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lordprettyflackotara · 1 month

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more than friends || Sam & Colby || Part two

smut, 18+, minors dni. this is literally just pure long fucking filth with like the tiniest string of a plot

part one is here

Figuring out a relationship dynamic with both Sam and Colby wasn’t easy.

Sure, you expected both of them to be protective and loving. Sam often cooked you all breakfast, while Colby enjoyed paying for dinner. You expected something like this when you three had agreed to be more than friends.

And of course you expected them to fuck your brains out ever so often.

What you didn’t anticipate on was how competitive they were when it came to you.

They often bickered about who made you cum harder, who made your beg harder, etc etc.

It was starting to drive you insane, the two often bickering during sex and after it too.

You poked at your scrambled eggs, the constant nonsensical contest creating a persistent annoyance.

“No im telling you dude, did you see the way her eyes rolled back? I made her cum harder just on my fingers,” Colby argued, chewing a piece of bacon. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Her thighs were fucking trembling by the time I was done with her, nothing beats that,” Sam debated. You forced yourself to take a bite of your eggs, not wanting them to get cold.

“You’re on literal crack, didn’t you see the way she-” Colby began. You swallowed your eggs, slamming your fork down.

“Holy fuck you two are insufferable. If you guys are going to keep droning on about this why don’t we make it official? Tonight, both of you fuck me, and whoever did it better gets bragging rights, deal?” You offer. Two sets of blue eyes met yours, faint traces of guilt crossing both boys faces. “So you’ll be completely honest and won’t lie to protect our feelings?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. You couldn’t take his facial expression seriously, a small giggle escaping your lips.

“No Sam, I won’t lie to protect anyone’s feelings. I’m going to have to pick a winner so you both will decide to bicker about something else,” You agreed. Your boyfriends exchanged mischievous looks, the sight giving you a pit of anticipation forming in the bottom of your stomach.

You gave them simple instructions, to meet you in Colby’s room at ten pm sharp. You sat naked on the end of his bed, the velvet comforter beneath you satisfying to your bare skin. You didn’t want any clothes getting in the way. Their bickering and competition did annoy you, but it also formed an unexplainable arousal that you couldn’t ignore.

It had only been three months since your boyfriends had walked in on you touching yourself to the thought of them, that night changing your life forever. You absolutely adored them.

Almost as much as they adored you.

Colby was possessive of you, to say the absolute very least. He wasn’t a fan of polygamy, until he met you. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he fell for you, but he could remember exactly when he realized Sam did too. It wasn’t a grand reveal, something he was sure that Sam didn’t realize he revealed. They were both editing a new video, ensuring to crop you out per your request. The very last thing you wanted was to piss off your best friends fanbase.

“This sucks dude, I don’t like doing this,” Sam sighed, cutting a piece of the video out. Truthfully, both of the boys thought you were more entertaining than they were. Especially with your reactions. “Me either, I mean her reaction to the chair sliding in the other room right here is golden,” Colby said, pointing to a particular time stamp in the video. You had the cutest expression, grabbing almost Colby’s arm instinctively. Sam dragged the mouse over to the part Colby was referring to, double clicking it and watching the video back.

“I respect what she wants, but they’re going to figure out about the three of us one days anyways,”

It was something about the way he said it. Or maybe it was the way he chose to word it. But Colby knew right there and then that Sam loved you just as much as he did. And that meant if you felt the same way, you wouldn’t choose either of them.

Sam eyed Colby carefully as he slid off his hoodie, revealing his undershirt. In most cases he wouldn’t have thought twice, the brunette in front of him his best friend. But tonight, he was nothing other than competition. Sam wasn’t possessive like Colby was, but he was helplessly jealous. He couldn’t help it, every fiber in him screaming envy when Colby held your hand, fucked you, tucked your hair behind your ear.

It didn’t matter what Colby did with you or to you, it made Sam crave to be in his place. He respected and enjoyed the dynamic that was established. He would never want to share you with anyone other than his best friend. He knew jealousy in a relationship was his toxic trait, and it only enraged further when you took them both in the bedroom.

Both boys assumed they had the upper hand, being self aware of their characteristics. Sam purposefully agreed to letting Colby go first, knowing the sight of you under the brunette would make him go feral from envy. Colby opted to go first to remind you of who he was. He wanted you to remember you belonged to him. Colby wasn’t planning on playing fair, he just wanted to win.

It wasn’t long before both boys entered the room, eager to begin the long night ahead of them.

Colby whistled at the sight of you, your naked body a sight for sore eyes. Fuck, he could never get enough of you. Sam respectfully took his seat in a nearby chair, giving you both space while also providing a wonderful view to the show he knew was about to start playing.

“Hi beautiful,” Colby greeted. You stared up at him nervously, trying hard to ignore Sam’s gaze. You intended on doing exactly what you said, voting a winner to ensure they’d never bicker again.

With that intention meant whoever was in front of you had your full undivided attention.

Colby towered over you as he met your lustful eyes, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. He dragged it down teasingly, soaking in the image of your doe eyes anticipating his next move.

The control in the bedroom often rotated frequently, depending on the mood everyone was in. A majority of the time the boys were in control, even when you had them one on one. On occasion they’d let you have your fun, riding them while spewing degrading words they’d mock you for later. But by the way they both eyed you, as if you were prey, you knew any ounce of control was not going to be in your hands.

“Lay back for me princess, spread those pretty legs of yours,” Colby ordered. He threw his shirt over his head, his well built body making your pupils widen as you did as he asked. Had he been working out more? How hadn’t you noticed this sooner? You were so fixated on him that your brain didn’t process him walking over to your nightstand. He grabbed an all too familiar pink vibrator from the drawer, causing you to swallow. Hard.

“You’re going to hold this onto that pretty clit of yours. If you move it without permission I won’t let you cum, understood?” Colby asked, his voice an octave lower than it usually was. You nodded, watching as he turned the vibrator up to its highest setting. You gulped nervously as he handed it to you, watching as you placed it onto your throbbing heat. The vibrations made you whimper, your core desperate for some sort of release.

Colby grabbed you by your legs, dragging you down to the edge of the mattress. He kneeled down in front of you placing kisses on the inside of your thighs. Teasingly he brought a finger to your entrance, your hips pleading for him to get on with it. “So wet for me all ready, all over a little plastic toy,” Colby purred, soaking in your desperate noises.

He brought one finger inside of you, then two, curling him deeply. Your back arched off of the bed as the brunette picked up the pace with his fingers, abusing your g spot. “Look at that, your backs arching for me and I haven’t even bent you over yet,” Colby observed, smirking as he glanced at his best friend. Sam could feel his boner aching against the fabric of his tight jeans.

“Bet Sam couldn’t make you feel like this, could he?” Colby asked, squeezing your thighs as he finger fucked you. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to restrain yourself from mindlessly agreeing with him. Sam smirked at your resistance.

“Looks like you’re going to have to try a little harder then that Colby,”

Sam’s words cut Colby’s ego like a knife, his blue eyes narrowing as he centered his attention back on you. In a swift motion he spread open your cunt, before playing the vibrator back directly on your clit. You squirmed under the feeling of his fingers and merciless vibrations, throwing your head back as you moaned. “You can take it, I know you can. Go ahead and cum for me,” Colby ordered, admiring the sight of you crumbling before him.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten, a mischievous smirk dancing across Colby’s lips as your walls squeezed him tighter. “Go ahead and tell Sammy how good you feel,” Colby said, cocking his head to his best friend. You bucked your hips against Colby’s fingers, the filthy confession spewing from your lips,

“Fuck it feels so fucking good Sammy, I-I-I-”

Your orgasm was about to crash down on you, Colby’s spare hand turning your head.

“Look at Sam while you cum for me,” He whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You gripped the handle of the vibrator harshly, whimpering. You looked at your blonde lover, hardly able to take in his expression as you fell apart on Colby’s fingers. Sam couldn’t take it anymore, unbuckling his belt as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He knew it was only a matter of time until he made you feel that way, but the waiting was only driving him more insane.

As you settled down from your high you went to move your vibrator, Colby’s strong hand stopping you. “What did I say? Keep it here,” He ordered. You felt his fingers slide out of you, your legs beginning to tremble from the overstimulation. He brought his cum covered fingers to your lips, grinning as you squirmed beneath him.

“Open your mouth,”

The command was simple, one you followed without a second thought.

“Now suck them clean whore,”

Colby shoved both of his fingers into your mouth, satisfied as he felt your tongue swirling around them. You were genuinely sucking them clean, the taste of your own juices coating your tongue. Your body felt electric, the sensation of the vibrator causing whimpers to non stop escape your throat.

“You dirty bitch. Turn over, all fours. I want you to look directly at Sam as I fucking ruin you,”

You struggled to get into position with the vibrator on your clit, the sound of Colby’s belt clinking sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Your eyes landed on Sam, who was his own panting mess. You could tell he was trying to pace himself, his face pink as he pumped his shaft teasingly slow. He knew this wasn’t the main event, just a show. But fuck, if only you could see yourself.

Your lips parted as Colby rubbed his tip up and down your slick, the way your back arched causing Colby pushing you down further into the bed. If it were up to Sam he’d burn this image into mind forever.

Your legs nearly gave out as Colby pushed himself inside of you, his strong hands holding you by your waist. “Fucking shit, you were made for me,” Colby groaned. He gripped your waist tighter, pinching at the tender flesh. You could feel him bottom out, his tip brushing against your g spot. You whined as you sank lower into the mattress, any composure you had completely washed away.

Colby started off slow at first, taking in the feeling of your walls milking him. The merciless vibration on your clit was overstimulating you to euphoria, your body practically vibrating on its own. “You’ve done so good for me baby, you can take the vibrator off of your pretty clit now,” Colby purred, continuing his teasingly slow strokes. You bit your bottom lip as you removed it from your cunt, your folds aching as you set it aside on the bed.

“There’s only one more thing I need you to do for me,” Colby panted, trying to keep himself together.

You licked your dry lips as you maintained eye contact with Sam, watching him quietly whimper as he jerked his cock to the sight of you.

“W-what’s that?”

“Be as loud as you can.”

Out of instinct you went to ask him what he meant, his hips snapping into yours without sudden warning. You couldn’t control the sounds that escaped your throat as Colby pounded into you. He gripped your waist so hard you could feel bruises forming, his cock abusing your g spot as he pleased.

“Fuck! Colby!”

His name was all you began to know, your vision growing hazy as he fucked you into the mattress. The brunette leaned forward, pressing the side of your face into the sheets below you. “Thats it, let Sam know who’s making you feel this good,” Colby groaned, grabbing a handful of your hair.

