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weirdworldofwinnie · 5 months

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Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Six: Lover's Games

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You feel a need to follow up with Ernest Lawrence, much to Robert's dismay, and also uncover buried information that makes you turn rather rebellious.

Word Count: ~7,592

Warnings: Martial angst, infidelity, age gap, unwanted advances, slight physical violence, period stereotypical gender roles, clothed sex, some orgasm denial and sexual humiliation

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy. It is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, Jack Quaid as Richard Feynman, etc. from the film only while other characters are my own entirely made up ones!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86, @lacontroller1991, @kishie8, @anime-lover-forever-1127

If you'd like to be added to the list, let me know please.

June 1943

You waited a couple of weeks after the party to move past the point of just taking actual action only in consideration in the sense of springing a scheme by meeting up with Lawrence, keeping Robert under the radar all the while and he himself was certainly distant, (distracted by work of course) but also deliberately choosing to give you space. It was fine, but it made you uneasy of how much he was extracting his emotions and you were starting to feel as if you were on a carpet of thin eggshells every moment you and him were alone together, which was usually only at night sleeping in the same bed.

Weekday dinners were a polite affair as well and you mostly ate for yourself, him eating a portion of his plate before he went to shut himself in his designated office room and came to bed hours into the wee morning. He was gone longer now during the day and one early evening, you found yourself cleaning the house alone with no company or pressing responsibilities to attend to, and you went into his office, rearranging his paperwork and dusting the bookshelves when you decided to take a peek into his desk, knowing he kept many personal writings there. Perhaps a poem or musing that could give an indication of what was happening inside his brain and why you were hitting a cold patch in the marriage.

After sifting through many documents, discarded calculations, and correspondence letters, you finally found his dearest belongings buried in the bottom drawer. You knew several of these, for they were cards - birthday, anniversary, well-wishers from the wedding - and some of your own (love poems, really) that you had exchanged with him and even simple notes of wanting to meet for dinner, a party, vacation at his Perro Caliente ranch, anything that merited invitation. You grew teary at a few, oddly nostalgic even though it was only a couple of years ago. But this project had somehow changed everything out of alignment.

A thin stack of folded papers wedged in-between a Valentine's Day card from you last year and inside an envelope that had a wax heart the color of dried blood stamped on it caught your attention and you carefully peeled the corners back to extract the papers, which looked to be three separate pieces creased into halves. You took the one on top and unfolded it to reveal a letter. It had no formal or informal greeting and you blinked, reading the words in your husband's scrawling cursive handwriting. The first few lines seemed more like a diary entry than anything else until you read further...

Well, I am wearier lately than anyone could possibly guess because I have grown adept at adopting a mask of confidence and optimism. But it is a foolish man's desire to remain unchanged and hopeful in his situations that require more than words to express... I know you understand the moody tides well, my love, and I often wonder if you are feeling the bluing void edging on again as you often do, verging on the whole of complete consumption. Though it would be more appropriate to call it black as death itself; blue has been wrongly shamed in this case, although you could drown in my eyes.

Safe to say, I very much miss your presence and touch, the way you find comfort in me as if we are beyond mortal man and woman. Naturally, there are other parts of me that yearn for you as well, but I'm sure you could pinpoint exactly what. It wouldn't be proper to state it here, although I will never be sending this to you Jean. I sincerely hope you never read this because if you do, that means the war is ongoing and I have not evolved past this spout of melancholy. It is hard to determine the future when oneself is so pegged on the past and present... I feel as though I am stuck between the slides. How do I let myself be with you and yet here all at once? You feel light years away from me, though it is only a mere thousand miles, isn't it? I feel closer to the dying stars than compared to my active obligations here on Earth.

"Don't be an idiot, Robert, and alienate the few people who most understand you because one day you might need them." I can hear you say it now and I'm afraid I did exactly that to you but for reasons more monumental than myself. I thank you for being understanding over the phone, but I must remain in this slide while you are busy in your own microcosm of the world and it is easier to miss you, but I should place a bet against myself to see exactly how long this separation lasts. If you'll have me, I look forward to loving you in two or three year's time. I hope by then I do not fall out of the concept of love entirely and with an expiration date instead because that would be a tremendous dissatisfaction if you found another bull who could never match my (nor your) intellect. He would never deserve such a naughty angel as yourself and I myself won't let you linger past my mind too much longer, I promise.

Forever yours (or not, though I hope the prior),

Robert

He had added a postscript, written in original Sanskrit from The Bhagavad Gita and you squinted, seeing familiarity. You jumped up and went to the bookshelves, seeking out his copy and thumbing through the pages, finding the scripture that matched his handwriting and you recognized the passage as he had shown and translated it to you once.

And now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

Why the fuck would he add that in as a PS in a pining love letter to his ex-girlfriend?

You put the book back and went to sit down on the floor beside his desk with the letter and other ones, which you dreaded opening in case they were more in the tone of lovesickness about Jean. You felt stunned and yet at the same time, unsurprised as if this was to be expected and maybe it was. It further proved that Robert hadn't completely emotionally filed Jean away as you'd thought and was planning on loving her again someday... Or he had just been really, really drunk when he composed this, but you highly doubted it.

Hands shaking, you set that letter aside gingerly as if it contained a deadly chemical and picked up a second folded piece of paper. When you opened it, you audibly gasped.

My Kitty,

I do hope you are well and pursuing a better life for yourself in the useful field of biology. Forgive me, I must be ridden with a fever, but wouldn't it be fortuitous if we perchance crossed paths in San Francisco one summer day? My flamboyant impossible imagination has flooded me again, so I'll indulge here: I'd see you out shopping and hopefully you would be with only female company (I take it your husband would be working, unless you have divorced) and we could strike up a conversation that led us to my Cadillac parked in the shadows of the shade, and I'd let you take refuge from the heat as my passenger and then I'd take your beautiful hand...

He had deeply scratched out the rest, but you could definitely make out a few lines of erotic poetry. In reaction, you bit your bottom lip so hard you nearly drew blood, and then reached for the last one, which was not a letter in the traditional sense, but more of a hastily scribbled note on an index card.

I need to see you soon. From one 'R' to another, you always have me at my truest regards.

You angrily swore aloud and started crumple this note, but paused. If you confronted him about it, this could blow up for both of you and you couldn't have that right now in the midst of life here for the project. No one was or could get divorced, that was not an option. No, you had to keep this secret and try to get back at him more stealthily. Robert clearly loved other women too much, that was it, and this was tangible of that. Enough was enough and it spurred on you to see the fellow you'd been avoiding since the party.

The next day, you went to Technical Area 1 and walked towards one of lab buildings, immediately noticed by the soldiers on guard and they came over, shaking their heads at you and your security clearance button, lower than permitted in such a site. You'd had to sweet talk your way just past the fencing to get to this point, but these particular hardened men didn't look swayable.

"I need to speak with my husband, it's urgent. Please," you begged dramatically, wringing your hands, and the men glanced at one another.

"He's preoccupied with his colleagues now, but we'll be sure to let him know about whatever it is, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

You pursed your lips, realizing they weren't going to let you just waltz into the building without an extremely good excuse, which you couldn't say.

"Fine. Good day, sirs." You walked far away from them and they went back to their business as you glanced around inconspicuously for an alternative entrance, going to another side. You found an unoccupied back door and hurried towards it, heart picking up pace.

"What are you doing?" a male voice called shrewdly from nearby behind.

"Shit," you muttered, whipping around to see a very suspicious Officer Nichols standing several feet away. Thankfully though, he was solitary.

"I'll have to report this, you know," he warned as you backed towards the shut door, forcing a big smile.

"Or what? You'll shoot me for finding my own husband?"

"Depends on the context. Dr. Oppenheimer is a very busy man and I'm sure he has much better to do with his limited time than to entertain his diligent token housewife."

You flushed angrily, feeling for the doorknob and of course it was locked.

"I swear to God I'm not doing anything else but speaking to him. I hardly know squat about quantum mechanics and the nature of his work," you lied, trying to appear absolutely innocent.

"Then what is so important you need to interrupt proceedings?" Officer Nichols asked sharply, coming closer.

"It's a highly urgent personal matter."

"I see." He paused, darting his eyes up and down the length of your body for a second before he spoke curiously.

"You haven't physically left The Hill since your arrival, is that correct?"

"Yes...?" you replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

Nichols stared at you for a moment through his glasses glinting in the midday sun and you looked back, locked in a strange thirty second unnerving silence of equilibrium. Finally he moved, stepping forward and nodding.

"I'll personally make sure that you never do."

"But no, I... I was planning on going shopping for supplies with some of the ladies this weekend in Santa Fe?"

He was silent and you were surprised when he took out a ringlet of keys, going to unlock the door.

"We all must make sacrifices, Mrs. Oppenheimer, and I'm sure your husband would agree. This is your reward for the loss of such a privilege, so go now before I change my mind and report you to General Groves."

You quickly darted inside without a backward glance, heart thudding in aftermath of the interaction. Did he really mean that? Would he get in trouble if someone found out? Or more importantly, would you get in a tight spot for sneaking around?

You strode through the maze of hallways past lab rooms, offices, and the like until you heard dull voices up ahead and saw Robert's back, face to the chalkboard, through a half-cracked door. The scientists turned to stare when they heard your heels come to a halt in the doorway, looking away from their paperwork and the blackboard. The awkward silence was deafening; a pin could drop at any moment and a man coughed, just to relieve the stagnant air. The lone female physicist of the group, Dr. Lilli Hornig, gave you a curious look with a quick polite smile as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. Robert froze with a cigarette in one hand and a piece of whittled chalk in the other, his blues boring into your face out of sheer shock.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I merely need to borrow that man right there for a moment of time. It's a personal matter," you announced crisply, pointing straight at Ernest Lawrence, whose expression morphed from surprise and to utter bemusement.

"Excuse me, then," he muttered and stood up, shuffling papers self consciously before making his way to you, moving down the hallway. You randomly led him to an empty storage room and opened the door, lightly pushing him inside.

"What are you doing?" he asked empathically as you faced him in the middle of the room, steadying yourself as you looked up at him, unaccustomed to being so close to a man considerably taller and bulkier than Robert's physicalie.

"Remember a couple weeks ago in May at last month's party?" you asked briskly and his brow furrowed in realization.

"Admittedly, not as much as I should. Oppie jokingly mentioned the next day afterwards about needing to restrict the amount liquor we're consuming at the house when you're hosting because we're not frat boys," he replied with an honest shrug.

"Do you recall that kiss you gave me out of the blue?"

His face flexed, eyebrows shooting up as his mouth twitched in guilty humor and you narrowed your eyes.

"Yes, perhaps a bit of it. In my defense though, I wasn't quite all there and there was talk going around, silly talk. I was dared into doing it, actually."

Now your own eyebrows mimicked his at this confession and you stepped closer, toe-to-toe with his shoes.

"Who dared you?"

"Promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Sure."

"Richard was the instigator and then the rest of the guys coaxed him on. Absolute ridiculousness we never would have done otherwise, I swear to you it's the high altitude of this place having an effect on our immature raucous behavior combined with alcohol."

"Feynman? The rascal, I could've guessed," you rolled your eyes disapprovingly and he sighed, shifting slightly on his feet.

"I really do apologize for the regrettable behavior, I sincerely promise it won't happen again," he told you seriously and you cocked your head slightly, giving him a once-over.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Lawrence immediately grew reserved and reluctant, making a grimace.

"Oh, I... I, oh no, I don't think it would be permissible to answer that."

"Go ahead. I dare you."

He swallowed nervously and came close with intimidation, making you stagger back all the way to the wall behind you, where he placed a hand up on it by your head, leaning in intimately and his warm breath tickled your cheeks.

"Yes, I suppose. But I'm happily married and certainly not looking for trouble or to wreck your own marriage. You must think I'm a very lousy friend," he admitted quietly.

"I think you underestimate me, Doctor," you whispered, nearly a purr, as you moved close and brushed his cheek with your fingers. He tried to speak, but you shushed him and gently removed his glasses, letting them dangle in your grip as you tilted into him, pressing your other hand firmly to his broad chest, squeezing the fabric of his vest.

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the hall outside, so you made it fast, giving Ernest a fast peck on the lips, just in time as then the door briskly yanked open and Robert poked his head in dubiously. You leaned back, still holding the glasses and Lawrence fumbled for them, accidentally interlocking fingers as your husband stared in confused disbelief.

"Y/N? What is the meaning of all this? We have work to do, why are you taking up his time?"

"Oppie, it's fine, we were just..." Ernest paused, readjusting rims of the glasses back on his face and he turned to you, a bit breathless.

"What were we talking about exactly?"

"All your great achievements, including the Nobel Prize, in contributing to the advancement of science, most notably your famous cyclotron and I was inquiring about the exact mechanics of how such a thing works. Something along the lines of high energy particles and acceleration...?"

"Right, because you were going to write to your father, who is curious about it," he caught on, proliferating this cock-and-bull conversation.

"And why do you need to interrupt our work about that? Aren't you supposed to elsewhere?" Robert asked, not hiding annoyance in plain sight. You could feel Ernest staring, gaze locked on you and your stomach butterflied, but you gave a brave face.

"You mean my womanly duties at home?" you snapped back.

"Yes, or however you may call it. Now, we need our physicist back if you'll pardon me." He beckoned Lawrence urgently and the man reluctantly pulled himself away from you, clearly ashamed and flustered. Once he was out of the room, Robert stepped inside and shut the door closed with snap. His face was taunt and irritated, fingers habitually fiddling for the ghost of a cigarette.

"What are you playing at here?" he demanded, already hurt without any explanation.

"Just a follow up to our last meeting," you said causally enough to anger him. He crossed to meet you in two strides, catching your wrist and lifting up your arm, interlacing his fingers very tightly with yours as he spoke lowly, intensively.

"What is the matter, am I not giving you enough? Do I not provide enough for you? You feel an urge to court my best man and colleague all of a sudden because you are bored of your humdrum domesticity? Is that what you love about Los Alamos, the fine selection of like-minded substitutes once you tire of me? Am I not enough?" His voice raised before he caught himself, releasing a shaky breath. He was genuinely upset and you felt rotten, but only for a second. It's not like he was clean in this either.

"Don't be ridiculous. I swear, you always assume the worst of me," you scoffed in response.

"Well, I certainly know a cheat when I see one," he said bitterly, twisting his fingers out of yours and dropping his arm.

"Yes, you would know indeed. But Jesus, Robert, he's only a friend, your friend I might add, and it was only a bit of fun, nothing serious. You said it yourself, it's good for him to loosen up. What else are parties for?"

"Right. Oh, yes, I'm sure that's exactly it," he replied sarcastically.

"He started it, you know, after Richard dared him to kiss me apparently at the party."

"Then I'll be speaking to both of them. But you need to stop it, quit acting so childish and inappropriate over this. You're smarter than this shtick and there is too much at stake to be partaking in silly juvenile romantic games."

"You do realize I'm at least fifteen years younger than you, right? You can't expect me to be, well, whatever it is called to be at your age. Old, is it?" you mocked and normally that would've sounded very rude in any other situation, but he knew your sharp side all too well to take it too seriously, especially when delivered with a teasing smile.

"You couldn't think of a worse slander than 'old'?" he scoffed, unimpressed, and you snorted, tapping the knot of his tie affectionately.

"The point is, I am indeed younger than you."

"So? I have no issue with that and you have proved yourself very capable of co-existence so far, I think you are quite mature for your age actually, at least until now... But I don't think biological age matters in love."

"I was just over eighteen when you began courting me and you used to flirt with your few female physics students that were no older," you reminded him and he diverted his gaze, tapping his foot anxiously and he distractedly flicked out a cigarette from his pocket pack, lighting it in a second and puffing in response. You stepped back from the plume of smoke, glancing towards the window and crossing your arms. He exhaled loudly and jerked his hand to point the cigarette at you and then spoke with ultimatum.

"I don't want to see you enter this laboratory with the intention of unnecessary interruption ever again. I will tell the officers outside to stop and restrain you if you do. Hell, I'll take these matters to the General if I have to, you hear me on that?"

"I certainly do as a matter of fact and I also know for a fact that you'd be wasting his time. Petty marriage squabbles isn't a high priority or forte for a high-ranking military man like him. But as for you, well, now you know what it feels like to be jeopardized over another human being," you countered.

"My ties are very different and I would never think to do it so publicly! I am discreet about such internal, highly private business," he exclaimed, getting frustrated with this discussion and this made you laugh humorlessly.

"Bullshit and you know that. I saw you a week before our wedding walking hand in hand with Jean down Shasta Road and what about that time afterwards when our friends saw you dancing with-"

He quickly talked louder, running over your words heatedly.

"No, no, no. You are just feeding into this ridiculousness and fabricating a relationship that isn't there!"

"Maybe so, but I thought it would be a good lesson, or test, for you and if this is any indicator, you've been bothered. I take heart in that you must love me so that it has unnerved you to see me with another man."

"There was never any doubt that I love you. Christ, if that's what this is all about..." He sighed, rubbing his creased forehead briefly before walking backwards to the door, opening it up and you could hear the dull chatter of voices from the other room.

"Well?" you asked when he didn't do anything, just standing with hands on his hips.

"I want you to do whatever it is that pleasures you, just as long as it doesn't happen to be luring my top physicist and close friend in a back room during the middle of a workday. Have some standard decency for God's sake," he spat, the words stinging, and you crystalized, uncrossing your arms and shaking your head at the hypocrisy.

"I never noticed it until we came here, but Ruth sure has your attention, doesn't she?"

"Pardon?" He blinked.

"You heard me."

"Ruthie has nothing to do with this and how dare you drag her name through your muddled mood today."

"Ruthie?" You rolled your eyes at clear affection underlying his tone.

"Listen to yourself Robert, you have feelings for her, you've always been close."

"She's a very dear friend, one of the few people I can truly confide in and share my emotions with, nothing more," he insisted.

"Am I part of that select number of confidants?"

"Of, of course. Has our entire marriage been for naught? I cannot believe your attitude over this, it's deplorable."

"It must be very nice to be you, Robert. No one here in Los Alamos casts open judgement upon you," you commented bitterly and he cringed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before staring back at you.

"Not yet, anyway," he answered with a tone of cryptic ominousness and you only frowned, shoving past him to exit the building.

A full twenty four hours passed without further incident until you haphazardly ran into Feynman on the street, just the man you were looking for.

"Richard?"

"Yeah?" He stopped and gave you a familiar cocky smile which dropped at the narrowed eyes and serious expression you were giving him.

"Oh, is this about the party? I didn't think he'd even do it, I apologize for our frivolousness that night. Clearly very unacceptable." He cleared his throat awkwardly and you leaned close, speaking in a low murmur.

"Do me a favor?"

"Uh, sure...?"

"I have an assignment for you: Find me a single man - preferably scientist - in this town, anyone remotely attractive will do, but no close friends or direct colleagues of Robert's, it has to be at least second or third tier from his inner circle and single - I'm not crossing into some other woman's territory - and arrange me a date with him in secret. Think of it as an experimental equation: One attempted devoted wife plus one all-but-labeled womanizer husband plus unsuspecting stag. It's time to give someone a taste of his own sweet and sour medicine."

"Oh, you feel like causing a scandal, do you? It won't take a mathematician to see what it'll will add up to." He chuckled in disbelief but then dropped his voice, casting wary glances around at passing residents, or civilians, as everyone who was non-military were officially called.

"Are you quite sure about this?"

"If I let my conscience speak, then no. But if I let every other fiber of my being, then yes. Will you do it?"

"I... I can't, no, this is beneath us," he protested, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.

"It's one event at a casual party, it's quite another outside... Well, you know. Real tampering with people's lives has consequences and I'm not sure I'm the man for this job, I think if maybe, it-"

"I'll pay you," you interrupted quickly and he quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer.

"How much?" he whispered curiously.

"Twenty?"

"Make it 100 and you've got yourself a deal. I'll do it and you can pay me later at your convenience. Now excuse me, but I have some business elsewhere."

He hurried off and there was no further word until one early morning you came into the kitchen as Robert was dressing his toast and brewing coffee, and you were surprised to see a bouquet of long stemmed red roses on the table. Naturally, you looked to him as his habit of flower gifting was infamous, but he was staring just as confounded as you were. He seemed positively rattled, in fact.

"Did you...?" he asked and you echoed that same question.

"Did you?"

