants…that’s not how you expected to die. Wading through this cool oasis only to be met by the devil. 

  “No loose ends.” He smirks at you as you retrieve your bow from the pack on your horse. You don’t suppose he knew those would be his last words, but he pushed you to this. 

  You raise your arm high, steadying the bow as you feel the tension of the string beneath your fingers. Joel always said you were a better shot with this than a revolver and he could never figure out how. 

  “Now what are you gonna do with that besides piss me —“ . It’s only the sound of the whoosh next to your ear before he’s clutching his hands around the arrow lodged in his throat. His partner's momentary shock buys you enough time to at least get half dressed before you mount your horse. 

  His dramatic fall to the ground causes his horse to skitter off as you give chase in the opposite direction of Ellie, the opposite direction of the safe town that you love so much that holds the man who loves you just as hard. Who will be cursing you for being the savior when you could’ve been selfish. 

  ****

  Joel hates these days. Bright, beautiful, sunny days. It’s days like these where things always seemed to go wrong. Like the universe knows to throw a little chaos into something otherwise so perfect. Nothing in this world is allowed to be that perfect. Except you. 

  You were the reason he started drifting away from the gloom and overcast and started to bask in the sun. Let the warmth of the rays wash over him like a golden flame bath. 

  When he’d catch you laying in the yard just glowing and he never wanted to disturb you but you always seemed to know when his presence loomed near. Maybe his scent or the magnetic pull you both had on each other as you pat the patch of grass next you. He’d grumble about his back and his knees later but in those moments he didn’t care. Not when you smile so sweet next to him as you block the sun with your hand. 

  “Where’s Ellie?” You already half know the answer. If she was anywhere near she’d have been out here grumbling just like Joel about you laying in the sun all while joining you in the activity. 

  “She’s at a friends…why’d ya-.” He can’t even get the words out before you’re up. Throwing one leg over his waist as you push him down. He grunts and lays back rolling his eyes at your theatrics. 

  He doesn’t really think you’re gonna do what it looks like you’re doing and he’s proved right when you scoot down just enough to settle onto his chest. The front of you all warm against him as you breathe in the smell of his flannel. Your arms come to rest on his shoulders as you wiggles your ass a little more to find the right spot. He just looks down at you curiously as you tilt your head to the side and sigh. Finally content with your position on top of him, listening to his steady heartbeat. 

  His heartbeat has picked up a little at the close proximity of you. A position you’ve been in much more compromising in your shared bedroom with much less clothes. He can see it now as he closes his eyes, your naked body on top of his as you take from him what you want. You chuckle as you feel his cock twitch beneath you as he lets his mind wander a little further. That earns you a pinch which makes you laugh even harder. 

  “Quit squirmin’ honey or I’m gonna have to do something’ about this.” His hands grip your waist as he pulls you in closer and a shudder runs through your body. 

  “M’ not squirmin’.” You mumble into his chest. 

  “Mhmm, ya comfortable enough?” His voice is low and slow like he’s drifting off to sleep. 

  “Ya Miller, I’m comfortable.” 

  ****

  The sun is still high in the sky, but he can tell it’s later than it should be. He stands with his arms crossed against the gate staring off into the open plains. You and Ellie were always punctual with morning patrol returns. Or maybe he should say you. The routine you grew to love when you were first assigned. It left you the day to do what you wanted. Take a nap, read a book, make dinner and visit with Maria. 

  He’s growing impatient as he watches the horizon for any signs of you. His eyes playing tricks on him when he thinks he can procure an image of the two of you laughing about something as you approach the town. He squints even more and he can hear your voice now telling him in another life he’d need an optometrist. 

  He pushes off the gate when another image threatens to make him think he’s lost his mind. He thinks he has when his heart drops into his stomach at the sight of Ellie on her horse. Kicking up dust and riding faster towards him than he’s ever seen in his life. The two of you aren’t racing or playing some sick joke on him. It’s just her coming into view, panicked eyes as she locks onto his. 

  He doesn’t wait for Tommy, doesn’t wait for backup that may slow him down anyways as he mounts his horse to meet her in the open. Not bothering to tell the patrol past the gate what he’s doing and where he’s going. 

  He can see the dry tears and the fresh ones too as he gets closer to her. “Where?” He doesn’t have time to worry about the what, why or how. 

  “The pond.” She chokes out as he curses under his breath. “It was all my fault…I just -.” 

  “Save it.” It’s said harsher than he intends but he still can’t help himself. Knowing whose idea it was to go beyond the chartered territory. Knowing you had a weak spot who happened to be named Ellie. His quick bite is enough of a punishment as he takes off in the same direction she came from. He knows she beat herself up enough on the way here and probably made up time with the way she pushed her horse. 

  He leaves her in the dust as the sound of hoofbeats pound the dry ground beneath him. His chest burns like he’s running as he grips the reins tighter with each passing second. The sweat drips down his back that aches with the pressure of not having ridden this hard in years. He got too comfortable in this town, too used to the mundane way of life. He hadn’t been reminded of what it felt like to have that dread creep in. To feel the rush of adrenaline that he grew so used to in his past life. 

  He’s gone soft. 

  The relaxed fall turned into a lazy winter with no murmurs of trouble or infected. Spring made it feel like some utopia that they’d stumbled upon and he’d let the universe pull the wool over his eyes. 

  You shouldn’t be here…a bright sunny day as it beats down on him. Taunting him with how beautiful the landscape is around him as he barrels through the trees into the undesignated area. 

  The one rule he told you never to break because trouble lurks near water. People, animals, monsters. 