Colby’s thrust were merciless, his body seemingly have a mind of its own. For a brief moment he almost forgot about the bet entirely, too enamored by the feeling of your cunt taking him so well. It wasn’t until he heard Sam’s faint whine that he snapped back into reality. “Such a good girl, taking your owner, so well,” Colby spat, his orgasm approaching. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, yanking you towards him.

Your back was pressed against his chest, his mouth buried into the crook of your neck as he fucked you from behind. He snaked one hand to your throat, squeezing the sides gently. You swallowed under the feeling of his hand, Colby recognizing your body getting close again. With his other hand he began circling your overstimulated clit, causing you to cry out. “There we go, give poor Sammy a good show and cum for me. Cum on my dick,” Colby ordered. He kissed the side of your neck sloppily, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

“Feels soooo good,” You slurred, the knot in your stomach a rope threatening to snap. Your eyes were screwed shut, unable to open from the addicting pleasure. Colby squeezed your throat, his hips beginning to stutter. “Look at Sam as you cum for me, fucking do it. You’re mine,” He ordered. His words sent you over the edge, your small hands grabbing at his wrist as you came. Faint curses escaped Colby’s lips as he quickly pulled out, forcing your face back into the mattress as he jerked his cock.

You could feel the warm ropes of cum paint your ass, the tender flesh now coated with his seed. You were a panting mess, swallowing hard as you struggled to regain your breath.

Sam eyed you carefully, recognizing the exhaustion your body was experiencing. He glanced at Colby, who was quick to switch spots with him. The brunette had an indisputable look of pride painted across his face, one that annoyed Sam. The blonde stripped, tossing his clothes aside. Gently Sam flipped you onto your back, taking in your abused figure. He brushed some stray hairs out of your face, gently stroking your cheek as he admired you.

You slowly opened your eyes, your body coming down from the never ending high the boys planned on providing you. “Hi,” You greeted, giving him a small smile. Sam returned the sweet gesture, Colby’s presence fading away into the background as he focused on you. “Hi,” He replied, your perky nipples rubbing against his chest. You whimpered at the slightest sensation, causing Sam’s eyebrows to raise.

“We don’t have to keep going, I know Colby purposefully went hard-” Sam began rambling, his words being cut off by your soft lips against his. Sam returned the kiss eagerly, addicted to the feeling of the fire you sparked within him. You pulled away first, giving him a serious look. “I know the safe word you know. I want to keep going. I can handle whatever you give me,” You said boldly. Sam frowned as he heard Colby snicker.

“Whatever you say princess,”

Sam tilted your head to the side, preying on the side of your neck Colby hadn’t touched. His lips started off gentle, pecking soft kisses across your skin. Involuntarily he felt your hips buck up against his, rubbing against his hard cock. He began sucking at your neck, littering your skin with as many marks and bruises as he could. He wanted to see you covered in his love marks. He wanted to see you struggle to cover them up. To blush like crazy when anyone noticed them.

He kissed down your neck to your chest, gently pulling and twisting at your nipples. Your soft noises were sounds of encouragement, his lips stopping right above your waist. “Are you sure you’re able to handle me?” Sam asked. He teasingly pressed two kisses lower, his hot breath fanning over your puffy folds. You nodded, mumbling a verbal yes as your hips bucked upwards.

The blonde licked a stripe up your cunt, your juices coating his tongue. “Shit Sam-” You gasped, your hand flying down to his blonde hair. You tugged at the roots, desperately trying to drag his mouth back to your cunt. Sam met your gaze, smirking as he placed a light kiss on your folds. “Cmon princess, use my mouth the way you need. Make yourself cum on my tongue like the desperate slut I know you are,” He huffed, flattening his tongue for you to use.

Sam wrapped his arms around your thighs as he dove into your dripping cunt. You could feel him lap at your folds as if your taste was addicting, the blonde sucking at your abused clit as if his life depended on it. Colby could feel himself getting hard again, the brunette in denial that he was getting turned on by this. But the way you tugged at Sam’s hair, mixed in with the lewd noises of him lapping at your cunt, was too much for the brunette to ignore.

Sam craved friction, his selfish needs causing him to buck his own hips against the mattress. He was desperate for any form of pleasure, his own whimpers muffled by your cunt as he stuck his tongue inside of your entrance. You just tasted so fucking good, he couldn’t help but be greedy. He continued humping the sheets as your thighs tightened around him, the blonde sensing what was coming.

You could feel another orgasm approaching, your legs violently shaking. Sam forced your lips open, his strong hands keeping them pried apart. This orgasm felt different, the constant overstimulation pushing your body to new heights. “Fuck Sam I- I can’t hold back any longer, feels so fucki-” You babbled, your thighs trembling as you squeezed around Sam’s head. You felt a different cord inside of you snap, your juices coating Sam’s face as you came.

Your face was beet red as you realized what you had done, the blonde unfazed as he licked your cunt clean. You had never, ever squirted from head before. You sat up, embarrassed as Sam continued licking you clean. At this point he was licking your inner thigh, ensuring you were thoroughly cleaned by his tongue. “That was the hottest thing I think i’ve ever seen,” Sam chuckled, slightly out of breath. He marveled at your bright red face, leaning over you.

“I’m so so sorry I-”

Sam frowned at the sound of your apology, his hand harshly grabbing your chin.

“Don’t apologize, if it were up to me i’d make you do that all night long,” Sam began. He froze mid sentence, glancing up at his best friend. It was relishing seeing in the same chair he once sat, cock in hand as he watched Sam have his way with you. “But unfortunately I have a competition to win,” He finished. Sam grabbed your legs, sitting them on both of his shoulders.

He slapped the head of his cock on your puffy folds, the feeling alone causing you to audibly whine. “I’m going to fucking break you,” Sam grunted, pushing himself inside of you. Your body was spent, your entire body feeling as if it was going to be engulfed in flames. “Sammy,” You whined. The blonde leaned forward, allowing you to claw at his back as you pleased.

Your walls dragged him in, causing him to bottom out quicker than he expected. As much as Sam would never admit it, he knew he needed to act quickly to make you cum one last time. He could feel his own orgasm coming, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. “One more, that’s all I want,” Sam cooed, picking up the pace. You felt like you were going to split in half, your moans jagged and incoherent babbling and whimpers. You could feel tears flooding your waterline, the overstimulation becoming overwhelming.

You didn’t think being cock drunk was real until that very moment, where nothing else seemed to exist but Sam and his cock pounding into your dripping cunt. “You feel so fucking good, you know that don’t you?” Sam asked, groaning as he snapped his hips back into yours. Your nails were digging into his back, the skin surely red with fresh scratches. That pain you were unintentionally providing, along with your walls squeezing him to death, Sam thought he may cum too quick if he thought about it too much.

A devious thought entered Sam’s mind, one he was surprised Colby hadn’t thought of.

“You know what I think i’m gonna do?”

The blonde briefly glanced at Colby, whose eyebrows were raised.

You barely heard what Sam said, hanging on for dear life as he abused your g spot. “I think i’m gonna cum inside of you, make you mine,” Sam borderline announced, resuming his full focus onto you. He got close to your ear, ensuring you had heard him. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be my personal cumdump?” Sam spat. You whined in agreement, a final rope in your stomach beginning to tighten. Your legs were trembling, your throat strained from all of the noises you couldn’t help but make.

“Awe that’s it, cum for me. You’re gonna look so pretty full of my cum,”

His words barely registered, your vision getting hazy as you came again. You could feel yourself getting dizzy, your mind spinning from your fourth orgasm. You were panting like a dog, faintly feeling Sam cum inside of you before pulling out. You were covered in sweat and tears, your mouth dry and pussy dripping with cum.

It wasn’t long before you felt a cool wet wash cloth brush against your forehead, wiping away the sweat before brushing away the tears. As your vision settled you recognized Colby’s concerned eyes, soaking in your expression as he cleaned you. “Hi Colbs,” You whispered. You looked for Sam, your eyes instead finding Colby had came a second time, his white ropes painting his stomach. “You can clean yourself up you know,” You say, trying to move his wrist away from tending to you.

“You’re more important,” He grumbled, his complete focus on you. Sam returned into your line of sight, tossing Colby a towel. You had been repositioned to the edge of the bed, the blonde kneeling in front of you to clean your abused cunt. His blue eyes looked up to greet yours, his lips pressing a loving kiss onto your thigh. “This may sting,” He warned. Sam gently began wiping your cunt, the feeling alone making you grab his wrist. He went slower, careful to avoid your puffy clit. They wanted to ensure you were clean and taken care of, no matter what.

You sat up on your elbows, your eyes widening as you looked at Sam’s back. Long red scratches trailed down his shoulder blades to his waist. “Holy fuck Sam i’m so sorry,” You rambled, immediately feeling bad. Sam chuckled as he admired your horrified facial expression. “It’s a badge of honor, don’t apologize. And may I say, a token of victory?” He asked curiously. You weren’t sure how to announce a winner, both boys overstimulating you into heaven.

Two sets of curious eyes landed on you, trying to conceal their eagerness.

You glanced between both boys, shrugging.

“I can’t decide, guess we’ll just have to do this again tomorrow,”

#sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x reader

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sizzleporkandmmm · 5 months

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sub sam fans pspspsppsppspspss

18+ UNDER THE CUT

!!very much explicit!! contains oral sex m!receiving, light dom/sub aspects. if this is not your thing, that's fine! but i recommend not reading :)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

sammy had been a slut all night, taking a page out of his brothers book, and really going at it. he didn't hold back from the obscene faces, and arching his back, practically thrusting into his bass.

you could tell from side stage he was getting all hot and bothered, especially when he hit his bass a little too hard, voice stuttering, teetering towards a moan, as he sang his back up vocals. you could see the smirk as he eased up, he knew you were watching, knew you were getting flustered as you surveyed him.

there were plenty of punishments you had in mind, some that would really make him regret his behavior, but there was something that had been on your mind, and this was the perfect time to enact.

so when he came off stage, all sweaty and buzzing from the post show adrenaline, you promptly ignored his behavior. "hey, baby," he crooned, leaning in to plant a kiss on your lips. you met his lips in a sweet kiss, pulling away as you felt him trying to advance. "ah ah, darling," you sang, "good boys have patience." his eyes darkened, as he straightened, taking a step back.

you stood, eyes looking up to meet his. "go clean up baby," you said, patting him on the cheek, "there's something waiting for you when we get back to the room." and with that, you pushed him towards the dressing room and lockers. you smiled as he staggered towards the showers, winking as he looked back at you.

for the rest of the night, sam was positively insufferable. whimpering and whining in your ear, all the way back to the hotel. the elevator ride up was a bit awkward, what with his brothers standing there with you, trying to make small talk while sam pretended like he was perfectly fine. but he knew he was in trouble. and your stern grip on his hand proved this thought. the elevator signaled your floor, and you stepped out, dragging him with you.