"No, I haven't been flower picking as of late," he replied dryly with a taut closed smile and then it dawned on you. Could it be from the mystery date you'd sent Feynman to set up?

"I'll put them in the living room, shall I? They'll get the strong afternoon light that will illuminate their velvety rouge petals," you expressed and he nodded emotionlessly, turning back to the toast and grabbing the pot of coffee.

Once you were alone in the lounge, you carefully inspected the flowers; they were beautiful and fairly fresh, only one or two were curling at the tips from the heat and as you held it up to admire, there was a small square piece of paper taped on the bottom of the skinny glass vase: It was a thin note, reading of a scrambled code of some sorts. You smirked, knowing it had to be Feynman who did this; he was always writing letters in code to his ailing sweetheart stuck in Albuquerque.

"Y/N, have you seen my badge? It's gone missing!" Robert called anxiously from the kitchen and you quickly tore the note off the bottom and tucked it into your pajamas.

"You probably left it on the dresser," you called back to him absentmindedly.

Once he left for the day, you sat down and worked to crack the code, which wasn't terribly hard considering it was predictable; boiling down to an address, date and time. You'd hoped for a name of the mystery gentleman, but didn't seem to get one.

That evening, you dressed in one of your finest silk dresses, red in color as the roses, and made your way to the bachelor's dormitory on the other side of town. You technically weren't allowed to be transversing around here, especially at this hour, and you cringed at a couple of catcalling whistles from young drunken men loitering outside. You ignored them, hurrying up the stairs to the mystery man's dorm and knocked once. The door opened, almost cautiously, and a decent looking young man stood there, his short brunette hair combed back and he wore a well pressed suit but with a blue tie slightly out of alignment.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he greeted in a pleasant voice and you automatically blushed, staring into his eyes which were a very watered-down literation of Robert's own blues; if his were the ocean, this man's were a lake on a grey skied afternoon and it made you feel a tad sad about doing this. Of course no man's eyes could ever quite compare.

"Hello...?" you trailed off, needing a name to this blind date of yours.

"My name is Anthony, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

"Pleasure to meet you and please, that makes me sound old and tethered. Just call me Y/N."

He nodded, stepping aside and you went inside, closing the door behind you as you surveyed the somewhat neat living quarters consisting of basic furniture and scattered paperwork and magazines.

"I apologize if this is rather awkward, but I take it Richard gave you the details?"

"More or less," Anthony answered and the way he was ogling at you wasn't so much like piece of meat, but out of respect and disbelief that he had actually had a date with the wife of the top dog scientific director of Los Alamos.

"Would you care for a drink? I just have, uh, scotch if that's alright. Probably different from what you're used to," he murmured the last part and you assured him quickly it was alright.

"Yes I would, thank you."

He handed a half filled glass to you gently and you noticed his hands were trembling slightly.

"You don't have to be nervous, I'm really not all that remarkable. I may have my husband's name, but I'm certainly not him, you know. We all bask in the long reaching shade of Oppie, don't we?"

"Right, of course," he chuckled, offering you a seat on the sofa and taking a sip of his own, regarding you impressively.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" you asked tenderly and he shrugged, still rather timid.

"I was dating a girl back in college but we broke off right before I signed onto the project."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four," he answered.

"Good, not younger than me; I suppose we are perhaps compatible then in that respect. You don't need to hear my life story, but I was a year in studying medicine at Stanford until this and now I suppose I'm just another housewife at the moment." You sighed, taking a small sip and nodding at him pleasantly.

"So what do you do here, generally? I take it you aren't one of the boys in Oppie's so-called cult?"

"No, I'm an engineer actually. I work in one of the labs, hands on, none of that theoretical bunch."

You nodded approvingly and there was a lapse of silence until he gestured with his glass, sloshing the liquid slightly.

"So I take it you're quite unhappy with... with Dr. Oppenheimer if you wanted to meet with another man?" he asked cautiously, disguising excitement.

"No questions, if you don't mind. I'm not here to talk about him," you replied seriously and he nodded fervently, setting the drink down on the side table.

"Yes, right. I apologize. I guess that doesn't leave much formalities then." He paused, swiping his tongue across his lips.

"I'd like to kiss you if that's not rushing too much," he proposed politely, but with a tone of urgency.

"Go right ahead." You braced as he leaned in, inches from your lips and you shared air for a second before he plunged forward, groping your mouth fast and lightly. But it felt all so wrong. You lightly pulled back, his hands not even holding your face like Robert always did so there wasn't much real intimacy, and glanced to the floor self consciously.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," you murmured guiltily. Maybe it wasn't even your conscience; maybe he just wasn't the right guy.

"But I thought you wanted it...?" Anthony's brows furrowed in hurt confusion and offense, so you quickly backpedaled.

"Not here, we can't do anything here. How about... Do you want to come over to my home?" you blurted out abruptly and he swallowed.

"But is-isn't your husband home?"

"That's the point."

Gathering courage for the both of you, Anthony then stood and took your hand to walk you to the door, leading you out down to the street level and the two of you walked all the way to Bathtub Row together. You could tell he was in awe of these homes that were larger and much better constructed.

"So this is how the other side lives." Anthony gave a low whistle and you laughed, bumping his side gently.

"Don't worry. We use the same water, electricity, and plumbing as you do, it's just a little more glamorous and I promise you anyone living in Los Alamos to work on the project is not substandard or lower class, even if the military may be rather degrading at times. It's all just a socially constructed hierarchy."

He squeezed your waist affectionately and you led him to the house, telling him to wait by the shrubs as you walked around to peer into the windows to see if Robert was still up, which you'd be surprised if he wasn't, and indeed he was: reclining in an armchair by the fireplace, reading and puffing on his pipe.

You signaled to Anthony to come closer and he crossed the yard to stand by the side of the house, appearing wary. He mouthed 'do you see him?' and you nodded, turning your back to the window and beckoned to him to move close. He carefully did so until he was a few inches from your face and you swallowed at the intimacy, the daring nerve to kiss a man right in front of the windowpanes where your husband sat in the living room.

"Kiss me, but passionately this time, no holding back. Just pretend it's only the two of us, okay?" you whispered and he breathed in, parting lips.

"Is this a dream?" he whispered and you giggled lightly, straddling his body and cupping the back of his neck, hairs bristling your fingers.

"Only if you want it to be, but no telling anyone when you wake up, understand?"

"No one would believe me... I feel as though I'm about to commit a great sin against the Oppenheimer unity, I can't believe I'm going to do this," he admitted with a dark chuckle.

"I can," you breathed and before you knew it, his lips connected to yours and the kiss was actually amazingly passionate indeed for two people who just personally met tonight. You breathed in his musky scent and intertwined tongues, smooshing noses and you felt him push you up against the window, arms embracing you whole and you secretly hoped it would eventually catch Robert's attention. Your intention was just one full kiss, but now this man had you, he seemed reluctant to let go as you began to lean back from his mouth, head lightly conking against the window. Anthony groped your breasts hungrily and you felt his hard-on pressing against your thigh as your bodies rubbed, the kissing becoming sloppier and for a moment, you completely forgot what you'd done this for. A faint yell came from somewhere and Anthony grew more attached, tightening his grasp on your frame, kissing harder and you started to feel a slight wetness in your panties.

"Stop! Get off of her! Please, that's my wife!" Robert's voice called in audible distress and you realized this must look a lot worse than it was, and you had to admit this man was getting a bit rougher as his more primal desire came to fruition and you grunted, turning your head and trying to wriggle out from underneath his locking embrace.

"That's enough, enough," you murmured anxiously, but he wasn't stopping.

"You said this could be my dream, can't ya let me finish first?" Anthony growled in your ear, but you were done, having successfully alarmed your husband. This wasn't meant to go further and quite frankly, you were unnerved how quickly it had escalated. He wasn't quite the shy gentleman scientist anymore once he was aroused, but you supposed these types of adventures did bring out the animalistic behavior in most after all.

Simple souls, Robert had said once of human beings.

Unfortunately, he was now witness to such a 'simple man' about to take you right on the windows of his stone and log cabin style house.

"STOP THAT NOW!" Robert yelled off to the right and you felt Anthony being forcefully tugged away, his arm flailing out and trying to grasp, catching your hair and you winced as he accidentally yanked painfully.

You were suddenly released and you gasped, sidestepping and watching in shock as Robert tried to jump on the man, his belt removed from his waist and gripped tightly in his hands as he wrestled it aggressively around Anthony's neck, constricting with enough force to make him gag and choke.

"Robert, no!" you shouted, rushing forward and attempting to pull him away, but it was as if he were deaf to the wind.

"I demand you to LEAVE my property at once and to NEVER see my wife, or this won't end on civilized terms," he threatened loudly and you'd never seen such a fire in his piercing eyes before. It intrigued and frightened you, considering he was not a brute in any sense. Anthony pleaded through his choking, whimpering pathetically, until Robert finally backed off, snapping the belt and huffing.

The other man stumbled up to his feet and held up his hands in surrender as Robert squinted in the dark, trying to fully identify him.

"I'm terribly apologetic Dr. Oppenheimer, sir, I won't bother you or the Mrs. anymore, I'll be right on my way!"

Anthony ran like a bat out of hell from the property and once it was silent, Robert turned to you with heavy breaths, the belt hanging limply at his side. You took one look and then rushed inside in the house, kicking off your heels in the hallway and dashing into the bedroom, slamming the door, heart pounding a sprint.

Moments later, you heard his clodding footsteps and anxious voice calling out desperately, the door bursting open.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" he gasped as you shrunk away from him, still feeling Anthony's hands all over you and the whole guilt imploded, resulting in a sudden overflow of tears.

"Fuck, Robert! It's all my fault, I told Richard Feynman to set us up and I told Anthony to come here as a show to make you jealous and it advanced, I promise he meant no harm, we just wanted-"

"You did this on purpose?" he interrupted, betrayal lighting his features and you wiped messily at the tears streaming down your own.

"Yes! I kissed him on purpose! I wanted to spite you, I'm sorry but I cannot handle this anymore! I wanted to hurt and infuriate you like you do to me with your blatant love of other women! I bribed Richard $100 for a date with a single scientist, I didn't know what I'd get, but I'm glad you saw us together, it is only fair when I have to read love letters to past girlfriends... or are they just current 'friends'?!"

His mouth gaped and the frown lines appeared, creasing his forehead in prudent anger.

"The audacity... I suppose I indeed underestimated you, my sweet Aphrodite," he said lowly, voice a low rumble and despite everything you actually felt a shiver of arousal in your core.

In two strides, he met you at the foot of the bed, grabbing your head in a vice and in a bizarrely dominant twist, pinned you down to the bed, trapping you underneath him and yet you saw the uncertainty flicker. He was pretending to be so dominant, but couldn't take the reins fully.

Oh, Oppie.

"Roll over," you ordered sharply and he did, collapsing onto his back as you unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down hastily, staring at his cock straining against his boxers. You placed your palm on it, teasing him and he moaned softly, shaking his head at the deviousness on your face.

"No, please. Please, let me out, please don't do this, please..."

Begging. He was actually begging. After he just had attacked a man outside and was reeling from your confession, he was here at an embarrassingly burgeoning erection.

"I'm so close that I don't need you inside me, but I think you need a bit more help, is that right?" you whispered condescendingly and he gulped, eyes wide dilated marbles.

"I'm sorry about all of it, I never meant t-to-" he sputtered off as you clapped a hand to his mouth and you straddled his body, legs quivering with anticipation.

His penis grew harder and a clear wet stain bled through the fabric, causing him to squirm underneath you and you smiled, bumping up and grinding against clothed erection. You yelped at the sudden rush of internal pleasure and his hands gripped your dress at the hips, gasping along with your heaves and whines, but he himself was yet to peak. He seemed mortified as you then sat back and placed firm hands down on his crotch, holding his bulge tightly. He groaned, mortified as you wouldn't let him go, and after stretching him out to his limits for too long, a single squeeze brought him to a full climax, absolutely soaking his boxers and he threw his head back on the pillow, reveling in the orgasm.

Panting, you climbed off him and he weakly sat up, holding out a hand with the other on his wet crotch in sheer humiliation. You left the bed, gathering your appearance and catching breath.

"No, don't... Don't leave," he requested desperately from his spot on the bed and you shook your head, tousling hair as you glanced over at him.

"Clean up your own mess, darling," you told him firmly, a metaphor as much as a literal one.

He sighed, swinging legs off the bed and hobbling off to the bathroom as you began to undress, slipping out of the dress and into a bedtime robe.

He came back in, clean but utterly naked, and his dick was still dripping a smidge at the tip.

"You very much ruined a good pair of my underwear," he complained and you merely shrugged, patting the bed as you crawled in and he joined, scooting under the sheets and pulling you close, resting his forehead at yours, speaking in a mutter.

"You just had to stoop low with that male 'catch' of yours, didn't you?"

"That's not very nice, darling. Anthony seemed like a nice man and he's an engineer, I'll have you know."

"He isn't a third of the man I am."

"No one is you, Robert. That's why I went to another man in the first place."

"I truly wanted to suffocate the life out of him, I would have maimed him quite seriously had I lacked control. I haven't thought of doing such a terrible action since my Cambridge episodes, my terrible fits of jealousy... I suppose I expressed protection over you," he mused grimly.

"It's the thought that counts," you commented darkly.

"I can be so impulsive and erratic... You and everyone knows quite well how I was going to poison my tutor; I had injected potassium cyanide in the body of that innocent apple and left it on his desk..."

You remembered it had been Jean who had offhandedly first mentioned this story to you and she had assured you it was only because he was going through a very difficult phase in his life and actually all he needed to feel fulfilled was to just "get laid" as she aptly put it. Funnily enough, 'getting laid' was the least of Robert's problems now.

He took your hand at the moment and grasped too hard, squeezing your fingers, leaning towards you anxiously and speaking urgently.

"Listen, and I mean this very much: Don't ever see another man, I don't think I can do this again without gravely spraining my heart."

"And your enormous ego," you added the obvious with a small smile and he returned it, also giving you a light kiss on the cheek and cuddling in close.

"I love you," he offered gently and you shot him a glance, unable to hide the blushing smirk.

"Touché."

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chiharuuu22 · 17 days

Text

Still wearing pajamas and warmed only by a cardigan, socks, and a blanket around his thighs, Whumpee sat in an armchair on the terrace and was propped up by pillows on either side. Beside him, Caretaker sat with him, accompanying him in a sweater and long skirt. The air still felt cold, even though it was already 9 a.m. Maybe the influence of early autumn.

Besides the two, there was a round table with two bowls of potato soup with thin slices of crispy beef and two glasses of water. Whumpee's favorite soup he started eating today after being able to only eat watery soup for a while.

Whumpee sat facing directly towards the lake, with the forest several tens of meters from the cabin where they were. His gaze was calm and peaceful, as if he no longer had any burdens to carry. Occasionally, Whumpee receives a bite of his soup from Caretaker who patiently helps him eat.

"Want to go there?" Caretaker offered after wiping Whumpee's mouth. "We can go to the lake this afternoon when it's warmer, if you want."

Caretaker returned to feeding Whumpee, saying, "It's not good to stay inside all the time. You need a new atmosphere and a breath of fresh air other than on this terrace."

"I like it in here," Whumpee answered after swallowing his soup. "But I guess it wouldn't be bad to go to the lake there. What's there?"

"Not much, but I thought you'd like it," Caretaker stroked the back of Whumpee's hand. "We can see beautiful views. Now and then, some people come to fish or boat. Freshly caught fish from the lake tastes delicious. There are lots of rabbits there. There are very beautiful flower fields when spring comes. If you're lucky, you can see a deer or a fox peeking shyly from the opposite forest."

"That sounds interesting. I think I'll want to go there later," said Whumpee. "I'm surprised; I never knew you had a cabin here."

"This belonged to my late parents. When I was little, we often came here to vacation and relax from the hustle and bustle of the city," explained Caretaker with a smile, and she returned to feeding soup to Whumpee. "A suitable place for your recovery, right? Quiet, peaceful, comfortable, and you don't have to worry about anything here."

Whumpee smiled and held Caretaker's hand. "Yes, it feels very comfortable. Thank you."

Caretaker smiled and grabbed Whumpee's hand back. "Come on, let's finish your breakfast, take medicine, clean up, then let's get ready to go to the lake!" said Caretaker cheerfully.

"You say that, but you haven't touched your food at all. You just keep feeding me," protested Whumpee. "Your soup is getting cold."

Caretaker laughed, "How about it, huh? I'm full just watching you eat like this."

"What answer is that?" Whumpee protested again but didn't refuse when a spoonful of soup was brought to his mouth. "Eat too, Caretaker."

Caretaker laughed and started feeding herself soup, making Whumpee smile widely. Caretaker feels very grateful for simple moments like this. Seeing Whumpee get healthier and hearing about the good progress of the problems they were having with Whumper. Indeed, it's not every day that they feel calm because now and then the Team Leader or other members come and give them lots of news, or they provide updates on the tasks that the Team Leader has given them. Hey, even though Caretaker and Whumpee are far from the Team, they still carry out their duties well. Except for Whumpee, who still needs a lot of rest.

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billthedrake · 2 months

Text

THE BOARDROOM (PART FOUR)

This chapter probably works better having read the previous ones.

ENGLISH AND ITALIAN TAILORING

I had been spending the winter taking some time away from The Boardroom gatherings. Some of it was giving Ethan his space and not trying to claim The Boardroom as my space, even if it kind of was. I knew my ex would flourish there, and at that point he needed it more than I did.

Besides, I was doing a lot of travel and work had been crazy busy. I had made sure to prioritize my gym and exercise time, as well as my diet. After that I didn't have a lot of energy for anything else.

I enjoyed a lot of masturbation time, for sure. I experimented with watching non-suit porn. I got off to a lot of it, but generally enjoyed going back to the tried and true suit scenes.

The Boardroom had a series of gatherings that didn't do it for me. Power Suit Night. Vests Night. Sheer Socks Night. Fashion Week. I declined at each RSVP and gave other guys a spot.

I even missed the semi-annual Executive Board Meeting, since I was out of town for work. But I was pleased to hear from Ethan that he'd been promoted to Junior Executive. His new suits and regular attendance in my absence had paid off.

Now I realized I was due to host. And maybe it was the increasingly spring weather, but my libido was bouncing back like crazy. A Boardroom party sounded like just the thing. And I had my English-tailored pinstripe suit waiting to make its debut.

I sent out the email:

"Hello Gentlemen of the Boardroom - Next meeting is devoted to English and Italian tailoring. Priority to the men with the real deal. Soft shoulder or English draping. Slim silhouette or waist suppression. RSVP English or Italian wear. Waitlist of others who appreciate European tailoring. Men not in English or Italian clothing can wear only accessories at the Boardroom this time."

"That's genius, Bill," Ken wrote, with his RSVP for Italian.

Marty had an Italian sport coat and trousers, which was good for me.

Kevin was the only other exec to RSVP, but didn't have an outfit.

But the Junior Execs and New Hires came through. Darren said he'd wear an English suit. I wasn't surprised to hear he was the only other regular with one but as it happened, an Interviewee was visiting from England and expressed interest.

John was a Junior Exec I'd not seen too much lately. After his promotion, he'd started dating someone exclusively. I guessed that was now a thing of the past, since he responded that he had an Italian suit he'd love to wear. One the Newer Hires, another Mike - Mike 2 - chimed in that he had just come back from a destination wedding in Italy and had something appropriate.

I didn't want Kevin to be the only one in just accessories, so I admitted another non-suit wearing guy, a New Hire, Rick.

Since it had been a while since I hosted, I splurged on a nice suite at the Four Seasons Downtown. I normally channeled my spare money into attire, not hotel rooms, but I figured I had saved money by not going on dates the last half a year.

I showed up early and got everything ready. Setting out lube, towels and spare tissues, along with some glasses of water to help with clean up.

Mike - Mike 2 as we called him since he's joined since Doctor Mike - was the first to show up. I didn't really know him, but he was good looking, kind of a regular 30yo gay guy, fit in that New York way. But his suit made him look killer. Nice rounded shoulders, tan color that showed off his brown hair and blue eyes.

"God, fuck, that's a nice suit, Bill," he said as he walked into the suite. I stepped back and let him get a look. Yeah, I was proud of this one. It was British tailoring, definitely, but I'd chosen a fabric and silhouette that wouldn't look too out of place in New York. I'd paired it with a pink shirt with a spread collar, a windsor knot on my repp tie, and for shoes I went with my Edward Greens.