  He comes to an abrupt stop at the edge of the water searching for any sign of you. There’s an unfamiliar horse next to an unrecognizable body. He does recognize one thing jutting out of the man’s throat. An arrow. A clean shot, cutting off his airway. He likely died slow as his throat filled with blood and he choked on it until he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

  He tears his eyes away from the nameless bastard and locks onto your boots. His chest tightens even more at the sight and he’s trying hard to fill his lungs with air. He’s suffocating much like the lifeless body next to him. 

  He hears your shriek of his name as he whips his head around and sees nothing. Just the trees blowing in the wind. He shouts for you as the weight piles on. The horse beneath him grows frantic as your cries echo in his mind. 

  This is quite possibly the worst time to be having a panic attack but that’s all he feels as he bellows your name. Each call a heavier weight on his chest until  no sound escapes at all. He clutches at his shirt trying to rip it free from his body, it’s too hot and clingy and he can’t get any air. 

  “Joel!” Nothing, just blackness behind his eyes. “Joel, honey, wake up!” 

  His hands are shaking as he blinks trying to figure out where you are. 

  “Honey, look at me.” You’re straddling his waist with your hands on his chest. Fresh tears rolling down your face with wide panicked eyes. 

  He pushes you off him so fast it startles you. You’ve switched positions now as he traps your body between his arms. You’re not entirely sure he’s fully aware of the situation and that scares you a little. The sweat dripping from his brow and the way his chest heaves with every breath. 

  He pulls your face back with his large palms and grips your chin in his hand. Frantically tossing it side to side. “Are you hurt?” His voice is wrecked from yelling for god knows how long. 

  “No Joel, I’m fine.” You say as a tear that’s not yours drops down onto your face. 

  “Did he hurt you?” It’s strained and shaky as he pulls up your shirt, his that he lets you borrow at night. Inspecting your body for any signs of damage. You just shake your head afraid of answering in a sob, the lump forming in your throat at the sight of him still so worried. 

  He breathes in deep through his nose and lets out a small sigh of relief. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he lets the full weight of him fall into you. You’re both exhausted for completely different reasons. It was starting to scare you not being able to pull him out of this nightmare. He just kept screaming your name as you tried to shake him awake. You didn’t want him to endure any longer what was plaguing his mind when he was supposed to be sleeping peacefully at your side. 

  It’s a moment before he speaks. You rubbing his back as you kiss him softly reassuring him that you were right where you needed to be. 

  “Don’t you ever do anything like that to me again.” He murmurs into your neck in all seriousness. “You come straight home next time.” 

  “Yes Miller, I’ll always come home to you.” Now’s not the time to tease so you just agree to never commit whatever atrocity it was that had him gripped with fear. Although you can take a wild guess that your name will be scratched from the patrol board for a few weeks. 

  He sits up a little to look down at you. His eyes are still red but a little more of your Joel in them. He plants a long kiss to your forehead as you place your hand over his heart. The steady thump under your palm much calmer than before. 

  “Where’s Ellie?” 

  “She’s at a friend's house, remember?” 

  Faintly he recalls her asking and you telling her yes, that must have been hours ago. All he knows now is that you’re alone and that he didn’t wake her. 

  You’re alone

  As his hands drift under the hem of the oversized shirt. Your soft skin raised with goosebumps as his fingers trail up higher until he reaches the underside of your breast. 

  “Joel.” You gently stop him and search his eyes in the dark room. “Are you sure?” 

  “Please baby, I need you.” Joel groans out, his plea much different at this hour. He needs to feel that you’re real, that you’re here. The strongest soul couldn’t resist Joel Miller begging for you like his life depends on it. 

  When you oblige it’s frantic, his hands pulling the shirt over your head while your foot hooks into his boxers dragging them down. His mouth is all over you, kissing and biting and breathing you in. He’s growling in your ear that he needs to be inside you and you know he’s desperate when he normally takes his sweet time with you. 

  This isn’t like one of those times and you don’t need it to be. You just need him, all of him all the time. 

  A groan leaves his lips as you grip the base of his cock, rubbing it between your folds. You’re so wet already at the sight of him above you, his arms bracing his weight so you can like him up. 

  It’s sinful the sound that leaves your mouth when he pushes in,burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. “Shit sweetheart, so tight.” His words are slurred as he braces his hand on the headboard behind you. His other hand gripping your thigh over his waist. 

  You don’t have a chance to respond. Only moans and whimpers of his name as he punches the air from your lungs with each thrust of his hips. The sound of skin on skin as you cling to his biceps and shoulders, anything to keep you from tipping over the edge too soon. 

  He’s babbling above you about how perfect you feel and you just clench around him at the praise. 

  He’s close and he can see just as much as feel how close you are by the way your eyes practically roll in the back of your head when he angles your hips up, hitting that spot deep inside that only he could seem to find. 

  He reaches between your sweat soaked bodies trailing his hands down but you stop him. He thinks he’s done something wrong briefly until you place his hand back on your thigh and that look of longing flashes in your eyes. “I want to come like this.”  

  He grits his teeth at the filthiest thing you’ve ever said. Fucking you with vigor as his hips begin the falter. 

  “Can I?”

  “Fuck yes Joel, come inside me please.” 

  The pressure boils over at your words. The way it comes out all rushed and desperate. You’re arching your back as you fall over the edge with him. You’re clinging to him like a life vest as he groans in your ear. The light flashing behind his eyes at the most mind blowing orgasm he’s ever had. 

  He pushes down that feeling that he almost lost you. The one that isn’t real because you’re right here beneath him, looking at him as you brush the hair back from his face like he hung the moon. He kisses the corner of your mouth and down your jaw as you sleepily humm to yourself. 

  “I’m sorry for wakin’ ya darlin.” 

  “It’s okay Joel, don’t have patrol for a couple days.” 

  Tommy can bitch all he wants, you’ll never have patrol again. 

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