"he has to play good tomorrow night! don't be too rough on him," josh teased as you pulled sam down the hallway.

you opened the door, "strip, then go sit on the bed." you directed, watching his adam's apple bob in anticipation. he followed your direction, sliding out of his sweats, "ah!" you said, before he sat, "play me a song, won't you, baby?" you purred, grabbing the bass he kept in the room, and holding it out to him.

he raised an eyebrow, "wh- i thought," he trailed, voice high and light, "oh, sweetheart. you don't have to think around me. now play." you sat in the arm chair as he began to pluck out a tune, body of the bass resting on his bare thigh. he watched you with a careful eye, not resisting humming along to the song. you stood, crossing the room slowly, stripping yourself of your tshirt, stopping in front of him, tutting as his fingers slowed. "ah ah darling, keep playing," you instructed, two fingers tapping his chin, titling his back back to meet your eyes.

"now. since you think you can be cute, act like a slut on stage, we're going to practice." your voice came out low and sultry, and you could see his confusion. "don't worry baby, it's not that hard, don't hurt your little brain by thinking too much," you teased, sinking to your knees. "scootch up love, come to the edge of the bed," you hooked your hands onto the back of knees, pulling him closer, until his cock came into view.

you giggled, "you think you're so funny, don't you sam," you said, wrapping a soft hand around him, tugging harshly as he missed a note. you smiled wickedly as he hissed through his teeth, "i'm only going to explain this once, sam. you are going to sit here, at let me do what ever i want to you. and each time you mess up, we're going to start over. do you understand? if you stop playing, you don't get to cum," you sang as you tapped his balls, cock hardening in your grasp. you watched as his breath stuttered in his chest, "words, baby. do you understand?" you asked slowly. "y-yes. i understand." he whispered, fingers slipping off the string's clumsily. "see, now if you wanna be a slut on stage, you can't mess up while you're making a mess of yourself. that's why we're practicing, because i'm so caring, isn't that right darling?" you teased. watching as he clenched his eyes shut, "yes" his breathed, "you take care of me s-so well."

"so play me a song, love. show me how well i take care of you."

he played while you made yourself at home on your knees, running your finger tips along his length, flicking the tip as he played a sour note, "focus, love," you whispered, finally tightening your grip, providing him with some relief. "fuck," he whimpered, fingers moving in muscle memory along the neck of his bass as he rocked his hips into your fist. you lowered your head so your lips rested against the tip of his cock, you blew lightly, waiting for him to mess up, lucky for him, he kept playing as smooth as can be. wrapping your lips around him, he let out a soft moan as you took him further into your mouth, tongue working to provide extra friction, humming against him as a rutted into your mouth. you pulled off, "good boy, you're playing so well for me," you hummed, "please, p-please you-" he begged. "use your words sammy." you said sternly, giving him a harsh tug, too rough to be pleasurable, smirking as he cried out, "want your mouth," he breathed.

"good boy," you replied, before wrapping your lips around his length once more, taking him to the hilt, hollowing out your cheeks as you bobbed your head up and down. his whimpers and whines got louder as you kept on, breathing through your nose so you didn't have to pull off. your lips curled into a smile as you pulled out, tongue circling the tip, "fuck baby, i'm gonna cum," he cried, hips rocking. you sucked lightly on his length, hands tracing the rest of his length, you could feel his hips stuttering as he reached his orgasm, you kept your place until you heard a sour note, the string sounding dull and distorted. you pulled off harshly, watching him buck into the air, bass forgotten about as he let out an anguished moan. "fuck, fuck. why'd- why'd you do that?" he cried, hands tightening around the neck of his bass.

"i told you, love," you explained slowly, "you mess up, we start over."

you watched as the tears of desperation formed in his eyes. "i'll be good, please, please, just let me cum." he begged. "well that's not up to me darling. you have to play with out messing up. then you get to cum."

"fuck you're so mean." he gasped, and you stood. "fine, then don't cum at all." you said simply, moving towards the bathroom. "wait, wait! i'll be good, i'm sorry, im sorry." he sobbed, on the verge of a ruined orgasm as he rutted against his bass. "be careful now, darling. your bass doesn't need a new paint job," you laughed, "now keep playing."

you took your place back in front of him as he resumed playing. "now be a good boy, and play all the notes right, and you can cum." you reminded, smirking wickedly. you could tell sam was into this, and it made you positively giddy to know he was enjoying himself. you leaned forward, pressing a kiss against the side of his cock, mouthing hotly as you moved up and down his length, before taking him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks once more. you could tell he wouldn't last too long this go around, so you decided to make it harder for him, dragging your teeth lightly down his length, bring a hand up to make up for the length that wasn't in your mouth. "shit," he panted, eyes squeezed shut, head dropped back, jaw agape. you were honestly amazed he was still managing to play. you bobbed your head swiftly, hands gripping at his thighs, taking him all the way, swallowing around him, his fingers stuttered slightly against the strings, but you excused it, you know he was going to reach his high any minute now. "shit, baby, oh god," he chanted, you looked up at him through your eyelashes, watching as his stomach tightened, eyes shut in pleasure and focus as his hands shook against the strings. with the combination of the vibrations of his bass against him, and you swallowing around his length, he finally reached his high as he plucked out a specific pattern, "shit!" he cried, cumming down your throat, bucking his hips as you hummed around him. you pulled off with a pop, watching his chest heave, and in a surprising turn of events, watching his fingers move in practiced motion across his bass, coming to a stop as he came down from his high.

"oh my god," he panted, flopping back onto the bed, you groaned as you stood, knees cracking from resting against the floor for so long, sighing as you joined him on the bed, moving his bass off of him and next to you on the bed. you rested your head on his still heaving chest, eyes tilted up to meet his gaze. you reached a hand up to brush the loose hairs from off his face, "doing okay?" you asked.

"yeah," he sighed, smiling dopely down at you, tracing a finger along your back. "was that good?" you asked, voice suddenly small. it was a new thing, you were unsure of it still. "baby. baby," he said, sitting up, "i think that was the hardest i've cum, like ever. fuck, i'm still dizzy from it. thank you," he said, smacking your lips together. "okay. okay, good." you smiled, patting his bare chest. "well, you have a show tomorrow, so let's get some sleep, hm?" you said, shifted to pull the covers over your bodies. giggling as you reach over and twist one of his nipples, laughing harder at his yelp of overstimulation, "okay, okay, i'm done. let's go to bed."

you two curled around each other, falling into a peaceful sleep, thanking your lucky stars that everyone else was on a different floor.

#greta van fleet #gvf #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka #sammy kiszka fic #samuel francis kiszka #sam kiskza #sam kiszka art #18+#gvf 18+#gvf smut #smut #sam kiszka smut #sub sam kiszka

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gaypirateslife4me · 6 months

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I survived Buffy and Faith. (BtVS)

I survived Dean and Cas. (SPN)

I survived Olivia and Alex. (SVU)

I survived Sherlock and Watson. (Sherlock)

I survived Bucky and Steve, AND Sam and Steve, AND Bucky and Sam. (MCU)

I survived Clark and Lexa (t100).

I am currently surviving Will and Mike, Steve and Eddie, AND Nancy and Robin. (Stranger Things)

I have suffered through: queerbaiting; "everyone experiments in college"; queer coded? - they must be the villain!; "the inherent tragedy of gayness" (repression, AIDs, violence, hatred); girl-on-girl male fanservice; "pray the gay away"; and, most personally painful, "bisexuals aren't real, they just need to pick a side". (I mean, I am though?)

I have been fully and irrevocably traumatized by having to watch my beloved queers be buried over & over & over.

I have literally spent three-and-a-half decades in a toxic, abusive relationship with (not so) queer media.

Upon recommendation of multiple queer friends, I (skeptically, cynically, borderline angrily) watched their so-called "GAY PIRATE (affectionate)" comedy, and was gobsmacked.

Our Flag Means Death gave us: well-rounded characters that are 'no-room-for-guessing, even-your-deeply-repressed-insufferable-republican-uncle-can-see-it queer! Multiple queers with disabilities! Neurodivergent queers! A genderqueer pirate so slay I lose my breath every time they are on screen! Sex between mlm not reduced to 1) tittilation or 2) the raunchy punchline of a mean joke! An unapologetic celebration of Found Family! Drag treated with respect, and as a catalyst for openly queer joy! A fabulous gay wedding! And that's not to mention the loving, romantic, complicated, vulnerable, beautiful relationship between the two male protagonists!

I saw it. with my own two eyeballs. for the first time ever. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I assumed everyone must be as thrilled, honored, and overjoyed as I am for all the rep, positivity, and LOVE.

I was wrong.

It breaks my queer little heart that so many people on this glorious hellsite are furious, indignant, and quick to cancel the characters, the actors, the writers, and the showrunners for not being spoon-fed perfect queer characters in perfect queer relationships for perfect queer rep in ACTUAL queer media that exists! In canon!

It hurts to be vilified for being a fan who refuses to condemn the show and for loving concerningly imperfect and deeply-flawed queer characters.

I am sorry, but as far as I'm concerned, LOVE WON. We won. Please stop coming into my house (blog) and pissing all over my rainbow parade.

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maywinchester · 7 months

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You Think You Do

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: 911

Warnings: Based around the end of season 9, Sick reader, Dean's self pity, angst, fluff

Author's Note: Holy shit balls so I've never posted a fanfic before! I have written many in my brain for my own self-indulgence but I've never written any out much less posted anything other than sharing other's works. So with that I'll say sorry in advance if it sucks, all feedback is appreciated! I don't own any rights to Supernatural, so lets get started!! :D

It had been weeks since you felt like yourself, & it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Your headaches had become almost constant with short spells of relief in between & you felt like you had a weight inside your chest, making it hard to breathe & pulling your chest to the ground. Your other symptoms included fatigue (& the dark circles that came with it) irritability, general weakness & wheezing, especially when you slept. Things were only getting worse, which meant that the boys constant fussing over you was getting worse too.

Sam was logical; when you first started showing symptoms he suggested fluids & rest, he treated it like a cold, which is what you thought it was. Now that it was apparently more, he was hitting the medical books in the Men of Letters laboratory.

Dean, however, had treated it like the Spanish Flu from the beginning &, now that it had turned out to be more serious, he was almost insufferable.

One thing had really peaked Dean’s interest though: Why wasn’t anyone else catching this? Dean had been right under you from the moment he noticed a change & before that he was constantly around you as well. The question only heightened his anxiety & so did Sam’s silence when Dean brought it to his attention.