"Thanks," I said. "You're looking amazing... nice introduction, I'd say."

"Agreed," he smiled. I could tell he was throwing hard in his suit, which I loved. I mean, all of us guys in the Boardroom had the kink, but some men just really embraced the horniness of a good suit. Mike cocked a grin. "We should probably wait for the others to fool around?"

"We don't gotta," I said. And like that, I stepped up and ran my hand along his shoulder, the light-weight wool perfectly molded to his strong delts. His hand went right for my crotch, working up my boner in my trousers.

We kissed. It was a hungry, horny kiss as our hands took in each other's suit.

Just then a knock came. I laughed as I broke up the impetuous make out session with Mike. Marty was there, with beefy Mark. Marty's sport coat was great, but maybe paled in comparison to Mike's full-on suit. Mark was in casual clothes, but as he came in, he began removing everything but a pair of socks and sock suspenders. On his meaty build, the look was pretty damn hot, especially because his cock filled out to full staff showing off for us.

Darren arrived next. He had more that English country gentleman look, the brown-green plaid looking incredible with his tall lean frame and chocolate-brown skin. Marty was already pawing at the coat and trousers. He and Darren always had some chemistry, and the English attire was drawing the man like a moth to a flame.

Over in one corner of the suite, nearly-naked, beefy Mark was on his knees, sucking Mike in full suited attire.

I enjoyed watching, squeezing my crotch, then I decided to join the action, stepping up to Mike and smiling at the cute guy. "He's good, huh?" I asked.

Mike nodded. "Why don't you pull your dick out and see for yourself." OK, Mike 2 had a domish edge that surprised me.

I grinned, reaching down to do just that. "Oh I've had his mouth," I said. I wagged my hard cock in Mark's direction and nudged it against his cheek. The guy got the picture.

"It's been a while, Bill," he said, looking up from my dick and up to my face.

"Yep," I replied. "Why don't you show me what I've been missing."

"Fuck yeah," he hissed. Mark loved sucking dick. The more the better, in his book. I grunted as I felt that talented mouth descend on my pole. It had been way too long since I'd come to Boardroom night.

Mike laughed as he watched my reaction. I looked at him and I felt that magnetic charge again. We kissed and I felt his hand run along my lapel. I was getting way too into this, but thankfully Mark pulled off and started blowing Mike. I pulled back from the kiss and looked over at the other guys.

Kevin was here now, and was on all fours on one of the beds next to Marty. Both men had their trousers pulled down and were making out while Darren went back and forth, slowly fucking in full country-estate wear.

And I noticed that Rick had arrived. I gathered he was a finance guy, from his demeanor and previous attire. But he didn't have on any clothing now, not really, given my accessories-only stipulation. And damn, the dude had a body that wouldn't quit. Ripped and toned, not huge but densely muscular build for his 5'10" body. It was an Ethan-caliber body, and the realization made me shiver a bit. Before Ethan, my taste had run fit-normal. My ex Kevin.... my Boardroom crush Pete. Regular NYC guys, my age.

Maybe it was silly to go for perfect, but it was fun to watch as Rick strutted over in just his over-the-calf socks, English-made tan oxfords, a tie tied around his neck and an expensive Swiss watch on his wrist. The only thing keeping him from being porn-star material was a smaller than average dick, which was still pretty damn appealing in its rock-hard spike as he walked over.

"Hey," he greeted, giving me a nod, but his attention more on Mike 2.

"Hey Rick," Mike grinned. They'd clearly met before. And maybe more.

They kissed.

"Nice suit, bro," Rick hissed, now running his hand along Mike's front. It was fun to watch the spark of sexual chemistry between these two late-20s guys, but yeah, I was gonna get left out.

Mark had even started sucking Rick's bone, taking advantage of the smaller size to really go to town on it. Meanwhile, Mike and Rick made out taking some breaks so Mike could watch his Boardroom buddy admire his new suit.

I should have just left them but it was hot to watch. So I stroked and stood near. Mark had gone back to Mike's bigger cock. It was hot to see him kneeling in his socks and sock suspenders, the hairness of his legs a contrast to the sheer sock fabric. Rick arched his back and I could then see that Mike had his hand wedged back into his ass, fingering and playing around with Rick's hole.

"I wanna use that ass, man," Mike grunted.

Rick nodded and like that, Mike was pushing Mark off his dick. The two didn't even acknowledge me and Mark as they made their way over to the spare bed.

"Sorry, Bill, looks like you're stuck with me," Mark said as he stood up. His dick was hard and leaking. Even if I wasn't a huge socks fetishist, I had to admit the sock garters looked great on his beefier build. Kind of that feminine/masculine contrast.

I flashed him a smile. "A-OK with me," I replied politely. "It's been a while since we connected here."

He nodded, stepping up. We didn't kiss. Partly because that wasn't Mark's MO - he was all about cock - but partly because we didn't have that natural chemistry. Still, his hands were on my suit coat.

"You have a really incredible suit," he said. "It really should be getting more attention."

He was right. About the suit, maybe, but in particular about what I was feeling wistful about. Maybe I was becoming one of the respected founding executives. A man with a great suit but not so imminently fuckable, you know?

"Wanna give it some attention?" I smirked.

I let Mark feel me up, and I got off on his near naked body in contrast to my suited one. It was fun, seeing him sensually touch the fabric and massage my body beneath it. But eventually his goal was clearly.

"OK if I suck you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, that'd be hot."

This was more transactional. I had a big dick and Mark loved to suck. This is what a sex party often was, if you stripped away the suit fetish. Two men just getting their rocks off.

And Mark was a good cocksucker. Not too fast but he knew how to work me up to a good cum before long. I held onto his head, not roughly but as a sign I was about to blast. The man moaned around my cock, telling me to let it rip. I did, blasting several hot rounds down his throat.

He milked me and worked the dribbles slowly before giving my dick a parting kiss. "I love sucking off a man in a suit," he said, taking one last look before getting up. "OK if I go find another?" he asked.

"Have at it," I grinned, taking a seat to have a break. I knew I wouldn't have another in me, but I'd enjoy seeing the guys pair up in suits. Besides, since I was hosting, I couldn't really leave.

It didn't take Mark long to find another dick to suck. Darren had gone, and Marty was getting slowly fucked by newcomer John, in a navy Italian suit. But Kevin was alone, like me watching the action while he stood in an Italian sport coat and tie, naked from the waist down. Mark got right into to place and started sucking while Kevin watched the other guys.

I looked over at the other bed. Mike 2 had clearly gotten off inside Rick and the two were on the bed, making out as a third guy in a full navy suit was now on top of Rick, working his way inside the hunk. I take it was the English guy, the Interviewee.

I watched them fuck. It was an amazing sight. The English lad had his trousers pulled down mid-thigh so I could see some of his dimpled ass flex as he thrust into the hot finance bro beneath him.

Mike 2 lay beside them, his dick now retreated back into his crotch but his eyes still showing excitement as he ran his hands up and down the English guy's coat. I don't know that his suit was overly high-quality but the English tailoring was novel, and the wool fit his form like a glove.

I turned over to see Kevin's eyes on the live sex show. These Boardroom meeting were 50 percent clothing fetish and 50 percent old fashioned sex party. Well, maybe it started out as 80/20, but increasingly it felt there was a moment like this, where some pairing would become the center of attention.

Kevin's brown eyes met mine in recognition. He was my ex from my early 30s, and to this day we had a kind of telepathy. He was thinking the same thing as me, and he was getting turned on. I watched the guy as he humped into Beefy Mark's mouth and started cumming.

It was a great spectacle to watch. I didn't really have the hots for Kevin these days, but his love of suited sex still could get me going.

The only bad thing was I missed the English guy's orgasm. He was sliding off the bed and hiking up his trousers while he fetched a spare cloth to clean off his hard uncut prick still jutting up from a creamy white midsection.

"Heya," he greeted as he walked over to me, tucking in and buckling back up.

"Hi," I said. "You must be Gavin."

"Indeed I am," he said. He reminded me of English Ben who I met at a Boardroom party and whom I reconnected with on my last trip to London. "Great party."

"Thanks," I said. "Great to have newcomers. You visiting New York?"

Maybe because we'd both gotten off, it felt fine to be chatty. The guy picked up a water bottle for a swig. "Yah, here on work, but added a couple days for holiday."

"Glad you could come," I said. "You were fun to watch." OK, maybe I was being flirty, and maybe I had a weakness for the accent.

"Thanks." He grinned and took another sip. I could tell he was flattered but that I wasn't his type. "I'm going to get going. But OK if I reach out again, next time I'm in town?"

"Absolutely," I said. And I watched Gavin leave the suite.

In fact, the guys pretty much were filing out pretty quickly. I didn't expect anyone to stay over, but as Rick and Mike 2 left together, with a clear chemistry between them, I kind of wished I wasn't going to spend the night in this hotel suite alone.

SUSPENDERS NIGHT

"Sorry I didn't make the party, Bill," Ethan said in our Monday workout. I was up to two sessions with him a week. No more comped ones - I paid him the full fee, though I gathered he socked some of that away in a special savings account dedicated to his clothing habit. It was wild to see a guy like him, young and athletic, embrace the suit fetish lifestyle. I sometimes wonder if that was New York, the way it nurtured a subculture like ours. Elsewhere Ethan certainly would have gotten off on suited men but maybe it wouldn't have developed for him like it did.

I set down the dumbbells he had me lifting. I gave him a friendly but direct look. "It's working out best that we keep to separate parties I suppose."

He nodded in agreement, then added. "I know. It's just, I guess that's the first Boardroom meeting you've hosted since I've joined. I feel bad for not going."

I felt a twinge of something. Regret, guilt, sadness, all rolled into one. But I tried to keep a poker face. "Like I say, Ethan, it's OK. For real."

He seemed to be trying on his poker face too. "I didn't have any English or Italian suit to wear anyway."

I grinned and Ethan knew why. That meant he'd have been mostly naked. That was kind of our thing when we were an item, and fortunately he laughed.

"Yeah you wouldn't have minded that," he said. I don't know, somehow the flirting helped break the tensions some. He set me up on the cable machine for the next set and said quietly, "I have been saving up for some proper English shoes."

"Yeah?" I asked. Ethan was a big foot/shoe guy, so it wasn't a surprise.

He nodded. "I know you'd advise against it, Bill, you know focus my money elsewhere, but it's what's gonna make me happy."

"You should go for it, Ethan. Splurge on those bad boys." I did my set, which was harder than I expected. In his own laid back way, Ethan was really pushing me today. I stepped back after and continued my thought. "You know I don't have to approve of your purchases... I mean, I hope you don't think I'm controlling."

He shrugged. "Not controlling. More, I just... well, you were kind of a mentor to me, and you still are... I don't want to think I don't respect your advice."

"My advice is to enjoy the hell out of your new shoes."

Ethan laughed. "I don't have 'em yet, Bill."

"Is this a way of saying your going to raise your rate on me?" I teased.

His eyes twinkled. God he was a cute fucker. "Nah.... but if you ever feel like squeezing an extra session in...."

"Let's do it," I said.

That surprised Ethan. "I was just kidding, Bill. I didn't mean..."

"I know. But it'll be good. Ethan's shoe fund. And an extra installment on my beach bod plan."

"If you're sure," he said.

"As long as you can work around my schedule," I said. Work had been pretty hectic lately.

"I will," he said. His whole posture was more confident now. I think it was the excitement of getting his shoes, but something else.

He put me through the paces for a few more sets and as we were wrapping up, he pulled out his phone to schedule my third session for the week.

"You sure, Bill?" he asked.

"Sure I'm sure."

He smiled and we figured out a good time. Then, as I was about to head to the locker room to change, Ethan asked in a low voice. "You going to suspenders night?"

This was George's turn at hosting and he'd put out a call for suspenders/braces. The great thing about the idea was how open it was to different clothing styles.

"I was thinking about it," I said. "But if you're going..." I hadn't explicitly made an agreement with Ethan to avoid the meetups he went to, but it was clear that I did.

"I want to," he said. "But you don't have to say no on my account. I think we've been pretty mature about stuff."

We had. Ethan especially. I was the one who'd called things off, and he seemed to get back on his game just fine. I gathered that he might not be dating anyone serious but he was getting back into the dating scene. Good for him.

"I guess, so," I said.

***

It had been too long since I fucked Pete. But when he showed up at the Boardroom Meeting and we made eye contact, we just knew the chemistry was still there. We played with some of the other guys - Mike 1, the young doctor, who was in his trad element, and Rob, who was in a really fucking nice suit - subtle pinstripe, bengal stripe shirt, and solid gaberdine tie. Unlike me the guys had showier suspenders - Rob's beneath his suit coat, Mike and Pete showing off their suspenders in shirt sleeves. Pete had white cuffs on an oxford stripe shirt, which was a nice vintage touch. His body was pretty fantastic in it too.

He had some group kissing and stroking and BJ swapping before Pete and I took the arrival of George to pull away from the guys to take to the bed.

Ethan was on the other bed, in just his dress shirt and tie, as Tom Stephenson lie on top of him, fully clothed and kissing and thrusting into my ex. That somehow ignited my jealousy, but I pushed that thought right back down. I was going to be the grown up.

Besides Pete was way hot. He was pulling off his suspenders and undoing his trousers. Turning around he shucked his pants and got into doggy position. I was very grateful at that moment that Pete's husband let him come into the city to play on occasion. And a little mad at myself for the idea I'd love to steal the guy away.

I got in place and started munching Pete's hole. Nice and clean, it seemed to suck my tongue in. It had been too long for him, too, I knew. I took my time, taking a pause now and then to admire his ass and to lube my dick up. But pretty soon, my cock ached to fuck. I crawled up onto Pete's body, feeling the heat between his shirt and mine as I pushed my dick into place.

"Please Bill," he hissed, at a volume only I could hear.

His hole was perfectly tight as I entered him. But the excitement was all of Pete. His perfectly meaty bod, his handsomeness, his clothes. How much he wanted me. Maybe I was going too hard and too fast but Pete bucked against me a couple of times to give me the green light. I took it. My humping got harder and faster as I kissed along his neck, smelling his cologne and feeling his shirt color against my cheek.

I was getting hot, too hot in my suit, but that also fed my lust. I shot, hard.

"Yes," Pete sighed, now pulling at his dick while I did my best to keep pushing in and other. Not as fast or urgent, but the slow stroke was probably better for his pleasure.

I felt the man get his orgasm beneath me, and I gave him another, final kiss of appreciation to the neck.

We uncoupled and enjoyed embracing and making out in our clothing. I was aware other guys were having fun around us, and a part of me wanted to show Ethan I could have some fun too.

Finally, Pete pulled back and gave a wistful smile. "I gotta get going." By now, some were leaving the party, and I'd lost track of time.

"Yeah," I said. I was hard again now, and my cock was sticking out. I wasn't usually good for getting off twice at one of these gatherings, but it had been a few days since I'd cum, and being with Pete had me amped up.

Pete reached down and grabbed my hardon, stroking it and admiring how it jutted out of my suit trousers. "Want me to take care of this before I go?"

I did, but I also wanted some more time to recharge. "Nah," I said. I leaned in and placed my mouth at his ear. "But fucking you was perfect," I whispered. "I missed being in you."

I felt his body shiver, and I felt bad. I was pushing the envelope and maybe enjoying doing that too much.

He pulled away. His own dick was firm and he did the work of tucking it in as he sat up in bed. He gave me a once over as he shook his head. "Great seeing you, Bill," he said.

I tried to apologize non verbally, patting his shirt-clad back. "I'll let you go," I said softly.

"Another kiss?" he asked.

I met him for just that.

When he finally left I was rock hard. George and one of the New Hires, Matt, were making out on the bed, caught up in their own connection. I thought of joining them, but didn't want to impose or be the third wheel.

Just then, I saw Ethan walk out of the bathroom, face flushed. He'd put his suit back on, suspenders and all, and retied his tie. He had a sheepish, shy look on his face, until he saw my boner jutting out and then he broke into a grin.

I couldn't help but laugh in response. We'd been trying to compartmentalize things, but here we were now, face to face, the sexual activity of the evening apparent.

Ethan's brown eyes met mine, searching for permission. I'm not sure if I gave it to him, or he was going to wait for it. He took a couple of steps forward and then crouched in front of me. My dick twitched as he did and Ethan took in the sight with a smile. I thought he was going to suck me right then and there but instead he scooted back and leaned down further. Kissing one shoe, then the other. I'd warn some brogued cordovan Aldens and Ethen sucked in the smell of the leather before licking.

"Fuck," he hissed, as he used his tie to wipe off the spit. I could sense how turned on he was to be able to indulge his shoe fetish. To my knowledge none of the Board members, at least the regulars, were into that. Ethan knew I wouldn't mind him having some shoe play, and would even get off on his horniness.

"Jesus, guys, you're getting kinky," I heard George say.

He and Matt were now lying back in bed, their clothes dishelved and their bodies clearly ih post-coital relaxation.

I saw Ethan flinch and blush. I gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and looked back up at the other guys. "It's something I've wanted to try," I lied.

George nodded. "Well, Matt here's big into wristwatches. Can't keep his eyes off this baby," he said, holding up his arm, sporting an expensive watch.

Matt blushed some, and I felt bad, like this should be the place where guys could just enjoy their kinks. I gave a reassuring smile. "I bet you'd like a wristwatch theme night, huh?" I asked Matt.

"Fuck yeah," he grinned. The guy was younger, maybe a few years older than Ethan, and cute. Professional gay guy who get to let loose some at these events.

My hardon had flagged by that point and Ethan had stood up. The spell was broken. "I'll probably get going," I announced as I tucked in and zipped up. I did my best to make myself presentable. I turned to Ethan. "You staying?"

It was a question laden with a lot of possibilities and I could Ethan trying to read me with his eyes. I reached behind him and tapped his suited ass. A quick gesture, but he knew I was up for fooling around.

Without missing a beat he turned to the other guys. "I think I'll head out too. It was a great Meeting, George," he said. "One of the best."

George grinned. He placed his arm around Matt. George was always after new meat and had a preference for younger guys. I had the feeling the two were going to enjoy the night together.

"Seriously, Matt," I said as I picked up my phone and slid it into my suit pocket. "We'll think about the watch idea. We haven't done that before." The guy gave a smile.

We bid good night, and Ethan and I walked silently to the elevators, smiles on our faces as we fed off our lust.

"What are we doing, Boss?" he asked. I could tell he was afraid to pose the question, but someone had to think with his head and not his dick.

The door opened and we got in. There were other people in, so Ethan and I rode down in baited breath, silent.

We were out on the street before I spoke. "If it's just fun, I'll deal with that," I said. "But I want to be your boyfriend, Ethan. For real."

That caught him off guard. "What about just now? With Pete?" he asked softly. I could tell he was as jealous to see me with Pete as I was with Tom. Maybe more.

"I don't know what to say," I said. "I mean, it was the Boardroom."

He shrugged. "You guys have a thing. Everyone knows it, Bill."

I thought about it. Thought about why I felt a connection to Ethan so soon after having sex with Pete. "It's only because Pete and I never actually dated. But say the word I won't so much as lay a hand on him."

I saw a smile form on Ethan's lips as he looked over at me. "You're serious, aren't you?"

I nodded, feeling vulnerable because I was overcome by how suddenly my revelation had hit me. I knew I'd suppressed a lot of my feelings for Ethan. "I was an asshole before. But I miss you Ethan."

His face got a real emotional seriousness. "Can I kiss you, Boss?"

I nodded. And right there in the middle of the sidewalk we kiss. Softly, just a little tongue.

"Damn," I said.

"Yeah," Ethan sighed. He ran his fingers along my lapel. I knew we'd go home and have some amazing suit sex, and that made the emotional part of this even more powerful. "You know, when you stood up for me earlier... for the shoe thing... that was kind of great."

I winked. "I like how you show me new things, stud." I patted his shoulder. "You wanna head to my place and have some shoe play?"

He shook his head. "How bout my place, Bill? You never come over there."

There was a reason for that. Ethan lived in a tiny walk up apartment. But it was time for me to give as well as take. "All right," I said.

***

Ethan's place was tidy but pretty fucking small. But there was no place I'd rather be at that moment. He lay on the floor on a yoga-workout mat, in his Brooks Brothers charcoal suit and striped shirt, paisley pocket square and wool tie, his hard dick sticking out of his crotch. I slowly, teasingly ran my shoe along his boner as he looked up at me hungrily.