“I don’t know man. Something’s not sittin’ right with me. Y/N never gets sick, ever.”

His voice was extra gritty, lined with worry. It carried down the hall to you & Dean’s shared room where you laid, trying to fall asleep, & listened as your heart broke for him. You knew it was serious & it was probably too late for anything short of angelic. With Cas still MIA, things were starting to look bleak, but you still didn’t want to let in on just how bad you felt.

“I know” Sam sounded tired “We’ll find something Dean.”

You heard Dean coming down the hall, dragging his feet as he walked. The guilt crept in, you could tell they were exhausted. You held your breath until you saw him in the doorway & gave him a faint smile, trying your hardest not to seem as weak as you felt.

“D” your voice was barely a whisper, but he was close enough to hear as he sat beside you on the bed, brushing your hair back. You closed your eyes & hummed, taking in the feel of his rough but gentle hand as he rested it on your cheek & the smell of whiskey as his warm breath fanned over your face.

“We’re trying to find something sweetheart” He had that look, the one for when hope was dwindling down & he was preparing himself for the worst but trying to put on a face for you.

“I know.. I heard” You move over to make room for him & he lays down before you even have to ask, wrapping an arm around you & pulling you into his chest.

“Are you okay?” He scoffs at that & you look up at him. Why are you asking if he’s okay when you so clearly are not? You see the battle in his eyes as he contemplates his answer.

“I wish it was me.” You take a deep breath & a moment to appreciate that he told you the truth, & to realize what that means to Dean Winchester. What you mean to him, & your heart breaks a little more. You wanted to tell him just how bad you felt, to lean on him the way you knew you could, but he was already feeling defeated & the last thing you wanted to do was confirm his fears.

“I know.. but then I’d be wishing it were me.” You give him a knowing look, you know he’d rather take the illness & whatever consequences than sit there & watch you deal with it.

“Let's be honest though, I handle these things better than you” You shoot him a playful smile that he tries to return.

“You shouldn’t have to handle them at all Y/N. You don’t deserve this.”

“But you think you do.” It wasn't a question & he refused to meet your eyes, staring a hole in the door.

“I think we both deserve for Cas to show his ass & fix this.” Dean’s tone was harsh, probably more than he meant to be. His everyday frustrations were elevated by the Mark, but you’d learned to let it go, you knew he was doing his best.

“Maybe, but he has other people to look after now.” He looks at you then, wondering how you can be so understanding while being so miserable. You read him like a book.

“I know, I’m a saint.” you grin, the biggest you’ve had the energy for in days, & he returns it, genuinely this time. He holds your gaze for a moment before you look away, shy for no reason in particular, other than the green eyes staring back at you.

“You really are” you look back at him then, a questioning brow raised “You deal with my crap constantly, you take care of me & Sam. You’ve stuck by us even when everyone else left. You’ve been tortured for us, you’ve died for us.”

“Well, it was more for you, but yes” you laughed. “I love Sam, but some of those demons really do have a gift” He winced at the memory.

“I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get you better” He looked deep into your eyes, making sure you understood the seriousness of his promise.

“I know.. you always have.”

#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #deanimagines #spn imagine #spn #spnfandom #spn crack #castiel #team free will #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #jensen ackles #jared and jensen #misha collins #jared padalecki #sickfic

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abarbaricyalp · 3 months

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Written for @sambuckylibrary Valentines Bingo. Free space fill (most of mine are gonna be free spaces) I guess it technically fills the Sam-Searching-For-Bucky fill too but not in spirit, so it doesn't count

Rated T/M, No Archive Warnings

Read on AO3 here

Bid Your Heart Goodbye

"You know why they put us up first, right?" Barton asked under his breath next to Sam.

Sam's gaze slid to him with only mild interest. "Because we're the people's princesses?"

They were standing in the wings of a fancy stage with velvet curtains that smelled like they hadn't been cleaned since they were installed. Beyond the curtains, an audience dressed to the nines wined and dined. That same dinner was waiting for Sam if this charity auction would ever get underway.

No matter what Barton said about the order of the night, Sam wouldn't be made to feel less than grateful that he'd be sitting down and digging into an expensive steak in less than half an hour. Hopefully. Steve, the poor sod, was the last bid of the night.

Buy A Date With An Avenger had been a fundraiser since before Sam was involved with them at all. This was the first year he was participating in it. If he'd been asked the year before, he'd have been more than excited to join, take a break from the Ghost Hunt and relax in a fancy hotel for while. This year, he had other things he wanted to be doing with his time. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that the Ghost Hunt was over and the ghost was accounted for, but Sam still felt like of he took his eyes off of him, he'd disappear into the night again. Perhaps it didn't. Who was to say.

"They're hoping people will bid high on us because they haven't spent big money on Steve or Tony yet," Clint said with some kind of sardonic glee. "Of someone spends million dollars to meet Steve, they're not gonna fork over anything else for us."

Sam rolled his eyes and elbowed Clint's arm. "Speak for yourself. I bet I hit 50k before the fifth vote."

The sardonicism melted away and Clint's eyes lit up. "I bet I make more than you," he countered.

"What're you gonna do? Strip?" Sam joked. Then he added, "Has Steve really gotten a million dollars before?"

"Couple of years ago," Clint confirmed. "Right after the whole thing in DC with you. That year. Super fan. They wanted the inside scoop on all of that for a book they were making someone ghostwrite."

Sam snorted. That sounded about right. There had been smaller opportunities for people to donate and win time with the heroes throughout the night. Steve was certainly a favorite. It might've dinged Sam’s ego a bit if he couldn't see how miserable Steve was with all of the attention.

Sam didn't mind this kind of thing. The VA held fundraisers all the time. He was used to the pleasant smiles and benign interest and the insufferable drone of rich people with money they needed. Actually, Sam was pretty good at it. Hell, he almost liked it, in a detached, out-of-body sort of way. He liked to be useful and he liked to be charming and gracious.

"Young man, you could've been a prince in another lifetime," an old woman had said to him once, patting his hand because she hadn't let go of it for five minutes.

"Only if you'd be my princess," he'd charmed back and gotten an extra donation towards their meeting spaces renovation for his time.

Tonight wasn't much different, though pocket books seemed to be a little fatter and held a little tighter. There were no promises made for nothing. Everything was about the spectacle of the bidding, the silent auction of memorabilia, the game of being allowed to tease time and attention from someone as important as an Avenger.

The proceeds weren't for the Avengers. They were all going towards charities around the nation. Each hero had picked one. Sam's was a housing program in Louisiana, to help people displaced after storms, year after year.

"How much did your date go for last year?" Sam asked.

"About 20k," Clint said. "But I wasn't the worst of the night. A science lab got Bruce's date, but they didn't have to be very competitive about it."

Sam sucked in a breath through his teeth. "That's dirty, man."

"Hey, it worked out for them. He went to their lab, helped them through some results that weren't adding up, and they won some ridiculously prestigious award a month or so ago. Yet another paper with Dr. Bruce Banner's name on it too."

Sam had to give them that. That was a much better use of Bruce’s time than having dinner with someone who bought affection, someone who couldn’t be bothered to help people unless they got something in return.

This night could not be over quickly enough.

Sam was up first, as the newest member of the Avengers. He’d rewatched the livestream from last year to prepare himself, but there was still nothing like hearing his name echo throughout the room as the chatter of the evening lowered to a polite gust of whispers. The MC read off a list of Sam’s accomplishments as he walked on stage and gave a few easy-going smiles and waves. He listened as the MC explained what his charity was and how the money may be used.

And then the bidding began. It was a little slow going. It started at five thousand dollars, like all the dates would tonight. Someone upped it to seven, and then ten. A bright blue placard caught the corner of Sam’s eye. Everyone else had classy black and gold placards. This one was meant to stand out. It caught the MC’s eye too, apparently, because he gave a hearty chuckle and gestured to the man with the bright blue placard, sitting at a table with other event organizers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I neglected to mention that this year we are hosting the bidding online as well. We’ll entertain bids in real time from our website. What was the bid?” he asked the stand-in bidder.

“Fifty thousand, sir,” the man said. “From an anonymous bidder.”

A literal gasp went through the audience. Which, hey, a date with him was totally worth 50k, Sam thought. A little deliriously maybe. Fifty thousand dollars? From ten? Sam was absolutely not about to pass out on the stage. He just needed a lectern to hold onto for a few seconds.

The MC whistled appreciatively. “That is quite the statement. Does anyone want to say 55?”

The woman who’d been the first to bid raised her placard again.

“Great. 60?”

The blue placard went up again. “Sir, the same bidder has said 100,000.”

Someone was fucking with Sam. He turned to glare at Barton, because this was surely his doing. He’d just been telling Sam about how only Steve and Tony made any real money and him and Sam were just chum to get the sharks going. And somehow he had someone fuck up the online bidding site to do this.

But Barton looked just as confused as Sam was, and about fifteen times as gleeful.

The MC didn’t falter. He was a damn professional. Sam needed to send him a fruit basket or something. Sure, Steve and Tony’s dates went for more than half a million each last year. $100,000 was nothing compared to the rest of the night. But Sam wasn’t sure even he could’ve kept a straight face while talking about his company being worth more than a substantial downpayment on a house. But the MC just grinned at the audience and said, “Anyone willing to go for 110? $110,000 would change a lot of lives. Build a lot of houses, folks.”

Unbelievably, a whole new placard went up. Sam wondered if this was just someone trying to goad the online bidder into doing something even more outrageous.

Which they did. Before the MC could even decide on another number to challenge 110,000 damn dollars, the blue placard went up.

“175,” he said.

Sam blinked at him, feeling like a deer in the headlights while someone explained linear algebra to it. What the fuck was happening? Actually, was he in danger? Should he even meet someone willing to spend $175,000 just to have dinner with him? Was he going to end up tied up in a basement somewhere?

“Folks, I don’t know if anyone is going to be able to outlast our anonymous bidder. Do I hear 180? 180 on the room? How about 177? 176? 175-5? If not, Sam Wilson’s date has just been bought for $175,000. To our high bidder, you’ve helped a beautiful cause. Planning emails will be sent to the address on your bid form, so please keep an eye out for those. And now, please welcome Hawkeye himself, Clint Barton!”

Sam was only able to get himself off of the stage because he had Clint’s path to follow. Clint beamed at him, knocked the sides of their fists together as he whispered, “Bird bros,” and then waggled his eyebrows like that meant anything.

Backstage, Steve managed to find him before anyone who would need his help coordinating the date. He was cheesing about as hard as Clint was.

“I told you you’d be nothing but good for this,” he teased, giving Sam a half hug. “I wonder whose eye you caught so strongly.”