"God, Bill," he hissed.

My own dick was out of my suit pants again, sticking out straight, but I wasn't doing anything with it. I was enjoying giving Ethan his jollies.

"You like that leather," I said. Half question, half comment.

"God yes," he said. "You think I'm messed up?" he half asked in return.

I shook my head. "Stud, if my shoes are what keeps you interested in me, that works for me."

He grunted as he watched me bend down to unlace my Aldens. "It's not like that," he objected.

I grinned and winked as I slid my shoe off. "If it is, that's OK, Ethan," I said. Then I knelt down, still fully in my suit and slid that cordovan Alden oxford over Ethan's erection.

"Shit," he gasped as his dick made contact with the interior leather.

I leaned in and kissed him, briefly. "This comfortable?" I asked as I slid it up and down.

He nodded. This was turning him on, a lot. "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing this," he said in a clipped voice.

"Do it," I instructed him.

Ethan's eyes grew wider as he met mine in silent sexual communication and his face grew redder. He was a cute and very hunky young man, and I was lucky I even had a chance with him. I was lucky that he was crushed out on me. And he only grew more handsome when he had his orgasm.

"UUUNNNMMMHFF!" he growled in release. Then falling back into a relaxed position, he broke into a smile. "Damn, that was incredible," he finally said.

I pulled off my shoe, trying not to overstimulate his prick. Normally, the first thing I'd be doing is cleaning it, but I not held it up and looked inside. Ethan had cum a lot and I could see his pearly seed drip down from the toe to the padded heel area. I shocked Ethan and shocked myself by bringing it closer, up to my face, and sticking my tongue in to taste his fresh seed.

"Fuck, Boss," he gasped. "No way am I going soft now," he said with a laugh.

I handed him my shoe. "Think this puppy will keep you turned on enough to let me fuck you?"

Ethan was younger than me and had more of a sexual stamina. But this was purely Ethan in overheated mode. He'd never had a man indulge his foot fetish like I was doing now. I watched as he excitedly reached down to undo his suspenders. I helped him take off his Allen Edmonds, plainer brown cap toes, then pull off his dark gray trousers. His dick was angry red and overstimulated but still hard.

"On the bed?" I asked. There was something fun and naughty about having sex on his bedroom floor, but I knew a mattress would be more comfortable than that thin mat.

We got up on the bed, and I met him for a kiss, deeper this time. I wasn't going to rush this, but I knew I had to be back inside Ethan, that evening. I'd be fucking on Tom Stephenson's sperm and god knows if anyone else's, but we could deal with that.

As Ethan wrapped his legs around my waist and I ran my cock around his hole, feeling the still slick traces of lube in his crack, I looked into his eyes.

"We'll figure out the Boardroom stuff, if you still wanna go," I said, a quiver in my voice. "But let me know what you need from me, Ethan."

He nodded, excited. "You, too, Bill." I could see in his face and hear in his voice the man's desire to be wanted. I hadn't given Ethan that before.

I pushed into him. His hole was relaxed and wet. And even if I was jealous of Tom Stephenson, I was glad for the extra lubrication. Ethan's hole felt nice and wet and snug against my thrusting prick, and the man was primed to take the urgency of my fuck.

I humped away, and Ethan looked up into my eyes and felt up my suit coat and tie. From the evening, I was sweating into my clothes and it would all need a good dry clean. It would be worth it.

"Faster, Boss," he urged. This wasn't about him, but rather his desire to see me get off.

I nodded to him, wordlessly communicating that I was close.

I had both hands on the bed, but I pulled one up to start feeling up Ethan's tie. He looked really fucking perfect in a repp tie. Clean-cut, masculine, like an athlete at an awards banquet or a small-town businessman.

I choked back my grunts but Ethan knew I was cumming hard. I powered my hips in and locked in place as I seeded him up. His words of encouragement as strong as the hands feeling up my suit.

I finally pulled out and let his legs to the side as I eased down on his suited body. We were maybe messed up that we needed to play dress up to have sex, but we were messed up together. This felt right.

I could even feel the guy's heart beat between our layers of clothing as his strong grip held me close.

"You're staying over the night, Bill," he said.

It was a bossy tone I'd only heard from him in the gym before.

"Yeah," I said. I pulled up and looked at him. His face was flush and his hair was a little mussed. "You ever slept in your suit?"

He seemed amused by the idea. "No. Have you?"

I shook my head no. "Might be fun, though... But maybe we can start with just shirt and tie."

Ethan was still hard, but after getting off a couple of times that evening he didn't seem eager to get off again. I watched him take off his coat and drop the undone suspenders. I slowly removed my suit, suspenders and trousers.

"Is this gonna mess up our ties?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said. "But at the worst we'll each have a play tie to add to the collection."

I let Ethan wash up first. "There's a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet," he offered when I stepped in. And once I was done in the bathroom, he had a glass of water to offer me.

"You sleepy?" he asked as we slid under the covers together, in our dress shirts and ties. I could feel his naked legs slip against mine and his genitals press against my crotch. This felt nice.

"Not really," I said. "Wanna stay up and talk?"

So that's what we did. We talked about dating and how it could work this time. What would need to be different, but what we missed about before.

"I don't want that easygoing part to go away, Bill," Ethan said. "Maybe things were too easygoing, but I like how you were my friend first."

"I still am," I assured him. "And you client," I winked. "You do good work."

He laughed. "Thanks. You needed to be whipped into shape," he quipped. It was bossy Ethan, and I knew it was a joke, but I still had to speak to the elephant in the room.

"Listen, I know you could find a guy with a much better body than mine."

He didn't miss a beat. "I want a body that looks great in a suit, Boss."

He didn't give me a chance to reply, he just leaned in for a kiss. I returned it and like that we were making out. It was about 1AM and I knew I didn't want this night to end. I felt Ethan's cock grow firm again against me and I loved the contrast between his hard nakeness and his clothed torso. Our shirts were now damp and our bodies warm.

Unbelievably, my own cock responded by firming up again.

"You wanting to get off?" I asked, running my hands over the bulging biceps in his shirt sleeves.

He thought for a second and shook his head. "Let's save it till morning, Bill."

"Sounds good," I said.

We kissed a little more and then got truly sleepy. As Ethan turned out the light, I realized I hadn't felt this giddy and excited in a long while.

#drakestories

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oblivious-idiot · 1 year

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Could you do a Lockwood x reader where he does little stuff for the reader without thinking? Like he buys her something he’d think she’d without a second thought and he doesn’t notice till George or Lucy comments about it. Thank you :) ❤️

Subconscious actions

AN: This was such a cute prompt, thank you! I hope you like it <3

Warnings: fluff, George is done with Lockwood being oblivious, Lockwood is a hopeless romantic <3

Word count: 1.3k

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Lockwood was one of those people who would do anything for others without even thinking about it. He was selfless to his core, almost to the point he would literally die for you and the rest of his team and wouldn’t think twice about the decision. But he was also selfless in aspects of doing things for others because of the fact he knew it would make them happy, and you were one of those people he loved to see smile.

Although Lockwood tended to be quite hard on himself and didn’t always let people in, he couldn’t help but soften up when you were around, he practically turned to butter when he saw you. The two of you had become pretty close over the last six months since you moved in to 35 Portland Road, but of course you could never say anything to one another about your feelings. George and Lucy knew of course, they weren’t that oblivious.

“I’ll make myself a cup of tea then” George grumbled as Lockwood left the kitchen with two cups of tea in hand - one for him and one for you. “Is he running around making teas again?” Lucy asked, no surprise in her voice at all “I swear that boy is so lovestruck it’s making me feel ill” she continued as she sat at the table, which made the two of them laugh. “Shall we tell him, that we know?” she asked “Lucy, do you think he even knows himself?” George said as he rolled his eyes “Lockwood’s so oblivious I think even the whole of Fittes and Deprac will know before he does”

"George! Come give me a hand with the shopping will you!" Lockwood called as he entered the house, arms ladened with carrier bags. George made his way down the stairs, cleaning his glasses as he went, before looking to Lockwood "please tell me you didn't blow the months budget again, or I'm going to have to stop you from going out by yourself." "Oh George, do you really have such low expectations of me? Besides, y/n gave me a list of all the things we were running out of" Lockwood flashed George one of his charming smiles before he heaved the bags down into the kitchen "That answers my question then" George grumbled as he followed Lockwood through the house.

The two boys slowly put away the groceries in a steady rhythm, being quite used to the job since living together for over a year. Whenever George came across something that they didn't usually buy he left it on the table, sure that Lockwood had a reason as to why he bought it. "So, are you going to tell me why you brought home half the stores chocolate selection, pastries, and some weird fancy tea" George asks, looking puzzled at the box of tea bags in his hand "What kind of tea has coconut in it anyways?" "Y/n said she was feeling homesick, I guess I thought they would make her feel better" Lockwood shrugged in response as if it was nothing to worry about.

This carried on for weeks, Lockwood never really thinking much more than how happy you always looked when he gave you something new, but you thought it was really sweet. You weren't sure if there was a reason why Lockwood was so keen on doing little stuff for you, you were sure that it wasn't because he liked you, so you never said anything incase it made things awkward. Surely he did this kind of thing for George and Lucy too right?

Walking home one morning from a case, dawn was breaking to reveal a soft blanket of mist lying over the park you were walking through. It was still early spring so there was a chill in the air "It's days like this where I wish I brought a coat on cases" you shuddered, your breath forming clouds in front of you "The sun will come over soon I imagine" George said as he checked his watch. Without even giving it a second thought, Lockwood shrugged off his coat and placed it over your shoulders "Lockwood, I-, you didn't have to" you gave him grateful smile, in which he flashed you one in return "I can't have one of my best agents shivering to death. Besides, I'm almost never cold, practically warm blooded" he said as he slid his hand into yours, his warm touch feeling like a furnace on your icy fingers. "You're human, Lockwood, of course you're warm blooded" George said as he rolled his eyes, but Lockwood simply batted away the comment with his spare hand.

When the team got back to the house, Lucy and George pulled Lockwood into the kitchen while you went upstairs to shower. "Jesus wept Lockwood, this is getting insufferable" George cried, in which Lockwood just gave him a confused look in return "I'm not sure I follow George..?" "We're talking about you and y/n, Lockwood. Have you even told her you like her yet?" Lucy said as she boiled the kettle. Lockwood gave an uneasy chuckle and his cheeks flushed red "I- no, I haven't. How did you even know?" "Oh Lockwood, you are one of the most oblivious people I know, for someone who's ego is so big" George said, shaking his head, "Oh come on, now that's not fair" Lockwood gave out a small laugh, but Lucy and George just gave him unimpressed looks in return.

With Lockwood now conscious of his actions, you noticed he was a little more distant. Less impromptu teas or purchases of your favourite snacks, you weren't sure if you had done something but you knew you needed answers. One evening when Lucy and George had gone to bed, you found Lockwood in his usual spot in the library reading his gossip magazines. You had brought in two cups of tea for the pair of you, which he thanked you without making eye contact. You sat in an armchair opposite him "Lockwood, what's the matter? Have I done something to upset you?" you questioned "No, no of course not! The very opposite I assure you y/n." "Then what's going on with you? You seem distant is all..." He took a long sip of tea, his ears turning a little pink "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be. I've just been dealing with some things is all" He finally answered and gave you a soft smile. You placed a hand on his knee and gave him a reassuring smile in return "You know you can tell me anything Lockwood, no judgement on my part." He couldn't meet your eyes - "I've really started to like you y/n... I guess I show that with all the things I do for you" he hesitantly answered. Even with the surprise confession, you couldn't help but laugh, which made Lockwood's eyes shoot up to meet yours "I'm sorry, I just never thought I'd see a flustered and shy Anthony Lockwood with my own eyes, you're always so confident" - you calmed your laughter and softly enclosed your fingers around his "I like you too Lockwood."

One you and Lockwood had gotten over the awkwardness, you finally went back to normal. Lockwood didn't stop doing little things for you, he actually started doing it more. He started subconsciously packing a jumper in your kit bag for cold nights or letting you borrow his coat without asking. Sometimes he'd bring you back books from the store or bunches or flowers he's see growing near the road - he was a hopeless romantic really, but he'd never been happier.

#allie writes #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x fem!reader #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co imagines #lucy carlyle #george karim #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwood #35 portland row

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bluiex · 1 year

Note

here’s the fluff i wanted to write! i went a little overboard on the ‘grian doing bird things’ because when i started searching up parrot courting rituals i learned they like to regurgitate into each other as one and just stared for a few seconds in shock, so obviously it wont be all of them but still quite a few!

this will be scarian centered but it started with some good old soup group i live poly soup group💜

—

“Hey, hey Scar!” Scar suddenly heard Impulse say speed walking towards him in the shopping district Gem in tow.

“Yyyes? What can I help you two with?” He asked drawing out the y with a smile turning to face the two people.

“We figured you’d be best to ask since your married to Grian and Grian is Pearl’s brother, can you explain her behavior right now?” Impulse asked as the two reached him looked sorta confused. Scar was a little taken aback by the question but quickly shook it off.

“Of course! What’s she doing?” Scar asked happily leaning on his cane a bit as he asked.

“Well… she’s been running around all morning asking us to get soft things like pillows ans blankets, along with things that smell like us? She’s also been preening a bunch and I think trying to preen us? We only left by saying we were grabbing some of our clothes to bring over,” Gem explained sounding perplexed as she spoke. One of her deer ears flicked and she tapped the toe of one of her hooves a bit.

“Oh no already? I didn’t realize it was time yet… I guess it came early this year,” Scar said in a slightly worried, slightly tired, slightly accepting tone sighing a bit.

“Should we be worried? What do you mean?” Impulse asked looking pretty worried and a bit alarmed. Gem looking more concerned then anything.

“Oh it’s nothing bad jus-“ Scar was suddenly cut off by a loud screech he recognized as Grian’s. He looked up alarmed confirming his suspicions seeing Grian soaring above heading towards them.

“I’ll explain over comms later! Don’t be alarmed if this happens don’t fight back just let her take you!” Scar quickly said before grubbing his cane tightly so he wouldn’t drop it as Grian flew down quickly grabbing Scar with his claws carrying him below him screeching happily.

“Hello to you too Grian…” Scar sighed out a small resigned smile on his face.

They finally arrived at Grian’s base flying over Mumbo’s as Grian started heading for the entrance Scar admiring the view. They flew in Grian coming to an abrupt stop that made Scar’s gut twist a bit as he leaned heavily on his cane taking a second to breathe.

“Geez! Okay, lets get this started,” Scar said turning to a very excited Grian with his wings out proudly making small coos.

“You did such a good job preening your wings, you’re such a pretty bird for me,” Scar said sweetly looking at the perfectly clean and bright feathers of Grian’s wings and tail. Grian beamed at the words making happy chirps wrapping his wings around Scar happily.

“Alright, you want to start on the nest now? I know you wont be able to speak for a while,” Scar suggested patting the top of Grian’s head where there was completely silky smooth and soft hair just like his wings. Grian trilled in agreement quickly running off to his nest room not even waiting for Scar.

Scar followed at a slower pace as he used his cane smiling softly at the tweeting bird hybrid that is his husband.

They reached the nest room where the floor had already been covered in soft blankets and rugs but the actual nest had yet to been made as scarlet macaw’s make the nest together.

For the next while they went around his base getting all the pillows, blankets, rugs, plushies, and soft things they could find and building a amazing nest to lay in. Scar added some of his clothes in as did Grian so it smelt like both of them and Grian put some important trinkets in it along with some of his best feathers from his most recent molt for spring. Finally content with the nest they made together Grian plopped down in it and started screeching at Scar to join him.

Scar chuckled carefully sitting down before tossing his cane to the side so it was still in the room but not in the actual nest. Grian then grabbed him by the shoulders and quickly pulled him down so they were cuddling. Scar rubbed his back and his head as he told him how good he was, how beautiful he was, and how he was such a good husband till they eventually both drifted off to sleep.

“Hmmp…” Grian said groggily as he felt something very lightly shaking his shoulder. He stirred awake in the room illuminated by some warm string lights to make it cozier. He opened his eyes fully and saw Scar softly smiling down at him.

“Morning sleepyhead, can you talk yet?” He asked gently as Grian stretched out a little bit yawning slightly. His brain was very satisfied with the nest him and his mate had made so it had quieted down for now as well as his mate still being there.

“Yeah… yeah I can talk right now my instincts are pretty settled for now,” Grian responded warmly as he woke up a bit more rearranging himself to be laying his head on Scar’s chest soaking up his familiar scent.

“That’s good, while you were asleep I brought in some water bottles and packaged food for when your instincts flair up and wont let you, me, or both of us leave the nest,” Scar informed stroking his arm. Scar had always been so sweet at making sure he was taken care of properly during his nesting season.

“Thank you love, your always so good to me, what did I do to deserve you?” He said snuggling himself into his chest further.

“Be the cutest pesky bird?” Scar said laughing making his chest rumble against Grian’s head in a familiar way.

“Nah, it was you refusing to wear clothes,” Grian shot back fondly making them both giggle.

“So since you seem to be yourself and not your instincts do you think you want it to be this year? We’ve been talking about having eggs for a while,” Scar asked shifting the conversation to a more important one but still keeping his soft tone.

“Do you want to?” Grian asked sincerely, he wanted to make sure it was Scar’s choice not just him wanting to please Grian.

“I would love to have kids, I’ve always wanted two or three and luckily your clutch size is just about there, so yes I want to have eggs with you if you do too,” Scar responded cradling Grian’s face to which he leaned into the warm and familiar touch.

“Yeah I want hatchlings too, you think you can handle me being in nest mode even longer?” He asked half teasing half not.

“I can handle you at your worst this will be a piece of cake!” Scar declared. “Well should I message Xisuma then? Make it official we’re going to try for a clutch?” Scar asked which Grian nodded to sincerely.

“I can’t wait to have eggs with you,” Grian said so full of love and devotion for the man he married.

—

i am very tired i shall sleep now, i also feel better which is very good since finals

have a good night bluie!

-🍞

AWWW OMMMGGG PRECIOUS

Them finally having a clutch together <333 lil baby Grian and Scar's running around... Waaah I love this sm loaf anon. Amazing job

#bluie gets an ask poggers #long post #ficlet #scarian ficlet

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chvndlr · 29 days

Text

task seventeen: spring forward

1. first things first: do you like spring?

Yeah, it's fine I guess. Not my favorite but I don't really have anything against it either.

2. what is your favorite thing about spring?

Look, my favorite season is winter. I like the cold. I like the snow. I like that nobody's trying to get me to hang out at the beach. But I gotta admit the sunshine and the warmer (but not hot) weather feel pretty good.

3. what is your least favorite thing about spring?

I'm gonna be real with you. I fucking hate summer. Spring means we're that much closer to it and that I have another, like, six months before it starts to cool down again.

4. do you have a vegetable / produce / fruit garden?

No. I've thought about starting one, it'd be way better for my cooking than being at the mercy of whatever's in stores. But it's a lot of work and I don't think I've ever kept a plant alive in my life.

5. how about flower beds, or things planted in the house?

My house gives off a certain vibe. That vibe says "I'm 22 and I've never lived anywhere but a college dorm" which, despite not being factually true, feels accurate. Learning how to not kill a houseplant would really go against that aesthetic.

6. regardless of what you do or do not plant, are you good at growing plants? have a green thumb?

I think I've done a very good job explaining I'm fucking terrible at growing shit.

7. what’s your favorite flower or plant?

They're all pretty much the same....(Don't tell Nari I said that)

8. what’s your favorite scent that you associate with spring?

Floral scents. But not like real flowers, like candles.

9. is there a sound that you associate with spring time?

I guess birds chirping? You don't hear them much all winter, cause most of them leave and come back, so when you start to hear them a lot it really feels like spring

10. do you prefer sunny mornings or rainy afternoons?

Rainy afternoons. I'm not usually up early enough in the mornings to be happy about the sunlight coming into my house.

11. favorite thing to do on a sunny, warm spring day?

Take Jenna on a walk

12. favorite thing to do on a rainy, chilly spring day?

Stay inside and invite a friend over to play video games all day

13. do you celebrate Easter? any traditions you follow for it?

Eh, not really. My family was never big into holidays, so they were never a big deal to me as an adult either. No traditions or anything. And it's not really a holiday people get together and party for like Halloween or St. Patrick's Day

14. regardless of if you do or don’t: favorite Easter candy?

Anything chocolate-peanut butter. So Reece's I guess?

15. what other springtime holidays do you observe?

Are there even other spring time holidays? Other than St. Patrick's Day, I mean. Like who the fuck is out here celebrating Memorial Day?

16. favorite place in Merrock to visit in the springtime?

I've been here a couple years but I don't know. Pine Grove Gardens make for good photos in the spring, so I guess we'll go with that.

17. the spring bugs are coming out: do you rescue them and let them out of the house, or grab the nearest shoe?

Shoe. I don't need them getting back in the house the way they came in and fucking up any fruit that's on the counter.

18. are you a big spring cleaner?

Yeah. I didn't come to Merrock with much stuff, so I don't have much to declutter yet. But I am big into making sure every room is deep cleaned at least twice a year - in the spring and in the fall.

19. do you switch over your wardrobe from cold weather to warm weather clothes?

I saw a meme about switching from your winter blacks to your summer blacks, which sums up how I feel. I mostly wear jeans and tshirts year round, so all I really do is put my thicker jackets away for a few months.

20. how about the house: does your decor change for the spring season? do you rearrange furniture?

Yeah, I tend to switch out my decor every few months so it doesn't feel boring. It's been awhile since I rearranged furniture though. I like where it's at now.

21. what color makes you think ’spring’?

Pastels, right? Isn't that the big thing every year? The easter bunny is usually made in pastels, I notice a lot more pastel clothing when I'm doing photoshoots too

22. describe your perfect spring outfit:

Same thing I wear every day. I don't really think about my clothes unless I need to dress up more. And even then, I just make sure I look nice enough without putting a whole lot of energy into it. most adorable looking baby animal that you ever did see?

23. what’s a drink that makes you think of spring?

Mint julep. Couldn't explain the connection to you, but I seem to have them more in the spring than any other time of year

24. how about a snack?

Easy, peeps.

#merrocktask

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teribst · 10 months

Text

Camping

A STORY BY

MIKE

I was 11 when my alcoholic dad was coming home from a bar one night and drove his pickup truck into a tree.

We were standing at the grave sight and mom was holding my hand as we stood watching them lowering his casket when my 29-year-old Mom said very softly, “You always were a stupid fuck.”

It was the first time I had heard her say anything bad about Dad and also the first time I had heard her curse.

Over the next few weeks, it was hard to tell if she was grieving or pissed off at him, and in my mind it seems there was a lot for her to do. She had to get paperwork for this, and paperwork for that. Then there was his life insurance that had to pay because somehow his blood test came back with no drugs in it, and a very small amount of alcohol.

Dad's brother might have had something to do with that, and he also offered to buy out Dad's half of their construction company at way more than a fair price. It would be a few years later before I found out that between the insurance and Uncle Billy buying the company, Mom wasn't really rich but close enough that she would never have to work again.

When dad died mom was already an author and had sold a few books, but now she had time to write with no one bitching about how she was wasting her time. She taught Sunday school and was very active in doing a lot of things with the women of the church.

I guess the other thing I loved about Mom was how she dressed. She is 5’ 3” with dirty blond hair and a cover girl beautiful face. I don’t ever remember seeing her in anything other than a button-down dress that was belted at the waist. And while not being too tight the bodice if her dresses all fit her well enough even a blind man could see she had a nice full chest.

She even wore her older dresses around the house and she was alway bare legged. But only at home if we went someplace she would alway wear pantyhose. She also always wore lace-up boots with a 2 inch heel. They always reminded me of what a witch would wear. Her hair was always pulled up in a bun on the back of her head and while she wore makeup it was always very light.

It was just over a year after Dad died that I heard her humming to herself and I realized she was happy, and because she was so was I.

As for me, I did my chores keeping our 2 acres of land mowed, everything painted and cleaned as well as keeping everything all fixed and working. I guess I felt like if I was the man of the house I ought to act like one, and I could tell by some of the things Mom said along the way she knew what I was doing.

Not long before he died Dad had bought a new 14-foot pop-up tent camp trailer and it had never gotten used. Hell as far as I knew it hadn’t even ever been opened. I had read online about what the trailer needed in the way of upkeep and found that because it was basically new it mostly needed to be kept clean and moved around on its tires. I wasn’t old enough for a driver's license but drove around our place teaching myself how to move the trash trailer and other things around with our small Kubota tractor. It was early spring when I brought moms truck around to the barn the camper was kept in and hooked up to it. My plan was to pull it out, give it a bath and make sure when I put it back the tires were sitting in a different spot.

I had just hooked the car wash brush up to the water hose when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

Now at this point let me say, I’m not stupid. I knew my mom was a beautiful woman, I mean, after all, I’m a guy so yes of course I had looked. Um…now where was I?

Oh yes, mom was standing just in the shade of the lean-to carport roof watching me. Her arms were folded over her tummy like she was cold even though where she was standing in the shade it was about 85 degrees. She didn’t often wear a slip when around the house and the way she was standing the sun showed right through her dress doing a very good job of highlighting her legs. “HI.” I smiled.

Her eyes met mine and without moving she asked, “What are you doing?”

“I read online how to take care of it. So I was getting it all cleaned up.” I frowned, “Am I doing something wrong?” I couldn’t seem to stop looking at how the sun was showing off her legs.

“I was just thinking the other day about selling it.”

I let my eyes run up over her, “And I was just thinking the other day we should use it.”

She moved a little letting her right foot come straight to the side out and kind of rocked her foot on the heel of her shoe, “And when would we do that?” the move of her sticking her leg out as she had pulled the skirt part of her dress tight, and thank you MR. Sun for doing a really good job of shining through it.

I shrugged, “I don’t know. It has everything in it that we have at home, and I know you like to fish. Or you told me that you did a very long time ago.”

I really was trying to hide it but I wasn’t sure if she knew I was looking or not. “I thought maybe we could try it out. In fact, I think we should try it and if you don’t like it then we could sell it.”

That day was the first time I had really looked at her more as the woman she was and less thinking of her as Mom, but it wasn’t the last. In fact, I started thinking of reasons to get her outside or wherever I could to get a good look at her legs as light was highlighting through her dress.

A couple of days later while eating dinner I smiled. “I made a reservation at a place called Lake Sam Rayburn. According to Google Maps, it’s about a 3-hour drive from here.”

I saw just a hint of a smile as the corner of her lips turned up, “And when are we taking this trip and how long do you plan on us staying?”

“Well tomorrow is Monday so I thought we could get everything loaded up and take off early Tuesday morning and come back on Friday. They have WIFI there so you could bring your laptop and work if you wanted to.” I smiled, “I dug the ice chests out of the back of the shade and washed them all up.” I shrugged, “And I guess we can go to a HEB along the way.”

She smiled, “You have this pretty well worked out don’t you?”

“Well yes, I guess I think it’s time we had some fun.”

Mom was up when I walked into the kitchen. It was just before 5 am, and her smile made my heart beat speed up a little, “Good morning honey. I thought we could stop in Rockdale and get some donuts.”

30 minutes later she had a bear claw with chocolate milk, I had a glazed twist with white milk, and neither of us spoke for aways, “You know if I didn’t see it back there in my mirrors I would never know I was pulling a trailer.”

I smiled, “That's good. I went through everything I read making sure it all worked so it should pull perfectly.”

We were both quiet for a while then I saw it as she gave me a sideways look, then out of nowhere, “KC honey you're almost 14 and you never talk about girls. Um, it’s ok if you are, but are you gay?”

I choked on my donut and when I quit gasping for air I said incredulously, “NO! No mother I’m not gay.” I looked at her in the early morning light seeing how the rising sun glinted and shined through her blond hair. “I’m sorry for yelling. But no, I just well, there is somebody.”

Putting the shoe on the other foot I asked, "I don't think you are, but are you seeing anyone?”

She looked away from the road at me, “There has been only one man in my life since your dad, and that is you.”

I smiled, “That’s good. I like being your man.” My eyes were drawn to her legs and how because they were spread in a comfortable way her dress had sort of pulled tight. So tight it had pulled open between the buttons just above mid-thigh. What little skin I could see was paperwhite, and not for the first time in the last few days I felt myself lengthen in my swim trunks.

To get my mind off of it I got her talking about the storyline of her next book. She was telling me about some kind of trouble between a couple on an airplane when she stopped saying, “My publisher wants more sex in my stories. He says, and of course he’s right, that sex sells books. But I don’t know, I kind of think my thoughts on sex might make the stories become too personal.” She shrugged, “I don’t know what to do.”

The subject changed because by this time we were only a few miles from the Twin Dams park and we were using the GPS to guide us to the place it came on saying, “Your destination will be 1 mile on the right.” One side of the dam was a state park and the other was called the Marina at the Dam, and that's where we were going to set up our camp. We pulled up to the marin store and park office to check in. Once inside and the paperwork signed, the park manager said because it was the middle of the week and no other campers were around we could take our pick of whatever camp spot we wanted. I watched his eyes run over mom's chest as he said he said he would mark it in his book later.

Back in the truck we drove slowly through the park to a camping spot that had a big Texas Oak next to it making the space primarily covered in shade all day. We pulled up and Mom stopped the truck looking at the concrete slab that was there to put the trailer on, “I thought I did good driving us down here, but honey there is no way in hell that I could ever back the trailer in there.”

That was the second time I had ever heard her say a curse word.

“I got it.” And I got out walking around to her window as she sat and frowned at me. I chuckled, “It’s really easy. First off we are the only ones here so there is no rush. Just relax, we got 3 days to do this. Ok.”

“Yes, I guess. But how do you know about this?”

“From moving things around on the tractor at home. Now as you're doing this don’t look back through the window or the center mirror. You only look at your side mirrors and that's because you can see the corners of the trailer. That's what will hit something first.”

The corner of her lips turned up just slightly. “Got it, don't look back.”

“Ok so now put your hand on the bottom of the steering wheel and as you slowly back up simply move that hand the way you want the trailer to go. And don’t make big corrections. A little turn here can be a big turn back there.” I smiled at her, “Ready?”

“I think so.”

I looked back “Look back in your mirror and tell me what you see?”

“Just road.”

“Ok between the truck and the trailer you're about 30 feet long, so pull up far enough you think the trailer will have room to turn. I walked next to the truck with my hand on the door as she slowly moved forward.

“This looks good to me.”

“Yes, I think so too. Start back turning slowly so the trailer turns and as it does the truck will simply follow it back. Look out your window.” I pointed “Pick a kind of target spot. You will see that gray box come into your mirror as the trailer turns into its space. Keep the gray box in your mirror and back up right next to it.”

I stood with my hand on the finder in front of her mirror watching and letting her make her own corrections as she backed the trailer in. It only took her pulling forward 3 times and she had us setting perfectly.

“That my girl and you did an excellent job!” She was grinning as she got out of the truck and I gave her a HIGH 5.

I got the truck loose from the trailer and after pulling it up out of the way a little I went about leveling the trailer. When I thought I had it all sturdy and safe I got out the hand book. “Honey, having never opened the top of the tent part of the trailer,” I handed Mom the owner's manual. “Your job, miss. I can back up a trailer and look beautiful doing it is to sit your bottom on top of that picnic table and read each step to me while I get this thing set up.”

“Honey is it?” She chuckled, “I'm sure if I can back that thing up I can read this book.”

It wasn’t hard but not knowing what I was doing made it slow and it was just about an hour after I started I flipped the switch on making the AC come to life.

“What are you doing?

“I’m hungry. That donut ran out of gas about 3 hours ago so I was going to make us dinner.”

She frowned just a little. “And what are we going to have?”

I had the fire set and was putting the cooking great over it.“Fire grilled steak and pan-fried potatoes.”

There was a slight smile, “And what can I do to help you, chef?”

“Nothing, I got this. I want you to just do your job.”

“And what would that job be?

“Just sit there, be beautiful, while you talk to me about putting sex into your book.”

Changing the subject she said, “I want to help.” She smiled at me, “Should I set the table inside or would you like to eat out here?”

“Less bug’s inside.”

As we were eating I smiled, “I have questions?”

“Alright, maybe I have answers.”

“Ok, you have to promise to not get pissed off or take offense to anything.”

She frowned, “Alright as long as you watch your language.”

The stake was cut with a fork tender and I took a bite, “Why is it you only wear dresses?”

“It makes me feel girly. When I was little I had to wear a lot of my brother's hand-me-down shirts and pants. So I told myself when I was old enough to buy my own clothes I would always wear a dress.” She frowned, “Do you think I look bad?”

“No, god no not at all, but,” I looked into her eyes and said, “But you're only 32, and sometimes you can look, um a little maternally.”

Her fork stopped about halfway to her mouth. “You mean I dress like an old lady?” her voice came up a little, “How would you have me dress? I could walk around with my ass hanging out like some of the moms I see dropping their kids off at your school.” She laid her fork down “That's what your dad always wanted, he wanted me walking around looking whorish.” She looked at me, her voice going hard, “Is that what you want me to do?”

I pulled back looking at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”

After a couple of moments she shook her head, “No, I’m sorry, it’s me and that wasn’t fair to you. I dress, well it’s what I wear underneath, that's what I wear for me.” She looked up at the moon. “It's late, am I in the left or right bed?”

“You can take the right, it's a king so you’ll have plenty of room.” I stood up, “Come over here and I’ll show you how to flush the potty.” There was a half wall around the toilet with the space also working as a stand up shower

“How do you know?”

I laughed “I read the directions. Um and let's try not to poop in it. We aren’t that far from the public toilets.”

“Ok.”

I made sure the fire was out and cleaned things up so it was probably a half hour before I went in. There was a small 12-volt night light hanging over the small kitchen counter and thinking she was but not sure she was asleep I turned my back to her. I didn't care if she saw that I was sleeping nude but for some reason I felt a little shy as I slipped off my shorts and slipped naked up onto my bed.

She very softly said, “I guess I could be that woman if you want.”

I waited for a beat, and not knowing if it was that we couldn’t see each other in the dark or whatever it was, I started talking. “Um…The other day when you came out and talked to me about the trailer and this trip the way the sun was shining I could clearly see the outline of your legs through your dress. I loved the sexiness of it.

I also love how you dress when we are out where people know you. I like the Sunday school teacher vibe you give off.”

“So you're saying you don’t want me to look like a hooker in public?”

I rolled onto my side looking back into the darkness at the other end of the trailer. “No, no I don’t. But you said you like sexy things underneath, like what?”

“Fancy lacy stuff, thong panties, or no panties if I'm wearing pantyhose or sometimes I just go out not wearing any panties at all. I love walking around knowing people are seeing one me when in real life I am quite another me altogether.”

See that’s what I’m talking about, you being you. U’m, a, mom it would be ok with me if you were just you, I mean, the you that you want to be at home. Or like out here where no one knows us, but us.”

“So you're saying what?”

“I'm saying I’m sure that at home if you want to run around in your pretty things or your pantyhose without panties or even nude I would be ok with it, if I’m being honest I’m quite sure I would like it.”

“Sometimes when I know you're going to be gone for most of the day I lay out in the sun nude.”

I smiled, “Well after this conversation maybe we should both rethink our lifestyle at home and in public.” She was quiet and then I heard a soft snoring sound and knew she had fallen asleep.

It was just before daylight when I heard the little toilet flush, “You ok?”

“Yes, I just had to pee. Sorry, I woke you.” I felt the bed move, “Can I come up here with you?”

“I don’t care but mom, I sleep naked.”

“It’s ok. I, a, well I do too.” She slipped up onto the bed with me sliding under the sheet, “Sorry I fell asleep last night.”

“We had a long day.”

“Yes we did, and so many new discoveries.” The bed moved and in the dim morning light, I saw her slip under the sheet and turn on her side to face me. “Did you mean it when you said I should just relax and be me when it's just us?”

“Yes I did, it’s just like now. No one in the whole of the universe knows we are laying here nude with each other and it’s no one's business but ours.”

“Honey incest is against the law, and…”

“Being nude together isn’t incestual. You nor I have touched in any way to have broken any law.” her hand was on top of the sheet and I put mine on it

“Our place is the only house at the end of a long dirt road and there is nothing around us for a very long way in any direction but fields. So if we run around in or out of our clothes, who's to know.” I shrugged. “It’s all up to you, and I want you to do whatever you want to.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek, “I’ll be happy with whatever you decide to do.” I reached behind me and started opening the nightshade on the window.

“Wait! Someone will see in!”

I smiled at her as she sat up holding the sheet over her breasts, “You must not have noticed how dark the plastic windows are tinted. They might see it at night with a light on but not in the daylight, not even a little bit.” I pushed the sheet to the side and slipped down off the bed.

“Are you sure?”

I smiled “Yes.” moving through the trailer opening the other nightshades letting the little room be filled with light.

“Are you going to look away when I get up and put my clothes on?”

I chuckled, “Did you look away as I opened the shades?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not going, that’s not unless you tell me to.”

“Have you ever seen me?”

“Not since the last time we showered together. We were going to be late for church and I was what? Maybe 6.” I turned to face her and watched her eyebrows go up as she openly looked at me with my morning hard. I’m not small by any means of the word and her eyes lingered on it for just a moment. She hadn’t seen me nude since that shower either.

She pulled the sheet back and watched me looking at her as she slipped to the edge of the bed. Her full breasts swayed on her chest as she moved and I watched her already hard light pink nipples pucker up even tighter.

As she put her legs out in front of her and slid down I was a little taken aback by the thickness of her full blonde pelt. I must have had a funny look on my face because she frowned at me, “Is it that bad?”

“Um what…oh no! You’re very beautiful and I don’t know why I thought so, but I thought you would be shaved.” I kind of pointed, “Can you tuck all of that into a swimsuit?”

The frown deepened, “I hadn’t thought about it, and I don’t own a bathing suit.” She moved past me to the other bed, picked up her dress and with her back to me slipped it on over her head, and while her dress was in no way see-through it was plain to see she was braless.

She became pretty quiet as I cooked us bacon and eggs with pan-fried toast. One the trailer's little cook top. She had set the table and then watched as I cooked, “I didn’t know you could cook.”

I didn’t look at her saying, “Just because we live together and see each other every day doesn't mean we know much about each other.”

“Ok like what?”

“Well, you didn’t know I have been taking classes online and will graduate this year.” I sat her food on the table and got my plate,” And you didn’t know that instead of going to school every day I have been working at Ben's camera shop for over a year.”

“You know you don’t have to work. I can,” I held up my hand stopping her.

“Yes, I know. But I’m really into photography, and Ben trades me labor for stuff.” Again she drew into herself and after I had cleaned up some, I took her hand, “Come on. The park map says there is a waterfall back around the point. Let's go look at it.

By this time it was almost midday and getting hot. It took about 20 minutes to get back to where the waterfall was and when we saw it I burst out laughing. I guess in the spring it would be a waterfall alright but now it was just a trickle of water going over it.

She was smiling, “Well at least it was a nice walk.” She pointed to a rocky gravely place leading down into the water. “Maybe we could walk down and at least get our feet wet and cool off a little.”

“That sounds good to me.”

At the water's edge, she slipped off her sandals that I had never seen her wear before and waded out into the water. She was holding her dress up to about mid-thigh and walking slowly so as to not hurt her feet on the rocks. “The water isn’t freezing but it’s,” She turned to look back at me and as she did the rock she was on moved.. Mom's arms went out and she cried out “AAA!” as she fell back going completely under water. Sputtering she quickly sat up and wiped water and hair from her flushed face. “Shit!”

I smiled at the 3rd time she had cussed in front of me as I rushed out into the water and her. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she started to laugh, “I’m fine.” She swished the water around with her hands, “I bet I have a bruised butt though.” Still smiling “Let me catch my breath a minute and we can head back.” It turned into a few minutes of her looking around, mostly at me, then she held out her hand, “Help me?”

And as she stood up with my help her wet dress clung to her like a second skin. She kind of looked down at herself and saw that while she wasn’t really exposed at all she was definitely showing off. Her gaze came up to mine for a moment and then starting one button below her very hair crotch began to unbutton her dress all the way down to its hem. She smiled, “I don’t think it will be so clingy and hard to walk in this way.”

“No, I think you're right and I get to look at those beautiful legs.” She punched me lightly in the arm.

Back at the trailer, Mom went inside and a moment later came to the door in her panties. “Do you have a T-shirt I can wear?”