“Hopefully not a Christian Grey,” Sam muttered, which made Steve blush but laugh. Over the years, the number of pop culture references Sam was able to get away with had dwindled to mostly the obscure. Evidently Christian Grey was not obscure.

“Maybe it’s someone who wants to know more about the Falcon tech?” he suggested. “Or someone who just knows you’re a really great guy. I’d pay 200k to have lunch with you.”

Sam rolled his eyes and elbowed Steve’s ribs lightly. “Lucky for you, you get me for free.”

“Well, sometimes the price of a burger.”

“Only when we go to that fancy place you like.”

“Mr. Wilson?” an event organizer said, interrupting them and looking very apologetic for it. “We’d just like to go over your preferences very quickly before we begin drafting emails. It should only take a few minutes.”

“Of course,” Sam said with a nod. He gestured for her to lead the way and then shot a look at Steve, trying to convey a suave ‘guess this is my life’ kind of energy. Steve’s laughter was not helpful in determining if he hit the mark or not.

. . .

The date was at a rooftop restaurant, near the beach. It was New York, so the hustle and bustle of the city was ever present, but the crash of the waves and the calling of the birds was a nice addition. Sam hadn’t forgotten how much he liked the peace of the beach. No amount of time away from home would ever pull the saltwater out of his bones. But perhaps he underestimated it until he was in the sand and the water again. Assuming his date was not obsessive and willing to follow Sam around, he was definitely going to get down on the beach before heading back to Steve’s for the night.

The restaurant was the kind of place Sam would never go on his own. He couldn’t picture a single reason to be at some place like this. He hadn’t even gone to Stark events like this yet. True, the rooftop part was his idea. ‘Get a bird's eye view with the Falcon.’ It was a stupid gimmick that he’d thrown down on paper at the very beginning of the planning for the auction. But, evidently, his anonymous bidder had been into the idea as well. Sam had expected some slightly upscale bar where young people looked at him like he was decrepit, but the bidder had suggested this place, which was definitely beyond upscale and had very few hip-young-person patrons.

Then again, this person had spent almost $200,000 to even get this date. What was several hundred more for food?

The foundation was paying for Sam’s food, so he was two glasses of a very good red grenache wine into the night when the waiter stopped to let him know his date was checking his coat.

A man? Sam was surprised. Everyone in the room who had bid on Sam’s date had been women. Even the last instigator had been a woman. (She had continued to instigate throughout the night. Sam kind of thought she might’ve been a plant by the foundation to drive up bids.)

He kept his eyes on the entry way onto the roof. In theory, he could’ve peered through the glass windows of the kitchen, but there was far too much going on in there for him to be able to see anything important. Instead, he kept an eye on the archway covered in roses and ivy, where a maitre d’ waited to guide people to their reserved seats–or fuss at her waitstaff.

It did not take long for Sam’s date to arrive. He knew it was him as soon as he came through the roses.

He was wearing a beautiful black on black suit, a black silk tie gleaming in the decorative fire light. His hair was pulled back in a slick, tight ponytail, sitting just a little higher than the nape of his neck so he could still tuck it into his shirt collar. Everything about him was powerful, the long sprawl of his legs, the breadth of his chest and thighs, even the curl of his gloved fingers as he circled one set around his other wrist. His blue eyes were impossibly piercing as they found Sam before the maitre d’ could even gesture over. And then he was smiling, wide and enamored. It made him look so much younger.

Sam scrambled to stand up as he made his way over, having to pause to let the maitre d’ know he could handle it on his own. By the time he did get to their little corner table, Sam still hadn’t convinced himself this wasn’t a dream.

Where have you been? Sam wanted to ask. Why would you spend $175,000 to see me?

“You could have just called,” is what he said in the end.

Bucky Barnes had not stopped smiling. It was really killing the whole mafia boss vibe he otherwise had going for himself. He brought his hands up to Sam’s face and then kissed him in front of every damn one at the restaurant. Sam’s hands went to his wrists, thumbs slipping below his sleeves and under his gloves to rub the inside of his wrists, his pulse point.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting this time with you. Talking to you. Maybe even touching you, even if it was just your hand or kicking your foot under the table,” he admitted under his breath, a confession just for the two of them.

“You spent almost $200,000,” Sam breathed back. “That’s more than a little jealousy.”

“Sam, you’re worth every damn dollar I’ll ever be able to find.”

Sam wanted to tuck himself against Bucky’s chest, hiding his face between his collar and jaw and just breathe in the other man. This addiction had grown faster than he’d thought possible. It hadn’t been long, in the grand scheme of things, since he’d last seen Bucky, but this moment felt like water after a drought anyway.

“I know you woulda made sure you were untraceable, but it's still very hot that you risked getting caught to make the bid,” Sam eventually said, pulling away and then pulling out Bucky’s seat for him.

Bucky gave a silly half bow and sat, waited for Sam to do the same before he said, “Someone else was bidding for me. Don’t look at me like that. I have friends.”

Sam rolled his eyes good naturedly. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried,” he joked.

“Well, I think the metric is: if I’m this handsome, you should be flattered.” Bucky grinned at him and it took off about two decades worth of suffering.

Sam looked suitably appalled. “Who taught you about pretty privilege and double standards?” he asked.

Bucky laughed again and hooked his ankle against Sam’s under the table. Sam didn’t let himself react visibly, but he did run the toe of his most expensive shoes up the side of Bucky’s other leg.

“I heard the Bluefin here is exquisite,” he said instead of answering.

“We are not ordering Bluefin Tuna,” Sam nixed instantly.

“Okay, okay, what about the salmon?”

Salmon wouldn’t be so bad.

. . .

The date had not included a hotel room. Obviously. Even exploitation of superheroes hadn’t hit that feverpitch yet. However, Bucky had an expensive hotel room and Sam had nothing else to do with the evening. He’d texted Steve earlier that he wasn’t about to be part of a Misery remake, so there was no one on standby waiting for his return.

Even if there had been, he was pretty sure he would have forgotten about them by the time Bucky, a little shyly and endearingly, had suggested Sam come back with him for the night. He was perfectly gentlemanly as he greeted the doorman and bragged on his date a little bit and then led Sam to the elevator. He managed to keep his hands to himself for the upwards climb and the intentionally slow walk down the hallway.

“I hope your friend isn’t sharing a room with you,” Sam said as Bucky fiddled with his keycard, crowding Sam against the door like the sexiest predator cat the world had ever seen.

“Nah,” Bucky agreed, putting his forearm against the door next to Sam’s head as he curled his whole body inwards towards Sam. “She’s not even in the country.”

He unlocked and opened the door before Sam had even seen his hand move, then caught Sam up in his arms before Sam could fall back into the apartment. His feet barely touched the ground as Bucky carried him through the room. The door shut behind them with a soft click. The hotel room was basically bigger than the lower floor of Sam’s place in DC and definitely bigger than his room at the Avengers Compound, which is where he would’ve otherwise ended up tonight.

Surprisingly, the bed was near the window, blinds down but not all the way closed. The city lights twinkled outside and bathed the white sheets in a smear of intangible watercolor. Then, when Bucky dropped him on the bed, those lights painted over Sam too. He only got to stare at them, turning his hand this way and that, for a moment before Bucky was straddling his lap and staring down at him with an open hunger. Sam could do nothing but stretch out beneath him.

Bucky’s long fingers came up to the top of his dress shirt and slowly, carefully, undid the buttons. There was none of the frantic rush that always followed them when they came together. There really wasn’t even anyone who was expecting them in a certain place. Right now, the entire scope of their existence was this room right here.

Sam shivered pleasantly as his shirt fell open. Bucky settled back against his hips, running his hands down Sam’s chest–a contrast of warm and cool fingers.

“You’re so Goddamn beautiful,” he breathed. “It’s like something new every time.”

Sam rolled his eyes to distract himself from the blush racing down his cheeks and neck. “You could take a picture,” he suggested. “Would last longer.”

“Yeah, with my memory, that’s probably true.”

Sam snorted, he couldn’t help himself, and dropped his arm over his eyes. “How do you find the most supremely unsexy things to say while you’re undressing me?”

Bucky shifted over him and a few seconds later, Sam heard the shutter of his phone’s camera. “Goddamn piece of artwork,” he reiterated before throwing his phone aside and refocusing on Sam. He leaned over Sam’s body, resting his weight against Sam pointedly. He mouthed at Sam’s neck, traveling up to his earlobe, sucking it between his lips before he whispered, “I’m gonna take you apart all night long, doll.”

Sam shivered roughly and curled one hand against the back of Bucky’s neck, turning his head to catch Bucky’s mouth on his. “You’ve gotta put on a $200,000 show, Barnes,” he taunted.

Sam felt Bucky tense up for a rebuttal. Technically Sam ought to be putting on the show, he knew. But then he felt it all ease back out of Bucky as he decided to pursue better endeavors. With one last lave of his tongue over Sam’s, he sat back against his hips again, grinding against Sam in a subtle, smooth, teasing move, and began to unbutton his own shirt. Sam took the opportunity to shrug out his own clothes quickly.

He didn’t know who had taught Bucky to strip, but the man could do it like a professional. Sam was pretty sure he’d never been more turned on in his entire life. When Bucky reached for Sam’s zipper–his own pants already undone and hanging loose around his hips in a downright sinful tease, Sam couldn’t wait any longer. He flipped them over, pinning Bucky down to the bed so they could each shove their pants out of the way while Sam fell right back into kissing Bucky like it was the only way he could breathe.

“When you walked out onto the roof, I almost dragged you right back down,” Sam breathed, grinding his thigh between Bucky’s. “You looked so good, it was like a mirage. Like a magazine spread come to life.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, a cocky grin coming to his lips. “The suit do it for you, doll?”

“The suit. Your hair. The fact that it was you. I’d been dreading that date. And as soon as I saw you…”

Sam could practically feel Bucky’s self-satisfaction radiating. “As soon as you saw me, what?” he prompted, wiggling his hips until Sam ground down on him again.

“As soon as I saw you, nothing else really mattered,” Sam admitted with a slow, pleased smile of his own. He felt like he’d been holding his breath all night, waiting for Bucky to disappear out of this daydream. And finally something had slotted into place and he decided this was all real.

“Right now, nothing else matters,” Bucky promised with a kiss, then flipped them over again. “Now, about taking you apart,” he purred before putting his mouth back to Sam’s body.

. . .

“What if I just never let you leave?” Bucky suggested late the next morning. Room service was about to stop serving breakfast, which was a shame because they hadn’t made it all the way through the menu yet. Bucky traced a strawberry around Sam’s mouth, dragging his lip down with it before he replaced the strawberry with his own mouth and then started all over again.

Sam was more interested in the powdered sugar on Bucky’s fingers and lips, but he was being remarkably incapable of getting any of it onto his tongue. He’d have thought Bucky got all of the teasing out of his system the night before, but evidently not. “Eventually someone would come looking for me. I only gave Steve the all-clear for one night. And the world’s probably gonna try’n implode soon, so I’ll definitely be missed then.”

Bucky hummed, dragging the strawberry over Sam’s cheek and across his jaw. “$200,000 is a lot of money. I should get two dates, y’know?”

“You only spent $175,000. And I think I earned it last night, huh?”

“Now that’s a high end date,” Bucky teased. He tossed the strawberry back onto the fruit platter and crowded over Sam’s body again, hiding his face against Sam’s warm neck.

They were getting nowhere fast this morning. At least last night had had a plotline, no matter how often they distracted each other. There was a goal to be reached. Several times. But this morning? They were just lazing around, eating more food than room service should ever send to one room, and getting lost in pointless, teasing touches.

“In another world, this is our life,” Bucky pointed out against Sam’s shoulder. “In another world, I’m just wining and dining you all the time. We live in an expensive penthouse and we just have sex all day.”

“In this scenario, where are you getting all your cash for these nights?” Sam amused.

“I dunno. Trading stock. Investing in the 40s and not touching it,” Bucky said with a shrug that jostled Sam’s entire upper body.

“You didn’t know shit about the stock market in the 40s,” Sam argued. “You don’t know shit about it now.”

He felt Bucky grin against his skin and another monumental shrug shook the bed. “Who cares? It’s a fantasy. You’re the important part of it.”

“I live an expensive life, Barnes,” Sam defended simply.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky agreed, squeezing Sam’s hips until he had to stifle a laugh and shift until Bucky. “I know all about your all-organic fruits and veggies diet. I can handle it.”

“It’s a pretty thought,” Sam conceded when he’d freed his hips and gotten Bucky’s hands away from undiscovered tickle spots. “We could get close. If you came back. If you stayed.”

“I can’t,” Bucky sighed. He turned to lay on his side next to Sam, put a hand over his chest so he could circle Sam’s nipple with his thumb as he spoke. “Not yet. There’s too much to do. It’s better if no one knows where I am yet.”

“I could help. You don’t have to do any of this alone.”

Bucky pressed three kisses to Sam’s cheek and jaw. “You do help. You’ve helped so much, Sam. I used to run right towards precipices. Didn’t care how sturdy the ground was. Now I’ve got an anchor behind me. And a guy with wings who can catch me.”

“I ain’t catching you,” Sam argued quickly. “Do you know how much you weigh?”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. They laid there in that quiet for a moment, hearts beating together as their fingers tangled and came apart.

“I will be,” Sam eventually said. “I’ll be your anchor or your wings or whatever you need. You just need to remember that we’re connected. Every anchor has a line. You go down, I’m going down too. And, when you’re ready, you follow that line right back to me. Got it?”

Bucky shifted over him, held his face gently and adoringly. “Sold, doll,” he promised and kissed Sam again.

If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a kudos or comment on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfic #sbvday2024

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madlysage · 2 months

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my stardew valley bachelorette headcanons… again super niche and definitely just me being insufferable

leah

- grew up in the south and still has a little twang when she speaks

- loves fleetwood mac and all 70s rock

- tried to make her own wine and elliott made harvey give her a stern lecture on botulism

- a serial dater with a string of bad ex-boyfriends in her wake (she was just a lesbian all along but that wasn’t accepted where she was growing up)

- a baby gay who still gets flustered when flirting with girls

- befriended the hat mouse and is still trying to convince elliott that he’s real

- dyes her hair but insists she’s a natural redhead (her mom was one and she always wanted to emulate her)

i always picture kennedy walsh (icon that she is)

haley

- the closet is glass babe (lesbian/possibly pan)

- wanted to go to college for photography and studio art but was worried it would put financial strain on emily

- secret little crush on leah because she loves her art and her artistic eye

- her and emily were raised by a single dad who passed away unexpectedly- it’s part of the reason she has a hard time opening up to ppl

- left anonymous mean notes about clint on the town message board for WEEKS after she found out he was hitting on emily

- uses her dad’s camera: it’s very sentimental to her

perf- would def be into clean girl makeup

emily

- nobody is quite sure about emily’s sexuality… including emily!

- very into spirituality- crystals, spirits, astrology, luck etc.

- makes alex uncomfortable anytime he comes over: she doesn’t realize she’s starting contentious political debates with him

- makes all her own clothes and hasn’t bought anything new in 3 years

- writes sweet notes to shane on the bar napkins when she can see he’s rlly going through it

- wears crystals in her bras

- stole haley’s diamond earrings for a gem mediation (it did not go over well)

- makes elliott quills with her parrot’s dropped feathers

but picture the hair blue ya know: don’t cast elle fanning as a character in a fandom challenge level impossible bro

penny

- bicon

- my image of penny is Filipino… stardew needs more diversity gonna be so real

- went to college for education and got her teaching license but had to move back home because of the debt

- learned how to do maru’s hair after she complained about how long it took

- watches old movies with maru every weekend and they do a book swap once a month

- sam is the only one who will eat her cooking (but he’ll eat anything… especially if penny made it)

- lets maru come in and give guest teaching sessions in science and math to jas and vincent

-started drinking coffee just to have an excuse to drop some off to maru and harvey at work

likeeeee beabadoobee just makes the perf penny i can’t explain it’s the vibe

maru

- lesbian queen

- my autistic love

- graduated highschool early: got a full ride to school and double majored in nursing and engineering before going to nursing school (graduated early from that too ofc)

- lives off of coffee and gets a daily lecture on caffeine consumption from harvey

- is harvey’s wingman (neither of them have any rizz…)

- goes to the bar just to quiz emily on astrology

- sets up ferris beuller type traps when she wants to sneak out and not deal with demetrius

-used to sneak into sebastian’s room during thunderstorms and still does sometimes

laura harrier my love my light… just picture her with glasses

abigail

- straight but likes to makeout with girls when she’s drunk

- goes to college online (majoring in business for pierre but double minoring in classics and anthropology) - her parents wouldn’t let her go in person because she’s too “reckless”

- brought home a squirrel once and hid it in her room for weeks

-used to do competitive irish dance as a kid (seems like something caroline would make her do)

- has a huge crush on sam and will flirt with sebastian to make him jealous

- pierced her own ears six times at once and made caroline faint when she saw her

- has a tattoo on her thigh that’s she’s desperately hiding from her parents

-helped emily dye her hair for the first time

- hooked up with alex once but will never admit it

can’t explain it she just gives kiernan - with purple hair ofc

#stardew valley #sdv headcanons #sdv #stardew fanfic #i know i’m crazy #i think way too much about this #can you tell i’m a bit of an abigail hater…#maru and penny r in love change my mind U CAN’T

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nalyra-dreaming · 11 months

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I think there was an interview where Jacob said him and Sam argued about Louis and Sam always saying things are lies. Sam comes off as insufferable and probably makes Jacob's connection with Louis difficult. Jacob did say that by acting as Louis he had to believe something was true if he was going to give us a good Louis. All this is funny because Sam just like most book fans has such a poor grasp of what the show is doing, his very good characterization of Lestat notwithstanding.

Ah yes, the "oh so poor baby Jacob getting run over by meany Sam..." right.

You mean the EW interview, of course.

Let's see:

ANDERSON: I loved getting the scripts because Sam had read a lot of the books and I'd only read the first two when we were shooting it — I've read a lot more now — and we often got into great detail about these books. I loved hearing Sam talk about Anne Rice's world and these vampires that I was yet to meet and Lestat's rich history. Sam became my personal alphabettery, like the Anne Rice Alphabettery. REID: They're amazing books. That's one thing that we got to do that the film doesn't do is that we have all of the books and they're all completed and AMC is talking about extending this story more. And whether or not we go that far, we have the opportunity to look at these roles and how we're going to start them and start this story, we have an ending, so when you are mapping out this relationship, when they meet for the first time, we also know where they end up. That was a big help. ANDERSON: Whenever I talked about something that Louis had said or that was in the script, because this show is Louis' recollection of events, Sam would just be like, "Lie. Lie. That's a lie. Did that happen? Is it real? Didn't happen that way." Very unhelpful for my preparation. [Laughs] I got really icy about it a few times. "I don't want hear this. I have to believe something is true." It's nice be able to believe what you're saying. REID: I love how this series plays with the way memory works. There are lots of different perspectives that come in which allows us to have that overarching question throughout the series about whose perspective is it and what is true and what isn't, which is a reflection on a lot of relationships. Two people experience the same thing, but it is remembered very differently by those two people, particularly when you're talking about love and heartbreak and breakups and fights and getting back together again and all that kind of stuff. ANDERSON: You're getting one side of couple's therapy, currently.

Talk about having a grasp on what's said... Not.

(Btw, that whole interview is interesting, for those of you who do not know it and... can read. Sorry, but...)

#anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #iwtv #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #loustat #jacob anderson #sam reid #ew interview

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hyperfixated-gvf · 1 year

Text

Slut Era

Pairing: No pairing | No rating | Words: 1.1k

Warnings: Language, use of the word 'slut' but in a funny way, mention of Josh's rat-tail

Summary: Danny finds out that the fandom has picked up on his sluttiness; comedic shenanigans ensue.