I smiled at how her bush poked out the leg opening of her panties, “Yes I’ll get you something.”

I went in and got her a shirt to put on along with the scissors out of the first aid kit at the same time. I pointed to the bed. “We have to trim that thing up. It looks, well not good with the hair sticking out everywhere. Take your panties off and lay back on the bed.”

She was giving me that frown again but pushed her panties down letting them puddle on the floor. I put the towel she had dried off with on the bed and she got up to her knees leaving her legs dangling over the side, her feet still a foot off the floor. I acted like I knew what I was doing as I pushed her legs open fully seeing her open sex for the first time. “I’m just going to lay the scissors flat and clean you up.”

It was very weak, “ok.”

I only knew what I had read and seen on the web so I was using one hand to work the scissors and the other to make sure I didn’t catch any skin. I tried to keep my touch tender as I clipped her pubic mound and then worked down the inside of her right thigh. She smelled so good. I had never been so intoxicated by anything as I was her scent. I clipped using my thumb and forefinger to open her girl's lips and found her to be leaking wet. I ran my thumb through it several times as I started up her left lips. Then I bumped her clit and she moaned, “Ohammm.” I did it again and her hips came up a little, and to this day I don’t know why I did it but I leaned in and licked her from her ass hole up to and over her clit. ��OHhgod.”

Acting on instinct I pulled her clit up with my lips sucking it and flicking it with my tongue and she began to mutter, “Ohye oh god oh god ye yes, oh shit baby yes summaaaaa”

I stayed with her until her cum slowed then I moved up over her, “Don’t cum in me.” I slid as deeply into her belly as I could and held still enjoying her heat.

“I won’t last, it's just too much. I want it so badly.”

“Here, pull it out.” as I did she moved around on the bed taking me in her hand. As her eyes met mine she smiled, “I know it's going to be quick, but next time will take longer.” She slipped the tip of my cock into her mouth.

“Oh shit yes.” She took me deep into her throat and swallowed a few times, “I’m I can’t .” It had been her warning and she didn’t back away. She looked up at me with those clear blue eyes and as I growled “OH GOD!” she took the tip like it was a straw and sucked every bit of my life out of me.

As we held each other she moved to her side resting her breast on my chest, “I bet that little store we passed a few miles back carries condoms.”

7 notes · View notes

galaxxies18 · 1 year

Text

「Confined Crimson」 — Rindou

Nooo don't look at me translating this card even tho I just got it yesterday literally at a clutch as the event was about to end haha you're so sexy-

-pt. 1-

Rindou

MC-san.

Good morning.

Rindou-san. Good morning to you as well.

Rindou

It's still fairly early in the morning.

Are you perhaps on your way to the hot springs?

Yes can we go together for uh- educational purposes (　・ω・)

Yes, that's the reason why I woke up early.

Is Rindou-san also heading to the hot springs?

Rindou

No, I'm on my way to work.

So many leaves have fallen overnight, I have to quickly finish sweeping up before any of the customers arrive.

That's quite troublesome...

Thank you for your hard work, even so early in the morning.

Rindou

Thank you. However, this isn't really a difficult task, isn't it?

I slept well last night, so I'm feeling better than ever.

It's quiet and comfortable here. It's a very nice inn.

Exactly.

The food is delicious as well, I'm glad you were able to come.

Rindou

It's a good thing I came, huh...

...Rindou-san..?

Rindou

Apologies. It's just, if I'm being honest, I'm a bit worried.

It's just, whenever I go somewhere far from the usual hussle and bustle of things, I can't help but worry for my older sister.

My sister is still hospitalized in a small hospital room...

Even though I am working part time here, I am still relaxing at such a nice inn.

Whenever I think about it, I feel so sorry for her...

I can't help but feel like this...

You think of your family often, don't you Rindou-san?

Rindou

It's just, back in the day my family would always go on trips like these.

I've stayed at an inn similar to this many times before, so I guess it just reminds me of my older sister.

...That's it.

When my sister gets better, maybe we could all go on a family trip again, just like we used to.

That would surely be nice.

I'm sure she would enjoy it as well.

Rindou

Fufu, I hope so as well.

-pt. 2-

I'm so full from lunch, maybe I'll go around for a walk...

Rindou

Oh, MC-san.

We meet again.

Oh, Rindou-san?

You're still holding on to the broom.

Could it be, you've been sweeping since the morning?

Rindou

Huh?

Fufu, that's not it.

Rindou

The morning sweeping has already been taken care of.

However, when I went outside earlier, there were leaves piled up again.

It was quite windy in the morning, so I'm guessing more leaves fell off.

So I decided to clean them up again.

Is that so.

Rindou

Look, the road leading to the inn is covered in leaves, is it not?

At this rate, guests hoping to check-in in the afternoon are likely to get lost.

That's true.

(He's always so thoughtful...as expected of Rindou-san.)

Rindou

Even so, it's an amazing sight to behold the fall foilage. Everywhere you see is covered in red.

I agree.

Rindou

The leaves up here in the mountains is an even brighter red, I think.

These autumn leaves are even more beautiful.

You can't help but think they're more than just some simple fallen leaves.

Rindou

To commemorate this, when we go back I'll have a leaf pressed and use it as a bookmark.

If I give it to ger as a present, my sister may forgive me for staying at this wonderful inn.

That's a good idea.

Rindou

I'll collect a few more, in case I mess up.

Yes, actually...if I do it well, I'd like to gift one to you as well, MC-san.

Thank you for listening to me.

Thank you.

I look forward to it.

— END —

#Thank you to somewhere-in-the-office for letting me it looked fine even tho i djd it on mobile last time :')#bECAUSE GUESS WHAT IM ON MOBILE AGAIN #blackstar theater starless #bsts #; galaxxi's translations.#blackstar theatre starless #blackstar: theater starless #blst #blst translation #bsts rindou #Onsen 2022 #everytime they remind me rindou is a pathetic meow meow who's also a family man I sweat nervously

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thiswasinevitableid · 1 year

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15 sternclay?

Here you go!

15. As a career-oriented city-dweller who’s also a fan of Hallmark Christmas movies, Christmastime has me trying and failing not to worry that my new partner is going to leave me when they go home for the holidays

His eight years with the FBI lead to a lot of strange coping mechanisms. One of the few Joseph still indulges in is watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies from Thanksgiving until New Years.

He never sits down to watch them these days. Instead, they form the background noise of his early winter, and he cleans his apartment or sends work emails while people with white smiles and no chemistry fall in love in a matter of days. He even makes up a mental bingo for himself, including things like “someone drinks hot chocolate,” “an ugly sweater is worn,” and, “behavior that makes me think of serial killers is treated as charming.”

This viewing habit is also the reason he’s trying not to panic when Melanie, his girlfriend of six months, tells him she’s going back to her hometown in two days and will be there until after Christmas to help get her great-aunts flower farm up and running again.

“I thought about asking you to come, but I know how busy you are with work.”

“Most of mine can be done from a laptop, and I’d be happy to come help you out, even if it’s only for some of the time.”

She shakes her head, “Apparently Snowfall Springs is in the National Radio Quiet Zone; no phone signals, and all the internet is, um, ethernet.”

“Oh.” Joseph manages a smile, “well, in that case, I guess we romance each other the old fashioned way. On landlines.”

Melanie nods, but her nose is quirking the way it always does when she thinks he got too corny. He knows she’s into Joseph Stern, former special agent, suave and confident and battle-scarred. But Joseph Stern, aspiring writer and cryptozoology fanatic who cleans his kitchen to decompress does not seem to rate as highly.

When she kisses him goodnight and heads to her car, she promises she’ll call him tomorrow once she reaches Snowfall Springs. Joseph tells himself it’ll be fine. Life isn’t a movie. People don’t undergo a series of holiday hi-jinks and then fall in love with some guy who wears flannel because the boyfriend they left at home is a prissy workaholic who doesn’t understand the true magic of Christmas.

(She doesn’t understand why he doesn’t have a Christmas tree. After all, a friend of hers growing up had one even though she was Jewish, why can’t he?)

Melanie calls him the next afternoon to say the house by the farm is in disrepair and she’ll be staying at the neighboring mint farm for most of her stay, which happens to be the home of the guy who spilled his hot drink on her this morning.

Joseph hangs up the phone, types out a message to work, and pulls his ergonomic suitcase out of the closet.

Snowfall Springs is only an hour and a half away, but being tucked away in the mountains means a lot of curving roads that have to be carefully navigated. As the wipers whack the snow from the windshield, Joseph reassures himself that this is the right thing to do, not because he’s about to get dumped, but because his girlfriend has just learned this project is going to be even bigger and more stressful than anticipated and he should be there to support her.

When his headlights hit the sign for Excitemint Farms, he turns up short, country road and pulls in front of a house decorated in enough Christmas lights to be seen from space. His knock summons an older woman in a nativity sweater.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Melanie? She said she was staying here when she called. Unless this is the wrong mint farm, in which case I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Joseph?” his girlfriend appears in the doorway, smiling, “ohmygod, what are you doing here?”

“I came to help out. From the sound of it your great-aunt’s place is in serious disrepair, and I thought if nothing else I could make sure you’ve got coffee while you sort it out or deal with any extra-obtuse paperwork for contractors.”

“Oh. That’s really sweet of you.” She leans out the door and pecks him on the cheek, which would be nice except he lost feeling in it two minutes ago.

“C-could I come in? I only brought one bag” he turns his best special agent smile on the older woman, “and Melanie can confirm I’ll do any chore under the sun.”

His girlfriend shifts from foot to foot, “Um, there’s only one spare room and it’s not even a twin bed. I just don’t think you’d be comfy if we both squeezed in there. But there’s probably somewhere in town? Hank, where’s a good place to stay?”

“He could try Amnesty Lodge. It’s a little, uh, quirky, but lots of folks stay there.” Hank appears in the doorway. He’s a little shorter than Joseph, blonde with a face that screams all-american charm but is so standard issue that Joseph couldn’t pick him out of line-up.

“Okay. I’ll try there. Thank you. Um, Melanie, give me a call at the Lodge when you know what the gameplan is for tomorrow?”

“Uh huh.” She laughs as a golden retriever nudges her, “Oh Donald, no more treats for you.”

Joseph gives them all a polite wave goodnight and spends his drive to Amnesty Lodge reassuring himself that just because Hank looks like every guy who used to pull their eyes into slanted shapes when he walked by in high school doesn’t mean he’s a bad person, let alone that Melanie will decide to leave Joseph for him.

Amnesty Lodge is undecorated save for a string of rainbow lights around the front, double doors. A young woman with a black and orange up-do and a sweater reading “hex the patriarchy” checks him in, pausing halfway through to shoo a massive, white rabbit away from the computer cables.

“Here you go! It’s just down that hall. Springs are open 7 am to 9 pm–Dr. Harris Bonkers, don’t you dare jump up there–and the restaurant is open six to nine.”

The wooden clock above the fireplace informs him it’s 8:50.

“How mad would the staff be if I tried to get in there now?”

“Worth a try. Barclay is closing tonight and he’s a big softie.” She gives him a conspiratorial wink, “but you didn’t hear that from me.”

He thanks her and wheels his bag across the worn, diamond patterned carpet until he reaches the restaurant. It’s empty except for a man behind the counter, wiping down the flattops with half the lights off.

“Excuse me? I, is there any chance of getting something to go?”

The man glances over his shoulder, “I could pack you up a few things, but do me a favor and throw that bolt once you get in here.”

Joseph locks the door as instructed and moves to the counter, sitting down just as the man tosses a towel over his shoulder and turns to regard him.

Okay, things could be worse. Melanie could be staying with this guy. This guy with his strong jaw and gorgeous, auburn beard, his full lips and arms like a fucking lumberjack, god how is he making a man-bun look good? And why is his shirt unbuttoned those two buttons, it should be illegal to tease someone with that glimpse of the broad expanse of chest and dark hair-

He snaps himself out of the intense reminder of his bisexuality to find the cook giving him the exact same once over. It’s not until they lock eyes that the bearded man looks over at the bakery case, coughing awkwardly.

“Uh, so I got a few slices of cake left. I could throw some bread and stuff under the salamander if you want something toasty.”

“That would be amazing” He glances at the name tag, “Barclay.”

“You in town for the ski season?”

“No. My, um, my girlfriend has family here. Apparently. And she’s helping fix up their flower farm. I came down to help.”

Barclay sets slices of cheese on a thick bread with everything seasoning on the crust, “You want me to make two of these in case she’s hungry?”

“She’s not staying here. She’s staying with the neighbors.”

The cook pauses, plate in hand, “You want two anyway?”

“Please.”

He wolfs down an offered slice of flourless chocolate cake, pulls out his wallet as Barclay sets a to-go box on the counter.

“Don’t worry about it man, it’s on the house.”

“You sure?”

“Yep” Barclay smiles, melting the last of the frost from Joseph’s chest, “One time only, you come back tomorrow and you gotta pay full price.”

Joseph lifts the box like it’s an antique vase, “If everything else is as good as that cake, it will be worth it.”

Seven hours later, Joseph takes the same seat at the counter and is surprised to find Barclay writing something on a chalkboard.

“Do you work every hour this place is open?”

“Nah. I’m usually here early to bake what we need for the day and then I work the breakfast shift. I covered for Moira, the afternoon and evening cook, so she could go see visiting family yesterday. Here, this is the winter menu and, oh, lemme just-” He lifts the small chalkboard from the counter and hangs it near the cash register, “there, those are the specials.”

“Latkes? Really?”

Barclay chuckles, “Yeah, Hanukkah started two days ago, wanted to offer some specials for it.”

“No, I know it did, I’m sort of shocked anywhere in town acknowledges that” He winces, looks down at his menu, “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

“Aw, c’mon, didn’t the giant merry Christmas signs on all the public buildings clue you in to how multicultural this place is?”

Joseph offers an exasperated smile, “I’m glad I’m not the only one who notices that.”

“Latkes?”

“Please. Oh, and a side of eggs and some coffee, if you could.”

“Coming right up.”

They chat about the Lodge and the town as Barclay cooks, Joseph the only one in the place until a young, blonde woman appears in her apron just as a part of four comes in through the doors.

“Swear Dani always knows just when it’s gonna get busy. Oh, lemme top you off. Need any more cream?”

Joseph bites back a flirtatious comment in favor of, “no, thank you.”

When his breakfast arrives, Joseph takes two bites and moans, “God, if I had more money I’d demand you come cook for me in the city the next time my family visits. This is amazing.”

“Glad you like it, but don’t hire me yet” Barclay scrapes hash across the flattop, “my latkes are great but my sufganiyot needs some work.”

Joseph wipes his lips with a napkin, “No one in my family can make them either. My mom would get them from the bakery on the Sunday and then we’d eat them watching The Thin Man. Or It Happened One Night, that was dad's favorite.”

“Fuck that sounds nice. Hash and eggs up!”

He stares down at his plate as Barclay and Dani trade orders and instructions back and forth. Melanie isn’t interested in watching old movies; she loves seeing new ones with him, but the older stuff isn’t her cup of tea.

After breakfast he sends some emails from his laptop, then takes his paperback into the lobby to read by the fireplace until Melanie calls.

He wakes up in a comfy chair at noon to Aubrey, the young woman from last night, gently poking his shoulder.

“Hey, so, your girlfriend called with a message. She says she has to help Hank decorate the mint farm for an important work event. Um, that means something to you right? Because it seemed weird to me.”

He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh, “Yes, it means I’ll have plenty of time to finish my book. Thank you, Aubrey, for telling me.”

An hour later his book is finished and he’s wondering if he should just go nap in bed all day when Barclay enters the lobby, yawning and pulling on his coat.

“Hey Joseph, thought you’d be off fixing a house by now.”

He explains the situation, doing his best to hide the frustration and worry burbling in his stomach. Barclay rubs his beard thoughtfully and says, “You wanna give me a hand getting some decorations for the Lodge? You don’t, uh, you don’t have to, but it’d be nice to have some company.”

Five minutes later, he’s bundled in the passenger seat of a red, battered pick-up as Barclay steers them towards the center of town.

“We mostly need the greenery, like branches and stuff. We’ve got all the lights we need in storage so we’re good there, and we promised Duck–uh, he’s a friend, works in the national forest–we wouldn’t just harvest our decorations from random trees near the Lodge.”

“And we’re getting a tree?” Joseph asks as they turn at the sign reading directing them towards the Christmas tree farm in red letters.

“Nah, we try to keep it more general. Like, being a place of light and warmth in the darkness of winter. This place sells branches and wreaths in bulk if you know who to ask and also bring them cookies” he taps the tupperware box on the seat between them.

They park and walk across the snow-dusted gravel to a small cabin at the front of the farm, turning to the back of it while the other guests weave between the different pines. Even working as a team, it takes the two of them a half hour to move the crates of greenery to the truck.

“Phew, that’s the last one.” Barclay shuts the tailgate, “You hungry? The lone Vietnamese place in town does a mean lunch special.”

“Let me treat you? After all, you did make me breakfast.”

A puff of breath marks Barclay’s laugh. With a remarkably demur smile for a man his size he adds, “You’re pretty gratifying to cook for.” He reaches out, brushing stray pine needles from Joseph’s black, winter coat. Joseph is a nanosecond away from returning the favor when a familiar voice catches his ear.

“Melanie?” He waves to his girlfriend, who hurries over to him with Hank and three small children in tow. She loves kids, so he’s glad she’s getting to spend time with some (he knows she wants a big family, something he can’t give her quite as easily as a cis guy could).

“Hi sweetheart, thanks so much for understanding about today. They’ve had trouble selling the mint, I guess demand is really low? Anyway, Hank and I have to get a tree for the party, and there’s going to be a ton of clean-up tomorrow, but the next day do you wanna come with me to the hot cocoa tasting? It’s to support the volunteer fire department, Hanks a member so I thought it’d be great to support him.”

“I, um” Joseph tamps down on all the ways this is setting off his “she’s in act one of a rom-com and I’m the boring stick in the mud” alarm bells and nods, “yes, that sounds great. Good luck with the party tonight. And, um, just give me a call if you end up needing more help.”

“Melaniieeee, come on, someone has to hold uncle Hank’s other hand.” One of the blonde little girls waves her arms emphatically. His girlfriend departs with an apologetic smile. He blows her a kiss. She doesn’t seem to see it.

“....Did she say the guy can’t find buyers for mint? Like, the plant that’s a major ingredient in all kinds of food and also medicine? That mint?”

“It seems so.”

“It’s either man-eating or it tastes like shit.” When Joseph just keeps watching the happy group walk away, Barclay sets a warm hand on his shoulder, “still wanna get lunch? I’m not a gorgeous blonde, but I’m still a pretty good date.”

Joseph turns, eyebrows raised, and Barclay grins, “There you are. I was worried you’d stay spaced out and I’d have to stick you in the bed with the plants to get you home.”

“Not a chance, big guy.” He nearly apologizes for the nickname, but Barclay just playfully shoulder checks him on his way to unlock the car door.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joseph slept through his alarm, so technically he has no one to blame but himself.

But come on, it isn’t that ridiculous to think a morning hot cocoa tasting event will have food that isn’t Christmas cookies. Or that it would have coffee.

Instead he’s been sitting next to Melanie as she chats with other Snowfall residents like she’s known them for years. Betty, Hanks’ mother, is at their table, and seems to have taken a distinct dislike to Joseph. One he is really, really hoping isn’t related to the fact that he and Melanie are the only mixed-race couple in the building.

He gamely drinks whatever cocoa Melanie suggests, and he has to admit the one Hank made tastes nice. But his pouring sugar into an empty stomach is making him feel like he’s ten years old and just ate all his Halloween candy in one go.

Hank finally joins them and Joseph earnestly tries to get to know him. But he keeps getting boxed out when Melanie and Hank turn the conversation towards their favorite Christmas traditions.

“Marshmallows!!!!” The three kids at the table shriek and sprint off to a figure that just came through the doors. Barclay manages to keep his balance as they clamor for the boxes in his arms, and gives them each a white, pillowy square before unboxing the rest onto the table.

“I don’t know why he fusses with that. You can get two dozen bags at Walmart for ten dollars.” Betty mutters.

“He likes it. We were chatting yesterday and he admitted that he makes macarons when he’s stressed.”

“Which means?” Melanie looks at him, perplexed.

“He fears nothing.” Joseph says blithely. When he notices everyone at the table looking at him oddly, he stands, “I’m going to see if he needs any help.”