Author's Note: Just a dialogue-heavy crack fic that I wrote purely for my own enjoyment.

~~~

“Everybody’s saying that I’m in my slut era. You hear that guys? They know I’m a slut now.”

In the midst of relative silence between the four boys, Danny’s statement came with a tilt of his lips and a sparkle of amusement – his new discovery would put an end to the calm, and he was fully aware of that fact.

Sam honked, winking at Danny from his spot on the floor, feet propped up on the couch and bare. “Now. There’s no shame in being a late bloomer, Daniel. We love you all the same.”

“And now look at me – sluttier than you,” Danny cooed.

“Who’s sluttier than who?” Josh asked, finally looking up from his phone after searching through his list of podcasts and not finding anything more interesting than the conversation he’d only just registered.

“Danny’s sluttier than Sam,” Jake explained casually from beside Josh. “They’re saying that he’s in his slut era.”

“Who’s they?”

Jake rolled his eyes, already fed up with his twin’s obliviousness two sentences into the conversation. “If you had been listening–”

Sam interrupted Jake’s exasperation with his own, though, saying, “Who the fuck do you think they are? It’s not like I’ve suddenly identified as non-binary without telling you guys. The fans, Josh. The fans know that Danny’s a slut.”

Josh nodded in understanding, gaze sliding over to Danny. “He has been lately, hasn’t he?”

Danny shrugged, rather nonplussed at the label. “I’m enjoying my single rockstar status and will not be apologizing for it; in fact, I’m proud to be in my slut era. It means I’m the most desirable of the band,” he grinned, knowing that the Kiszkas wouldn’t take that lying down.

He was met with three immediate boos and giggled at the reaction.

“If being single and a rockstar is what qualifies you for a slut era, then we share the desirability, Daniel,” Josh scoffed, crossing his arms.

“No, it’s what you do with your single rockstar-ness that qualifies you. Which, if my calculations are correct–”

“Observations.”

Jake scowled at Sam for interrupting him. “What?”

Sam raised his brows, a classic ‘duh’ in his expression, which pissed Jake off even more – Sam knew full well what he was doing, because Jake had always been extremely hot-headed when it came to people patronizing him, but especially Sam. “You never calculated anything. You’re observing,” Sam corrected. “So, according to your observations…” He waited expectantly for Jake to go on.

“Sam, fuck off,” Jake said with a flick of his middle finger. “You’re being insufferable again. Anyways, as I was saying, according to my calculations, Josh, you do not qualify for a slut era,” Jake sniggered, brushing off Sam’s Sam-ness as he always did. “I, however, am still in my slut era because I get regular sex and have been the most desirable since…ever, actually.”

Again, a chorus of boos rang around the bus.

“You are not in your slut era,” Sam scoffed. “You’ve literally been a monogamous man for the past four years or some shit – you get regular sex with the same woman, which doesn’t count. Maybe when you were in high school. That was your slut era.”

Danny burst out in giggles and gave Jake a smarmy grin. “Yeah, Jake peaked in high school.”

The others joined in on the laugh, making fun at Jake’s expense. But Jake just rolled his eyes and sat back, a pout on his face. “I did not peak in high–”

“Jake peaked in high school! Jake peaked in high school! Jake peaked in high school!”

Once the chant was established, Jake gave them all an unamused glare and made to get up, but Josh pulled him back down next to him. “Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport. Besides, what would Jita say if we told her you got pissy because we said you don’t fuck other women?”

“She’d said, ‘Oh, Jake, I know you’re still in your slut era and I’m thankful for that fact every day–’”

“No she would not!”

The others had continued snickering at Jake’s high-pitched falsetto and how they all knew he was joking. When they’d all caught their breath, Sam sighed. “When would my slut era be? Cal A. Bungah, maybe?”

“Absolutely not,” Jake denied immediately. “But it can’t be before you lost your–”

Sam stopped him with a finger. “I still don’t care that you whored around in high school while I remained an angel until I was 19. I never will, regardless of what those shit interviewers said that one time.”

“An angel,” Danny scoffed. “Don’t forget I was still your best friend who you told everything - even when I didn’t want to hear it - before you went all the way.”

Sam grinned at him. “I’m trying to make a case for myself here, buddy, help me out.”

“No. For calling me a late bloomer, you sure are throwing stones at glass houses.”

Sam stuck his tongue out and Danny swatted at it, starting a small push-and-pull spat between the two until Josh picked the conversation back up.

“I think you and I were in our slut era at the same time,” Josh told Sam, recentering the conversation. “You don’t remember the 70’s fuck-boy outfits you were rocking when you were– what, 20–ish?”

Danny sucked a breath in. “Yeah, the one-button-at-the-bottom open shirts with the long hair, colored glasses, and the dangly necklaces were pretty peak slut era for you, Sammy.”

“And I was in my slut era with my rat tail around the same time,” Josh mused.

“Slut buddies!” Sam cried happily, grinning and holding his hand up for Josh to slap. Josh gladly gave him a high-five and settled back in while Jake waved his arms in the air, locking eyes with Josh so that his twin knew he was speaking directly to him.

“Your rat-tail was not the reason you were in your slut era Josh,” Jake enunciated deliberately, making sure that Josh didn’t get on his delusions again that the hairstyle had been a lady-killer. “There were some women who liked the rat-tail, but it was not the reason for your slut era. Repeat after me: I was a slut with a rat-tail. Not because of the rat-tail.”

Josh did not, in fact, repeat after Jake; he only stuck his tongue out and said, “So, in peak slut era order, it would be Jake, me, Sam, Danny? But Sam and I were kinda interchangeable.”

The others nodded in agreement. “I think that’s fair,” Danny said.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Sam giggled under his breath and finished off the conversation with, “I think we should try to get a crowd chant going next show. Danny, lead us off?”

With an understanding between them nearly as strong as the twins, Danny pumped his arm up and down in the air.

“Jake peaked in high school! Jake peaked in high school! Jake peaked in high school!”

~~~

Tag list:

@fleetsonfire @theweightofstardust @theatrekidjosh @fictional-duchess @greta-van-yeet @prophetofthedune @toothgapjoshy @gretavanfleas @gretavanfleetposts @doodle417 @razorbladekiszka @sammysvanfeet @s-u-t @lallisonl @hayley1623 @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @toxbexannouncedx @sammyslappers @alexxavicry @thecoldwind @maedesculpaeusoubi @sarakay-gvf @spark-my-nature @gabyvanfleet @maddie-van-fleet @weightofdreamz

Taglist request form here

#greta van fleet fics #gvf fanfiction #gvf comedy #josh kiszka comedy #jake kiszka comedy #Danny wagner comedy #sam kiszka comedy #greta van fleet crack fics #josh kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfiction #danny wagner fanfiction

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laf-outloud · 7 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/laf-outloud/731654919176732672/anyway-regardless-you-are-correct-that-however

I think these all really good points about why TB is not really culturally relevant and probably won’t hold up in years from now. I’d also like to add that them parodying very current events is also off-putting to me as a viewer because I don’t watch tv to wallow in the mess that is today’s world, rather I watch shows or movies to have some time not to think about it.

I also think shows that have the best fan retention are have a big focus on relationships and characters you care about. I think both Rory and Lorelei on GG are insufferable, especially Rory, but they are "quirky" people love their mother-daughter bond and get invested in their love interests. Friends is abiut friends who can be snarky but care about each other (until later seasons when half of them just because dicks), Supernatural was never huge, but it keeps getting new fans even now and has incredible staying power because it mostly doesn’t get that political, and of course because it focuses on these brothers who love each other so damn much that they’ll do anything for each other. These are the things that make people get attached to a show, stay with a show, and rewatch a show. They want to turn in to watch people they can relate to, want to be like, or have something they value in life.

In TB almost every character is a psycho with little to no redeeming qualities. Yes, there are some nice relationships, but most of the characters are (after Season 3) massive hypocrites, assholes, racists, murderers, just plain dicks, or pathetic. Yes, there are amusing moments and shocking moments, but once you've seen them, you’ve seen them. I have no desire to sit down and watch the show on repeat because the characters aren’t truly likable, and their relationships can thus only interest me so much. When you rely heavily on shock value, you automatically lose some people after because once they’ve seen it, they don’t need to see it again.

Kripke needs to get his head out of his ass and remember what worked about shows like supernatural and stop relying on simply being as violent and disgusting as possible if he wants people to rewatch his shows.

I suppose if the story is good enough, watching a show filled with unlikeable characters is okay, but you're right, it's the relationships that really draw people in and make them care about what happens next.

As for Kripke, he got incredibly lucky with Jared and Jensen and the work they did to create Sam and Dean's dynamic because I don't think he originally planned on the brother's relationship being at the core of the series. That came later as he and the other writers/producers saw what a goldmine they hit with J2.

#ask box #the boys critical #anti eric kripke

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teeth-cable · 11 months

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Helluva boss fandom is turn into a cult that is very true. Fandom can be turn into a cult so whenever someone bring up some of the problematic thing that has done by certain individual the fans get defensive instead of holding accountable they infantilized the individual

When somebody bring up about how vivziepop is antisemitic, racist, the fans will always bring she doesn't know. Really giving a bad look it show how they don't care about valid concern and criticism surrounding helluva boss & it's creator

When a fandom grows in popularity and size, there is alway a belief it's now a cult. I don't believe Helluva Boss has hit peak cult status but it's bordering. Out of all the fandoms I've been in, Helluva Boss takes the cake for toxicity because instead of dumb kids being toxic to each other, it's grown ass adults who think it is totally fine to harass each other and children because they had criticism about the show or are against Stotliz.

This is a true story, a popular artist in the fandom @NOT_THE_BEEEES QT a tweet expressing their disappointment at the show for making Stolas, the damsel in the distress for shipping purposes (Stolas being tied up by Striker, this was before the EP aired) and then they RT their tweet with their own version of an evil Stolas and the fandom flipped. Adult fans were angry, spamming harassment towards them, insulting them, and being happy that a 17 year old was getting dogpiled because they criticized the show. Also during this, fans started to believe they straight-washed Stolas because their AU design for evil Stolas wasn't stereotypically gay. Bee had been critiquing the show and Stotliz for a while before then so the majority of the fandom hated them and were waiting for them to slip up, but they never thought to block them.

Same grown ass adults are also very blinded to Vivzie's past and the current valid criticisms around her but you know, damn well if someone else who wasn't Viv had the same controversial past as her and they slipped up, the fans would criticize them.

But to be fair the critical side of the fandom isn't free from this either. Some "critics'" advice is to ignore the show's good traits and the impact it has on indie animation to just stomp and complain how terrible Viv and the show is. People who clearly hate the show get easily work up and can't even write a cohesive critique without exploding from rage and critics forget Viv isn't the only one working on Helluva. Yes, Viv has more power as the directer of the show but they are still other people responsible for the bad writing, Adam and Brandon. Also we should focus more on how Viv's friends are toxic too. We tend to forget Viv's close friends, Sam, Sam Haft, Morgana Ignis etc are all as toxic and insufferable as she is.

#꧁rambles꧂#helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #➥asks #vivizepop criticism #vivziepop critical

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reallydumbdannyphantomaus · 1 year

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If you could choose only 3 to be your room mate who would it be?

Dash

Kwan

Danny

Sam

Tucker

uhhhhhhh...... do i have to pick 3?

hmmmmmmmmm i'm going to rank mostly based on canon so let's get into it:

sam. look, she's rich and by far the most conscientious of the options. most likely to clean up after herself. most likely to hire a cleaning service which, you know, benefits me too. we could probably chat about poetry

kwan. he is so eager to please!!!! with a non-toxic friend group, he could be such a good roomie. probably easy to take advantage of though :( so you'd have to be careful

tucker. so tucker definitely gives off gamer who never cleans up after himself vibes, but he's not bringing in any drama, you know?

danny. in canon, does not do his chores, but can probably be guilted into it. will keep weird hours and for no discernible reason? might bleed on my stuff. not a fan. but most of his drama will be out of his control and he probably won't drag me into it

dash. look, i love giving dash redemption in fics, but based on canon he would be THE most insufferable roommate. he gives very frat house vibes without any of the redeeming qualities. i will hear way too much about ever girl he fucks in an attempt to deny being the queerest man i've ever met. there will be beer cans everywhere. he will create drama. he and his grilfriend will have super public arguments in the hallway. i will not rest. 0/10

#danny phantom #bug posts #replies

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p-redux · 10 months

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Good morning!