Barclay looks up as he more or less dives into the community center kitchen, “trying to get first dibs on the coffee ones?”

“No. Not that those don’t sound delicious but if I eat anything else sweet I’m going to be sick.”

“Kinda thought that might be the case.” Barclay reaches into one box, pulling out a McDonalds bag and two travel mugs of coffee, “it’s not fancy, but when Dani said she saw you literally running out of the lobby this morning I had a hunch you might need a pick me up.”

Joseph takes the offered mug, staring at the shiny blue exterior.

“Can I hug you?”

Barclay rumbles out a laugh and opens his arms, “C’mere.”

Joseph tentatively wraps his arms around him, tension that’s been there since 2014 melting out of his spine as Barclay hugs him back.

“Is this all Egg McMuffin related?”

“No. I’ve felt lonely all morning and I’m…seeing you changed that.”

A soft, concerned hum is all the reply Barclay gives as he holds Joseph a little tighter before reluctantly letting go.

After the cocoa tasting is through, Melanie asks Joseph to come with her while she does some Christmas shopping downtown. It’s perfectly pleasant, walking in the light snow with Christmas carols drifting from every store. But as they hold hands, all he can think of is how it would feel to do the same with Barclay. Judging by how much of Melanie’s conversation revolves around Hank, he’s guessing she wishes she was holding a different hand.

As they’re turning back towards the community center, street lamps lighting their way, a voice calls out “fire” and they’re suddenly pelted in snowballs.

“Hah!” Hank yells to Melanie from where he and his nieces and nephew are hidden behind a snowbank, “told you I’d get you back for last night!”

“Oh it’s on!” Melanie takes off after them, calling a goodbye to Joseph as she does.

Snow slips past his collar and drips down his back all the way to his car. By the time he arrives at the Lodge, no amount of blasting the heater relieves the chill.

He’s trying not to look uptight or upset on his way to his room, but when snow manages to slip down his pants, he groans and thunks his head into his door.

“You okay there?” Barclay is behind, wrapping paper in one hand and tape in the other.

“No. I got hit by a bunch of snowballs and I couldn’t act like I hated it, which I did, because Melanie clearly loved it and I don’t need yet another reason to seem stuffy and out of touch next to Hank! And to top it all off I cannot get warm.”

“You wanna use the springs?”

“They’re closed.”

Barclay gives him a sly smile, “Get your suit and meet me at that back door.”

He changes, tugging his complementary robe around himself as he waits. When Barclay returns, he ushers him out and past the usual springs to a door marked Staff Only.

“Holy shit, I thought this was a maintenance shed or something.”

“Nope. We want the staff to have a way to enjoy the springs without dealing with guests.” Barclay tugs off his sweatshirt, revealing his bare torso. Like his arms, it’s dotted with tattoos, and Joseph quickly tosses his robe over a chair so he can join him for a closer look at one in particular.

“I like the Bigfoot one.”

“Knew you would” Barclay teases, eyes skating along Joseph's arms and chest, “think yours is more, uh, tasteful.”

Joseph glances at the black silhouette of Bigfoot on his shoulder, then at the woodland scene with the cryptid peeking out of the trees on Barclay’s bicep, “Yours is much more eye-catching.”

“Got it when I was cooking out on the west coast. My nickname was Bigfoot so it seemed like a good memento.”

Joseph playfully nudges his foot beneath the water, “They don’t seem too big to me.”

“Maybe not. I like to think every part of me is, uh, proportional” He leans back, spreading his arms over the side of the pool and Joseph uses all his self-control not to look down and confirm his statement. Then it runs out.

“Is…is that tattoo of a jar of chili crisp?”

Barclay blushes, “Yeah. A friend of mine and I got condiment tattoos as part of a stunt to raise some money for the Lodge.” The cook opens his legs, ostensibly to move the tattoo closer so Joseph can see it.

As Joseph adjusts for a better look, Barclay frowns, “Fuck, that looks like it hurt.”

He sighs, looking at the scar on his side, “Being shot generally does.”

“Holy fuck. When you said you’d been in the FBI I didn’t realize it meant, like, dangerous shoot-out levels of FBI.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be. I was negotiating with a chunk of a cult that had taken some hostages on a farm and my back-up…didn’t back me up. They started firing on someone else's order and didn’t stop no matter what I said. I found out the hard way that someone had ammo that could pierce a bulletproof vest.”

“Fuck, Joseph, I’m sorry.” Barclay reaches out, tracing the skin above the scar.

“It was for the best. I like the work I’m doing now much better and I go to sleep with a clearer conscience. Plus I have more time to write.”

“I really do wanna read your book when you’re done.”

He means it. No one in Joseph’s life has ever meant it.

“I’ll send you a copy, even if it’s just a stapled together one.”

Barclay yawns, rests his head on Joseph’s shoulder, “Gonna hold you to that.”

A hand bumps his thigh, palm upturned. An invitation.

Joseph takes it, holding tight to the warmth as the snow swirls through the air.

—--------------------------------------------------------

“I hate being right.” Joseph hangs back against the Lodge wall, sporting the closest thing he owns to an ugly sweater (deep blue with snowflakes and UFOs) as his girlfriend kisses a man in a far uglier one on the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry.” Barclay murmurs, though his voice is oddly tight.

“It’s for the best. But I need to go talk with her.”

Melanie is still glowing when Joseph waves her to the side door so they can talk outside.

“Joseph, I, before you say whatever it is you want to say I need to tell you that I’m-”

“Breaking up with me?”

Her face falls, “You could tell?”

“I did have a career in investigation for years. What I wanted to say is that we’re on the same page. Dating you has been great, but I think we just want different things.”

“Yeah” she looks over her shoulder to where Hank is explaining the nativity scene on his shirt to his nephew, “I think we do. Take care, okay?”

He smiles and nods, giving a little wave as she disappears inside. Then he skirts the Lodge and sneaks in the back door, no longer in a festive enough mood to be in a crowd, even if that crowd includes his friends from the Lodge.

The noise from the party dies down around ten, the same time he finishes the last crossword puzzle in his book. He’s wishing he’d done them in pencil so he could erase them and do some again when there’s a knock on the door.

Opening it, he finds Barclay standing there, hands behind his back.

“You can tell me to fuck off but I…I brought these” He produces a bag of jelly donuts from behind him, then reveals a DVD case, “and a copy of The Thin Man.”

Joseph takes both, voice shaky as he thanks him.

“I thought we could watch it together. I, I know it’s silly, and I almost didn’t do this because doing it right after you broke up with Melanie seemed creepy but also you’re only here for so long and I didn’t wanna chicken out” Barclay pauses, taking a deep breath, “but I wanted to say that I can’t think of a better way to spend a winter night than eating and watching old movies with you. Or just being with you.”

Joseph carefully sets the gifts on the bed. Then he takes two, determined strides and backs Barclay against the door, kissing him like his life depends on it. The cook moans, throwing his arms over Joseph's shoulders.

“That” Joseph murmurs, tracing his lips along Barclays’ throat, “is the best way I can think of spending a winter night.”

Barclay tips up Joseph’s chin to kiss him again, chaster but twice as hungry as before, “You make a convincing case, babe. So how about we find a new way to keep warm?”

They only make it down to their underwear before the exhaustion of the day sets in, but neither of them minds. As the snow falls in clumps outside, the cuddle close, trading sugar-coated kisses under the covers.

#sternclay #agent stern/barclay #winter fills #trans agent stern

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charlesandmartine · 10 months

Text

Wednesday 5th July 2023

Overslept but made it to Downtown Banff to investigate tours. We wanted to visit the Gondola ride up Sulphur Mountain. In all naivety we trotted along to the ticket booking office at one of the rather posh hotels in Downtown expecting to book for a convenient time today. I was not expecting them to give me the single option of 6.50pm tomorrow. Then we received a barrage of telephone numbers which turned out to be a price! There was no choice so the flexible friend changed hands. Then warming to this game the bloke said what about Lake Louise? Now this is a problem. We discovered this yesterday that access is very difficult. Its neighbour Lake Moraine already has a complete ban on private cars. I can see the same happening for Louise. All slots on the regular town buses are booked for days ahead. You can queue but it takes hours to get a lift. So I listened again to the telephone numbers and partially opted for a pickup tour tomorrow early. Book the gondola and I'll go collude with my wife about the Lake Louise thing. Oh he said, you like to canoe? I can arrange that. COLLUDE I said, COLLUDE, my canoeing days are definitely over.

Well we figured if we want to get to the place it will have to be the flexible friend again. So we are booked for the am.

With today now to ourselves we set off along the Bow River to view the Bow Falls. We set out along the path and the all pervading scent on the breeze was pine as strong as furniture polish, but a man passed by and the breeze changed to pure cannabis. We have to get out of here before we get a liking for it. Bow Falls was spectacular with mountains as backdrop and a level change of several meters along the full width of the river causing a thunderous roar before calming again on a turn the map referred to as Surprise Corner.

The walk continued in the other direction towards 'Cave and Basin'. In 1883 William McCardell, brother Tom and Frank McCabe following work on the Canadian Pacific went prospecting in this area and came across holes in the ground and a hot sulphur spring. The place smelt of a school chemistry laboratory. After many battles for ownership and exploitation the place was seen to be of great importance and in 1885 Parliament stepped in making it Canada's first National Park. The government then proceeded in 1887 to develop the place themselves by building a bathhouse. Cures for all sorts of ailments were envisioned. Personally the thought of sitting in hot sulphuric water would not be my idea spending my time off from the daily toil.

The original name for Banff was Siding 29 whilst it was purely a construction site for the Canadian Pacific railway. Clearly this name lacked a little in gravitas, so it was renamed in 1884 after the Scottish birthplace of George Stephen, the President of the railway. On arrival, first impressions of Banff were a little mixed. After the places we had seen on route, Banff was busy crowded and commercialised. Today, all seems different. It is a very pleasing manicured, clean, timbered Alpine style town. The trouble is that is likely to be the opinion also of the other six million people here. If all tourists were to be sucked up by a giant vacuum cleaner the remaining population would be 9,656. Downtown's endless rows of gift shops, boutiques, cafes, restaurants, ice cream parlours gives way seemlessly to smart expensive hotels and apartments. This is one smart tourist operation which exists simply because of the eye boggling scenery of mountains of epic proportions, azure blue rivers, lakes, waterfalls and deep emerald pine forests. Everywhere you look you are blown away with the beauty of this place and if you have to share it with all these other people then I guess, so be it. When the sun shines, they can be forgiven for being there as well. It was interesting that the further we walked from the centre, the fewer people we met. Instead we met two Elk in a clearing, two red squirrels and a Columbian Ground Squirrel. We were told later that Elk can charge at you.

Great day. Thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it. We even enjoyed a flat white and a local SB tonight as well.

ps. We saw a man dressed in a kilt today. I didn't think it was customary though to wear it as a mini skirt with black tights! He will be spoken to by the Clan leader no doubt!

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billthedrake · 3 months

Text

Note: This is a hypnosis story co-written with @josmith1718

THE PROTOCAL (CHAPTER THREE)

I woke up the next day to find the bed empty again. I don’t know what it was, but I usually woke up early with Dad and we both had breakfast before heading to our jobs. This weekend, it seemed as though I was catching up on the sleep I had not been having because of the increased workload from the promotion. I was also sleeping like a baby because of dad’s increased libido and his breakthrough, finally let me go there... have a taste of that beautiful furry ass. I was already sporting morning wood, feeling like a teenager again when I realized I should get up and see what was on today’s docket.

I roused up and slipped on some shorts and a T-shirt. The dildo was there on the nightstand but cleaned and standing up, like Dad had set it ready for future use.

I padded down the hall and saw the door to my office was closed. I realized Dad must have been doing another session with the Company when I heard him talking with the Tech Bro. I didn’t know he’d scheduled anything, but I figured he’d fill me in later. Meanwhile I went to fix some coffee for us, hopefully he would not be in there too long.

I checked my phone and saw the email from the Company:

"Hello Kyle,

I hope the Protocol is going well for you! Just checking in to see if everything has been going well with you and Brian. Let me know if you’d like to have a virtual follow up. We like to make sure our customers are finding success in their lives after using our service.

The Company"

They were definitely getting a five-star rating!

Dad finally came out, a relaxed smile on his face.

"Morning son," he greeted me. I was surprised he had done his consultation shirtless, but it was the weekend, no need to be so formal.

"Hey Dad. You talked to the Company?" I asked as I got our mugs out and ready for the coffee. He looked at me, smiling before nodding, "Yep. It was a debriefing consultation to make sure everything was going well."

I leaned on the counter, eyes heavy on him, smiling, "And...?"

A part of me was still worried Dad might think it was not working or it was a hoax. Every time I put him under, I always ensured he was unaware that he went under, so how could he even know if he was actually being hypnotized?

He grinned. "And... I’m getting some incredible sex. Having you eat me out was incredible. I guess I had too many hang ups to realize how good it could be. Not sure if it’s like the placebo effect because I haven’t done anything except for listening to those audio files. A month ago, I would not have let you near my backdoor and last night you ate me out and shoved a dildo in me and it wasn’t bad. I actually enjoyed it.” He grinned, blushing a bit. He was adorable.

"It was amazing for me, too, Dad."

Dad had a knowing smirk as he walked towards me. He gave me a kiss and then lowered his shorts and turned around, bracing himself on the island.

"I, um, cleaned myself out again, son... you think you could rim me?” He blushed.

My first thought was uh oh, I created a horny monster. My second thought was fuck it, Dad’s ass is meaty as hell, and I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in there and munch away.

I crouched down and grabbed those meaty cheeks, slapping them a bit. Dad let out a small grunt.

“You have such an amazing ass, dad. Beautiful, muscled, hairy... a real man’s ass.” It was like tawdry newlywed sex, fucking around with Dad in every room of the house.

The man reached back and parted his buns. Dad’s trench was hairy and I loved that Irish Spring smell and the way his hairs there were almost fluffy soft. I licked the crevice. Dad liked that, but he LOVED it when my tongue made contact with his pucker.

"Oh God, son. Rim me, buddy.... Aw yeah, just like that."

Like the night before, he hiked his ass back and rode my face. But unlike the night before I had a good position to grip his ass to hold him steady when I wanted to power drill that hole with my tongue.

I probably alternated my rim approach and ate him out for ten solid minutes before I pulled back. I pressed a finger against his ring and watched it sink in. Deeper than that dildo last night. I wondered if Dad played with that toy while I was asleep, practicing as I slept next to him, unaware that my old man was fucking himself in preparation for my cock. Fuck, that turned me on, and I tried inserting two fingers with some extra spit. It was too much but Dad loved the combo of one finger inside and one finger along the outside of the ring.

"Come on buddy, stand up," he finally said. Not angry or scared about my exploration of his ass. He sounded out of breath, "Your turn stud, let me take care of you."

I pulled back and did what he asked as I pulled down my shorts. I had a pretty good idea I was going to be getting serviced by Dad.

“I think you may be obsessed with my ass just like I’m with your cock, huh.”

He was such a great cocksucker, something I would never say aloud to him. I don’t think we were there yet, but the man gave the best head. He knew exactly what I liked, and my favorite was how he would be on his knees with his eyes on me, looking up at my reaction to gauge how fast or slow he should go.

Of course, Dad did not disappoint with his performance. The big beefy guy got on his haunches and just went to town on my dong. I still remember the first time he blew me and surprised me at how amazing it was to have my father’s lips and tongue and throat on my cock. It just got better with the longer he and I fooled around. Steady bobs as he gave the base of my shaft a slight twist with his hand. The man was a milking machine and every time he sucked me off, it made me feel like the only man in the world.

"Oh SHIT!" I cried when dad deepthroated me out of nowhere. I was already horned up and had my eyes closed with my hands on his shoulders, rubbing them as he did his thing. The deepthroating was unexpected and that tripped my wire and got me firing my morning load.

Dad gulped it down expertly and stayed with my cock in his mouth while I rode the orgasm, which went on longer than usual. I had to pat his hair, urging him to slow down and finally pull off. He had a big grin when he did.

"That going to last ya, buddy?" He asked as he got up, his cock obscenely stretching the fabric of his shorts.

"How long does it have to...?” I nervously asked. I was already thinking of an afternoon quickie. If my dad’s ex thought he had a crazy libido, I must’ve inherited it as well and then some. I was ready to jump him again as he scratched his pec and with his thumb cleaned a bit of cum on his chin before putting it in his mouth and sucking it off.

"At least till tonight," he laughed at my reaction watching him suck off his thumb with remnants of my cum. He gave me a pat on the shoulder, "Go ahead and shower up son. I’ll fix some breakfast."

“Don’t you want to come and shower with me instead?” I asked as I tried to grab his cock.

He laughed and slapped my hand away before he spun me around and held me in his arms, “We’ll run out of the hot water if I go in with you, bud.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek and then slapped my ass, “Get in the shower, son, that’s a fatherly order.”

“Yes sir.” I did a half ass salute and left.

****

Later that morning, I set up in my office and met the Tech Bro for a consultation. Their customer service was exceptional. I replied to his email and within minutes, we had set up this meeting for the same day.

It was a great conversation. I was a little embarrassed to talk about all the sex stuff, but I figured that’s why we went with these guys. So, I told him about the progress with rimming and toy play.

Tech Bro gave me an "attaboy" smirk. "Glad to hear, Kyle. Is that what you wanted to get out of this?"

He knew there was more both sexually and otherwise, but I was hesitant to admit it.

"A lot of it, yeah," I replied, "I don’t wanna push D—uh, Brian to do something he doesn’t wanna do." I almost referred to him as Dad but had to stop myself.

"Like I mentioned before, Kyle, this just taps into Brian’s deeper desires, not run against them. Keep reminding yourself that if he doesn’t want to do something, he will not do them."

As he explained, I noticed Tech Bro was wearing a slim-cut navy suit without a tie. But my attention was drawn to his pocket square. I don’t know why I was so focused on that. Maybe because it looked old fashioned. Or something my CEO would wear or something. Or maybe it was just the pattern.

"Good," Tech Bro said. "You feel confident with the Protocol going forward." More of a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah," I responded confidently, "It took me a while to get the hang of it, but Brian seems really receptive and that helps."

Tech Bro smiled and nodded, "I’ve not met a more receptive subject in a long time Kyle."

I was strangely proud of that comment and a bit horny. I would definitely need Dad to help me out if he wasn’t tired or busy. I absentmindedly rubbed my crotch until we finished.

"Well, you guys are the best," I gushed.

He laughed, "Always glad to hear a customer is happy."

We wrapped up and signed off. I felt a little lazy that afternoon and though my cock was straining my shorts, my tiredness won out and I took a nap while Dad watched golf.

***

I hated Sunday evenings, since it meant the end of the week, but it had been an amazing, relaxing and unforgettable weekend with Dad. I sometimes worried if I’d ever get sick of this domestic life with my father. I smiled and decided no, I would never get sick of being with Dad. Only wish I could openly show him off as my husband rather than just my father...

I did the dishes after dinner, and he put them away. As he was finished with the last one, I dropped the trigger word. No need to have the theatrics of waiting it out or planning. After the conversation with the tech bro, I owned it, using the trigger that made dad into this beautiful zonked out hunk wherever we were.

"Power down."

Dad entered that relaxing state easily and readily.

Before, I’d been focused on specifics, but now, it was like a switch in mind shifted and now, I just wanted to get him under.

"You are in that white room, Brian." I said with confidence.

I was getting hard in my shorts as I stood a couple feet in front of him, matching his vacant stare with my own.

"Yes, it’s bright in here." He replied. It seemed like dad was beginning to be more confident in this state as well. He sounded as though he were awake and not under. I had to check and grabbed his hand, raising it and letting go. His arm fell and hit his side, but he did not register anything. My cock was beginning to hurt from straining my shorts.

"Yes it is... It is blindingly white. Soon, though, you are beginning to feel a faint breeze. Do you know where it is coming from?”

“No, I’m alone in here.”

“That’s not completely true, Brian. Kyle is always with you.” I grabbed his hand and he looked at me and smiled, “Kyle is here.”

“He is and he is going to be with you always, making sure you are safe and happy. Even now, you and Kyle realize that there is water coming into the room. It’s slowly filling the room until your feet are under the water.”

“Son, we have to leave. The water could rise.” I felt him tighten his grip and try to pull me in.

“As long as you are in the room with Kyle, nothing will happen to you, Brian.”