Just came upon this little chuckle….

From Twitter: Terry posted an image of a bar she’s having built. Check out some inquiries and her response. (Regarding SH libations)

Omg 🤦‍♀️

For those of you who don't know, I can't stand Terry. She's an insufferable know-it-all, and she talks out both sides of her ass all the time. I know some people like her and have been loyal to her since the beginning of Outlander. But I'm not one of those people. She seems to be always bitching and complaining about something. And then when one of her sycophants validates her complaint and empathizes with her, Terry then totally pivots "I'm okay, that's not what I meant." And then proceeds to correct the person supporting her. I haven't looked at her accounts in ages, but when I did, I wanted to scream. She's seriously infuriating.

So, these ungracious comments about Sam's Sassenach products are no surprise. Here's what a gracious person answers to the fan pointing out "I see no Sassenach." Terry: "Good for Sam, but I don't drink anymore, and Ron only drinks Plymouth." There, I fixed it for you, Terry. 🙄

#samheughan #sassenachgin #sassenachwhisky #sassenachspirits #terry dresbach #insufferable

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lordes-scribing · 1 year

Text

Yᴏᴜ Fᴀᴋᴇ Yᴏᴜʀ Sʜʏɴᴇss

18+ ° Bo Sinclair x AFAB!reader x Sam Wescott ° 2k words

Smut. Cuckolding. Voyeurism/Exhibtionism. Deep Throating. Vaginal Fingering. Male Masturbation. Creampie. Bo's Southern Accent. Sam Being Painfully Shy.

Written for @bisexual-horror-fan and her Multi-May event, it's late but it's more about the effort anyways, right?

"You met a guy?" he asked, voice pitching with incredulity while you helped stake the tent to the ground, "In an abandoned town?" you just nodded with a smile, "How-how did you manage that?"

Rising slowly, that feeling took over the moment again. One that came and went often during the cross country camping trips you'd agreed to take with the man. Like you were so close to finally talking about whatever tension had been growing between the two of you since you first met all those summers ago. That maybe, just maybe, Sam Wescott was going to use a little bit of that spine that so far had seemed to only be decorative. But once again, that hope was dashed, watching him duck his head and wipe his hands across the thighs of his cargo shorts.

"Because, ya know, seems like kind of a red flag."

"And why's that?" crossing your arms across your chest, "For all you know the state pays him to upkeep it?"

"Do they?" looking very pointedly at you to which you could only shake your head, "See-"

"It's a family home," you blurt out, once again sick of how quickly the moment had gone from hopeful to trying to do anything in his power to make you feel small, "He takes care of his brothers," as if he couldn't stop himself from overcorrecting too far.

The silence was filled with the wind rustling through the trees and bugs buzzing but no voices. He just looked down at his boots. It followed when he stepped away from the tent to the back of the station wagon and kept unpacking. And it easily continued into the early evening hours. Finally broken by him with one question;

"What do you want for dinner?"

Which only received a shrug and, "Well, we bought all that shrimp."

At least the foil packets full of shrimp, potatoes, and sliced corn cob kept your mouth and attention busy. It was clear he'd expected you to forgive him already. Or at least give up. But every over correction of the almost moment hurt more and more. And today especially. Maybe it was because you'd been treated so kindly. The sudden acquaintanceship of Bo Sinclair had been filled with that gentlmanly, Southern charm you'd only seen in old movies. Calling you *darlin'* and offering you his arm to show you around the town you'd been so fascinated with. How you'd just met and he opened up about the loss of his parents and how it left him caring for two brothers who just didn't quite know how to fit in the outside world. He'd helped you into his truck and driven you down the road till you weren't too far from camp and almost insisted on walking you back through the trees. Something you only politely turned down because you knew Sam would become insufferable about it. It turned out he could manage to do that with just the memory of the man. It was a reminder it seemed like. The universe showing you all the things you may be missing out on pining for a man who'd have a tough time keeping his foot out of his mouth even if it were tied it to the ground. A thought you were musing on when he climbed out of the camping chair and gathered the trash, making sure anything with a scent was locked in the car.

"Don't come to bed too late, alright?" another shrug was the response as you tossed another log on the fire, "I'm sorry alright. I just… I worry."

"Yeah, I know," making sure there was no question about the double meaning of the response.

With a clear of his throat and nod, he disappeared behind you. The sound of the tent unzipping and rezipping audible over the crackling of the fire you were focused on. And then silence. For a time. Long enough that you considered letting the small flames dull into embers and make your way towards the tent. At least Sam would be sleeping, something to alleviate the awkwardness until the next morning where you both pretended like nothing happened. That thought alone is enough to make you heave a heavy sigh and toss another log on, making the flames roar to life suddenly and expose that you weren't quite as alone as you thought you were.

"Well, hey there darlin'."

Sam should go to sleep. Or out there. *Something*. But all he can do is sit there and listen to the hushed talking that had started suddenly. He could catch a word or two. The way the sudden companion seemed to drawl the word darling outs far too many things into focus. But if the quiet talking had bothered him, the sudden silence that came with no footsteps or rustling brush set his nerves on edge. He squishes his eyes closed tight, forcing him to take deep breaths and trying anything to get to sleep. Only to have them slam open when there was a light but distinct gurgling sound. It's a sound he knows, years of trying to keep camp councilors away from their most basic urges had taught him exactly what it was. But a part of him can't believe it. Doesn't- Won't. Because that's not the you he knows. Or maybe it's self-flagellation. Whatever it is makes him climb out of his sleeping bag and tug gently at the tent's zipper. Inch by slow inch until he could poke his head and torso out for a better view.

When his eyes focus to the low light everything inside him says to crawl back into bed. But he can't- won't pull himself away. He's imagined you on your knees before, even if he's too chicken shit to admit it even to himself. In those thoughts it had been at his feet, soft and gentle, fingers dancing across your face while he took in every perfect moment. This wasn't that. This was carnal and dirty. Your tank top pushed up almost to your neck, bra cups yanked down, a greasy hand held your nose to his pelvis by the back of your head. He hates that it makes his pajama pants twitch. Hates even more how you moan when his hips ruck up tighter against your mouth.

"There ya go, darlin', just like that," the man grunts, thrusting up until just the right moment. One he can't see due to distance, darkness, and flickering fire, "Look so pretty all teary eyed for me," but words fail you, the response his gets is harsh inhales and exhales of air while you nod the best you can in his grip, "That's right, such a good little thing for me."

It goes on like that for- truthfully, he has no idea. Long enough to climb slowly and carefully from the tent. Watching him repeat the pattern. Harsh use of your mouth melded with sweet, filthy words and your spit filled gagging. It's wrong, this is private, he should go back inside and wrap the pillow around his head. But some part of him won't let him, he's sure it's that same part that's making him harden beneath his flannel pants. That makes him wanted to reach in and- he balls his hands into fists, nails cutting small crescents into his fleshy palms. As long as he stays quiet, hidden in the shadow of the tent while the two of you were distracted…

He should've known it was too much to ask for.

"Keep it up and we won't get to the fun part," he groans, tossing back his head with a long, guttural moan.

And then his head turned to the side. There was no denying he'd seen him. Especially when the corner of his lips curled into a smirk that seemed more at home on a wolf than a man. It was most definitely time to go back inside the tent. But no matter how much he willed it, his feet simply wouldn't move. Even when he pulled you into his lap, working a large hand down the front of your shorts and yanking a sudden, sharp moan from your throat. A sound he'd always longed to hear and never had the courage to even risk the first step towards it.

"Jesus Christ you are wet," not sure for who's benefit the words are for but they make your head fall against his neck all the same, "Think we can get you wetter?" but he knew those were for him from that one word.

We.

Only it wasn't we, it was him. He was the one working his fingers in and out of you, making you moan and whimper. Begging for more without even a word. The cutting pain in one palm disappears and he almost wishes for it back instead of the way his hand slipped beyond the elastic of both waistbands and over ginger curls. That smirk just yards away has become a full blown grin. Something devilish that makes his hand move faster and draws a muffled shriek from your no doubt bitten lips.

"That's it," he pushes at you harder and Sam can't help wrapping a hand around himself, hard and desperate, "Ain't nothing wrong with it."

The way he pushes you, manipulates your body, he can't imagine having the confidence. To take and give without hesitance but it leaves you a puddle in his lap. Mewling and undulating, quietly whispering for more as he drags over the peak in a way that leaves you far closer to an animal than Sam had ever dared imagine. Clawing at his jean zipper with pants and growls while he chuckles, pushing the denim around your waist lower and lower till it wrapped around your ankles. He'd imagined you demure, a little hesitant, maybe that had been easier for his mind to handle. But here you're not and he finds himself following the way you slide down on the stranger's cock with a long, stroke of his own. His hand a far cry from your soft insides. So tight and warm that the eye contact breaks when he tosses his head back, hands on your hips as you begin to grind against him.

All self-control seemed to snap.

"Just like that darlin'," when your hips moved from a steady grind to a snap, then a gallop, making his hand grip tighter, move faster, "Go on then, take what you want."

It feels like an order, one he can't manage to follow through on. He'd love nothing more than to come up behind you, slip his arms around you- But he can't. All he can do is push himself closer and closer to that edge you're desperately trying to get to. Fingers gripping his hair, the steady slap of skin against skin against the crackling fire, all but shrieking. Telling him all sense had left your body and his had gone right along with it. Your back arches, head thrown back, rising up higher and higher. And you're going to take them both with you.

"There ya go, sweet thing," bucking up into you with the same reckless abandon his fist moves with, "Fuck! Gonna fill ya to the brim," it forces you so clearly over the edge, taking Sam with you.

He paints the inside of his boxer-briefs while your body shakes and shudders, falls forward to be used for his own release while you lose yourself in yours. The guttural moan his gives matches your own happy mewl, joined with stuttering hips that can only mean one thing. A more fulfilling release than he'd managed on his own. For the first time it came with a quiet whisper in your ear, forcing your head to turn and force your glassy eyes to his.

"Maybe next time, Sammy boy?" he calls, finally forcing his lead feet from the ground and back into the tent.

#multi-may #bisexual-horror-fan #bo sinclair x reader #sam wescott x reader #bo sinclair x reader x sam wescott #poly fic

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