“But my son... I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“As long as you are with Kyle in the room, nothing will happen to him. Both of you are protecting each other. Why is that?”

“We love each other.”

I smiled and caressed his hand. He lightened his grip, and his thumb began to caress my hand.

“Now Brian, the water is up to your ankles, the water is a beautiful blue, it is relaxing to be in the cool water flowing beneath you."

"I’m feeling relaxed." Dad said.

"You are safe in this white room. With the cool water, Kyle and his voice."

Dad was smiling, “My beautiful son... a real stud.”

I was breathing hard, this was really hot, dad’s innermost thoughts verbally expressed and, in his mind, I was ‘beautiful’ and a ‘stud,’ "You are safe with him." I said in a raspy voice.

Dad nodded.

"When the time is right, Kyle will guide you." I reached out with my free hand and touched his arm. As soon as I had made him feel safe and he felt my touch again, I could see dad get fully erect. He was chubbing a bit when I held his hand, but he lost it when he went into protection mode. Now that we were ‘safe’ he began to get hard again, sporting an equally angry boner like mine.

"With his body and his voice, he will lead you through this water safely."

"My son is such a good boy.” His breathing was getting heavy now.

If dad kept whispering sweet nothings to me, I would cum hands free.

"On the count of three you will return to your kitchen, once again following all instructions and suggestions and being unaware that you were under.” I let go of him and kept my close proximity with him.

"One... the water is drawing away.... Two.... the white is darkening, the water receding fully now.... Wake up...Three."

He blinked and smirked, mistaking my proximity with wanting to initiate something.

"Someone horny?" He asked.

Maybe he wasn’t so mistaken. "A little," I admitted.

Dad grinned, “Duty calls.” Dad crouched down in front of me and fished out my cock. I placed my hands on his shoulders and let him take care of me.

***

The work week hit in the worst way. My promotion meant I had more responsibility at work, which was translating into longer hours. Dad had dinner ready for me when I got home, but I was tired and stressed. I even begged off one of his blowjobs one night. He was sad but bounced back by giving me a foot rub as we watched T.V. and then another massage before bed.

I did make sure to put Dad under a couple of times, to reinforce the Protocol. Maybe it wasn't quite the rush of a turn on to do so now, almost a routine. But I didn't want to lose our progress. The novelty was wearing off, but I can’t deny it was working wonders.

I noticed the dildo had moved a couple times during the week. I guessed Dad was using the dildo on his own for his “bottoming exercises,” and I made a mental note to ask him about it later. Now, each time I came home, I would play “Where’s Waldo” with the dildo see if the dildo had traveled between rooms while I was away.

By the time Friday rolled around, I was ready for a special date night. Dad was in a giddy mood too, his eyes almost twinkling in excitement when he asked if I had anything I wanted to do that evening.

"Why don't you get cleaned out, Dad?" I asked. "That is, if you can wait a little for dinner."

The man undid the buttons on his plaid shirt. Damn he had a hell of a lot of muscle, more defined than before. He had been hitting the gym with more frequency now. He wasn’t jacked but was getting some real definition. Honestly, I loved my dad’s body before, but if he was hitting the gym harder AFTER we initiated the Protocol, well, that’s a nice bonus I thought.

"You got it, buddy," he said. Chipper as hell. This from a man who wouldn't even let me touch his ass a month ago. "Any chance I could get a taste of ya first? You know, as a preview?"

I grinned and unzipped my suit. Friday was business casual, but I was still trying to dress for success in my new role. I sat on the couch and let Dad scarf down my dong, slobbering on it, and working my length, before he pulled off.

"You're gonna cum soon, aren't ya?"

"Probably, yeah."

Dad gave another quick suck then pulled off. "Let's hold that thought, buddy."

As Dad got up, he walked away but stopped and looked back before saying, “I love when you wear your suits, son. Turns me on like no other seeing my executive stud in his tailored suits.” I bit my lip and grabbed hold of the cushions and concentrated on my breathing. This man was about to make me cum. God, I was the one that needed to get in a quick cold shower if I was going to survive without cumming.

While he showered and cleaned himself out with the new douche, I went to the bedroom and stripped down. I hadn't gotten off the day before and was hard as a rock and dad’s comment and oral service didn’t help at all. It felt like I had taken several Viagra pills for lunch.

I reclined on the bed naked except for a tie around my neck that dad had given me. It was funny, I never gifted dad with ties or socks for Father’s Day, but he would give me ties almost always on special occasions. I didn’t mind, especially since I wear a tie daily at work. Thinking of the ties helped me take a breather and get my erection under control until I started thinking about dad in a different light. I thought of when I would put dad under and what new suggestions I’d plant in his mind.

Finally my old man strutted in. All of his hot, blue collar muscle and his graying hair made him look incredible. Coyly, he had a towel wrapped around his waist, but he took it off and tossed it on the back of a chair.

"All ready for ya, son," he said as he got up on the bed, “Damn, buddy, you are pushing my buttons tonight, alright.” Just him saying that made me leak some pre.

"Could I eat a proper meal from that ass, dad?" I asked in a whispered voice. I was trying really hard not to shoot prematurely but dad was so fucking hot in that moment. His eyes ate me up, his hand was hot on my skin, and his fresh smell was intoxicating.

He straddled my waist, facing away, before backing his body towards me, "I think you could, son. I washed really well, bud, squeaky clean just for my boy."

"Let me show you my appreciation for cleaning yourself out..." I said as I kissed his left ass cheek, then his right. Dad leaned over some and reached back to pull his own buns apart.

Dad's hole was beautiful. Tight, puckered ring, just the right amount of fine hair around it. I leaned up and started licking.

"Buddy..." He pressed back into my munching mouth. I couldn't believe my father had gotten so into being eaten out. I think I surprised myself too by how much I loved to rim him. I was eating him, finally something to get my mind off my own leaking erection. I was in fucking heaven in that moment, munching on dad’s beautiful hole.

But as I worked his sensitive hole fast and slow, deep and shallow, I wanted to try more. I pulled back and teased the rim with my finger. The spit lubed the way and I watched Dad's hole open up enough to swallow my digit to the knuckle. Still tight as fuck but accepting. I prodded the entrance more. What surprised me more was that dad didn’t object in the least, letting me finger him. I needed to kiss him, show him how much I loved him.

"I wanna kiss you, Dad," I hissed.

"Yeah," he grunted and as he pulled away and turned around, I saw he was not only very erect, he was dripping mad. Like father like son, both men leaking like faulty faucets. He repositioned his body and I met him halfway, our mouths crashing together for a deep, wet kiss.

"Love ya, buddy," he growled into my lips.

"Love you too Dad. So much."

We kind of wrestled on the bed. Dad was bigger and stronger but he let me take the top position, my younger body positioned above his. Once I was there, Dad's eyes widened and he let out a choked groan. And like that, I felt his legs wrap around my waist and his hands clutch at my arms.

This was the hypnosis kicking in, I guess. I gave a sexy smirk to him as I reached over for the lube. Then I wedged my hand beneath our bodies to find that magic spot beneath Dad's legs.

"Damn!" he hissed the second I touched his pucker.

"Feel good, Dad?" I asked. I probed deeper. My fingers were extra lubed and soon Dad's hole would be too.

He nodded, urgent and vulnerable. "You have no idea, buddy."

I slathered the rest of the lube onto my cock and scooted in place.

"You're big," he hissed as I smeared the greasy liquid around his entrance, stimulating him in the process.

His eyes rolled back as his head hit the pillow under him. "God..." He grunted euphorically.

It was an awakening, the point of no return, he was getting that promised ‘pleasure tenfold’ I suggested to him before. He was being bombarded by pleasure from everything; my touch, my weight on his, my cock entering him, his ‘secret spot’ in his ass, amplified by his need to make me happy and deliver me pleasure with his body. Everything was perfectly aligned for dad to have an unforgettable date night.

I took in his momentary, out of body experience at the chance to power my hips forward. And like that, my dick was pushing into the tightest most wonderful sleeve. Wet and hot. I was wedged about four inches inside my father's cherry. Me, his son, I was breaching his cherry for real.

"Fuck!" I growled, overcome by the feeling and the knowledge I was taking Dad's virginity.

The man's eyes opened up and looked at me in a silent plea. His hands were gripping my arms too tightly and his tree trunk legs were crushing my sides, but I didn’t care. I saw fear on his face. Not pain, not discomfort, but something more primally psychological. I was going to help him through it, even if I had to endure this moment of discomfort too.

"Listen to my voice, Dad," I urged. My dick held dead still inside his guts as I looked down on him. "You're making me feel good, Dad. Feeling really great, thanks to you... I want to continue... I need to fuck."

I started sawing in and out with gentle, micro thrusts.

"God, son," Dad grunted. He was feeling a range of intense feelings. My cock, his stretched hole, the novel sensations of having his guts opened up. His eyes focused more intently on me, trying to follow the hypnotic suggestions that had been planted.

"This feels right, Brian," I grunted. This was the first time I'd called Dad by his first name outside of the hypnosis sessions. I was thrusting in and out of Dad now. Getting deeper. The man was still tight as fuck. I was getting a hell of a first ride. "Tell me this feels right."

Dad's voice was soft and deep. "It feels right, Kyle."

I fucked him faster, deeper. "I'm gonna try to hit your spot, Brian.... you gonna let your son all the way in?"

"I want you to, Kyle," Dad said. Eyes still trained laser focused on my face, his attention still craving my voice.

I slowed the in and out motion and jabbed at that deepest cherry spot with shallow thrusts. "Right there, Brian... Dad... feel it?"

He tried to keep his eyes on me, but his body was going into overdrive. He was sweating a lot. His legs were still pressing me tightly but with the sensation of my cock in his ass, I didn’t care. Dad soon screamed, "YES!"

His fingers tightened even more around my biceps, it actually hurt how with powerful his grip was.

"Oh, Kyle... son!"

"Feel it, Dad," I urged. I graduated from shallow jabs to full deep strokes into Dad. Giving him the full fuck his first time out. His face turned red and his body grew rigid. And hands free, his cock fired off. Heavy jets of Dad's seed shot out, all over his body, reaching his cheek and forehead even, his cum was that strong.

I couldn't hold off either. I was orgasming the hottest orgasm of my life. The load flooding Dad's no longer virgin guts matched the size of the one he was shooting. The whole time, his hand gripped me and his legs wrapped around my ass greedily.

We both broke into a smile as we came down from our mutually timed high. I didn't want to pull out yet, and Dad didn't want to unclench his legs just yet.

"That... buddy... was fucking amazing," Dad said.

"Dad... I didn't even dream it could be so good," I said.

We kissed and embraced. His legs and hands let up finally, letting our make out session be a comfortable experience for me. But, after a minute of this romantic kissing, we were both getting horned up again, wanting to experience what had just happened for a second or third time. We looked at one another and knew, we were going to fuck again.

#drakestories

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top-secret-stuff · 2 years

Text

Clueless... (part one)

(Eddie Munson x fem reader)

Summary: you've been dreaming of Eddie since day 1 but you're shy self couldn't do anything about it, only thing you could try to do is impress him trying to win him over, but was it bad to think this way? At the end of the day you are his best friend...

Just to clarify reader is 18!

Around 2k words

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You met Eddie a long long time ago, you were both toddlers and your family's knew each other very well that's why you we're constantly around each other. Constant play dates, trips to the park, learning to read and write together. Doing everything together. You both just kind of clicked. It was also convenient that you lived right down the street from Eddie.

You went to the same kindergarten then to the same school, shared a lot of moments together, your earliest and sweetest memory was when you were just 5 years old, you we're running around your backyard when suddenly you tripped, causing you to fall hard and bruise your knee, it hurt..like a lot, Eddie came running to you with a worried look on his face and a band aid in hand.

"look it has a pony on it, so it'll heal fast" he said placing the band aid carefully on your bruise.

That was such a nice memory of yours, it made your heart melt every time you thought about moments like these. But growing a little older you met Lauren, she was your second best friend. You both met in first grade and since then have been really close. Lauren was always a little more "out there" i guess. She was never afraid to voice her opinion or confront someone if needed, you we're the opposite so that's exactly why it worked out. She was always there to stand up for you and you we're there to help her stay calm and collected.

------------------------------------------

"ugh, Lauren it's been just 2 day's and i already miss you" you said letting out a sigh

"oh come on y/n it's just these two weeks, and when spring break is over I'll be right back at Hawkins"

Lauren and her family had gone of to vacation, a nice beach house, spending her day's tanning and enjoying the warm weather. Which meant you had all 14 day's left to spend with Eddie at his trailer, that's where you both spent most of your time together, talking nonsense and enjoying each other's company.

See.. sleepovers we're a big thing for you two, even as teenagers, but you never slept together of course, Eddie always offered his bed to you while he was peacefully laid out on the floor. You found it adorable.

Actually that's where you we're right now, yes that's right in Eddie's trailer. His uncle had left for a work trip, it was only a few days though.

Whenever you we're staying at his place only thing you mostly felt was being sorry for him but more his uncle, he had been working so hard to raise Eddie, put food on the table and try to take care of all the other responsibilities, only thing that he just didn't have time for was cleaning up..it was always a god damn mess in there from cans everywhere to dirty dishes and much more, though you couldn't blame the man as I said he was working a lot, mostly taking night shifts cause he got paid a little more that way, and after a hard working night all he could manage to do in the day was sleep, eat, shower and sleep a bit more until it was back to getting ready to go to work.

So as a nice gesture whenever you stayed over you would clean up, cook some food for the both of them and leave some of your movies for his uncle to enjoy, you knew he liked those a lot, you did all of that though in the early mornings, both Eddie and his uncle sleeping tight, not a care in the world.

But sometimes you just didn't understand Eddie, was it really that hard to help out his uncle sometimes? Or even for his own sake. But it actually worked out for you making a good Impact on him and his uncle. You see as you both grew older, both of you grew drastically different. You we're a sweet, innocent girl who liked to read books and study hard for your goals while Ed's on the other hand was failing his classes drastically even though you always tried to help, he was also a drug dealer who liked to use them himself although you never dared, even though he had offered many time, it was nothing crazy of course just some harmless weed.

Maybe u're wondering what we even talk about or have in common, to be honest i don't really know myself, but all i do know is we understand each other so well and it's just such an unbreakable bond it makes you happy thinking about him.. well your friendship i mean.

------------------------------------------

"i know, i know" you said, continuing to talk on the phone with Lauren

"so how was last night? You two we're up to anything interesting last night?" Lauren said teasingly

You could practically hear her smile through the phone

"just the usual, watched a movie, ate some take ou-" you were quickly cut off by Lauren's disappointment

"yeah, yeah movie, food, talking, sleep, no sex not even a kiss, the same as always" Lauren said not surprised

"well why'd you even ask then?" You laughed

"y/n I'm just wondering.. waiting... no.. anticipating when ur going to make ur move"

"Lauren you know it's not easy" you tried to back yourself up "infact i don't even know if he likes me!"

"oh really? You've been friends for god knows how long and you think he hasn't pictured you naked or something? If not even worse" she said cackling

"LAUREN" you said raising your voice a little

By this time Eddie had already woken up, specifically a lot earlier then he would have normally, he knew that when you staid over the night you would wake up the next morning early clean, cook and quickly leave before he even got close to waking up and thanking you. He would just call you later and then put on a speech about how you shouldn't have even tho he was super grateful. This time he was determined to thank you face to face. He heard you were talking on the phone as he quietly walked out of his bedroom. You we're in the bathroom, seeing the telephone cord stretch all the way in there.

He stood by the door quietly listening, hoping to catch something interesting you we're saying, at least he hoped so..

"what's that noise y/n?" Lauren was speaking so loud you probably could hear her standing in the next room, perfect for Eddie, but unfortunately you and your sensitive ear were right there, phone in between your head and your shoulder, while you scrubbed the bath, it was a little filthy and this was your last task you took upon yourself before leaving the trailer.

"oh just cleaning the bath, this is the last thing and I'm out" you reassured her, knowing she thought that you were just wasting your time instead of making moves on Eddie, but in your eyes this was your chance.

"wait..., you're telling me that you.. are bent over right know and he.. doesn't even get a look?" She said more seriously than jokingly.

"what?" You said as you weren't expecting this answer AT ALL.

"what are you wearing right now?"

"huh.."

"hun are you deaf or something?"

Only if you knew who was standing in the doorway right now with a big grin on his face..

"uhmm.., just-uh just a sweater.. and um..shorts?" You said a little confused

"oooo are they short?"

"what?"

"the shorts dumbass, are they??"

You started to giggle about what she was saying, thinking it was funny nonsense you played along

"yeah quite a bit" you said laughing

"and what color?"

"red silk"

"SILK?! U'RE TELLING ME YOU WENT TO EDIE'S MUNSONS HOUSE WITH RED SILK SHORTS THAT BARELY COVER YOUR ASS AND YOU SAY IM TALKING NONSENSE?" She was screaming and laughing her ass off

I was also laughing uncontrollably, at the thought of her face rn

"oh poor Eddie, only if he knew what was happening in his bathroom right know and what view he's missing out on" lauren taunted

"he's not missing anything special I'll tell you that, just me and cleaning supplies" you said, smiling

"oh yeah right" Lauren scoffed

"alright go get em tiger my mom's calling me downstairs, call ya later" Lauren quickly said

"byeee" you said with a small giggle

The call ended, as lauren put her phone down you still holding yours. You slowly straightened out as your back was aching a little, from being bent for this long.

You turned around, obviously not expecting anyone there and you screamed seeing Eddie standing there not even noticing the big smirk on this man's face

"whoa, didn't mean to scare you there" he said warmly, catching the phone you had dropped in terror

"oh my fucking god Eddie, i almost shit my pants, don't scare me like that" you said catching a breath

"you mean your shorts" he said giggling

Realization suddenly hit you, face turning red and shyness kicking in.

"uhm exactly how long have you been standing there" you said, shocked you even got that sentence out of your mouth

"oh y'know just enough"

You wanted to slap that cheesy grin off of his face so bad but you felt so flustered at the same time seeing his bare chest covered in those tattoos of his

"you're staring, sweetheart" he said noticing I was already blushing just to taunt me more

"what are you doing up so early anyways?" You questioned looking confused

"just wanted to thank you before you ran off" he stepped a little closer

You could feel your anxiety and overthinking kicking in

"uhm well.. no need to be thanked" you quickly slid past him with an awkward anxious smile

"i should get going anyways"

You were talking so fast it almost felt like rambling, he can tell you were nervous, good job making it so obvious y/n : you thought to yourself

"wait, princess" he grabbed your arm to face him

Now you were eye to eye....

-----------------------------------------

Hope you guys liked a little dive in into my storyline i have planned out, let me know is it even good to continue on with part 2?!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things #best friend #eddie the freak munson #eddie x reader #fanfic

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neednothavehappenedtobetrue · 2 years

Text

another story about contempt and grief that I started and don't feel like finishing. this one is rather grim, about Elizabeth having a very bad time. there are guns in it and a lot of dead people.

They send the man who murdered your husband to bring your meals, mostly soups and pasta from a chain that must be nearby.

For a while, they sent the woman with the cruel mouth, or she sent herself, possibly. The power structure of this organization is not clear to you. For a while, you refused to eat, and she fed you, but when you bit her, she stopped coming.

She sent the man who murdered your husband instead. He does not have the demeanor of a man sending himself. He is a vicious dog of a man, or a dog capable of viciousness, though he does not treat you with anything but politeness.

He brought you antibiotics, which you badly needed, and Tylenol for your fever. He cleaned you up. He helped you to the toilet.

You hate him, obviously, but in a dull and distant way you are glad to see him when he comes. You are eating voluntarily again, taking your pills with no fuss. You are not sure what will happen to you next. Surely they will not keep you in this room forever. You are not afraid of the future. It could probably get worse than the present, long stretches alone in a dark room, punctuated by meals and some conversation with the man that murdered your husband.

The woman with the cruel mouth never responded to a word you said to her, but Cole talks to you. His name is Cole. He told you that, when you asked.

He will not tell you much about the world beyond your grim basement cell, what is happening politically or socially. There are still fast-casual chain restaurants, so you imagine a good deal of infrastructure has survived the coup.

Once he comes down with wet hair and you ask him if it's raining. He says yes.

"One of those spring storms?"

He nods absently, which places you somewhere in, you'd guess, early May. You're nearly sure April has passed, unless your sense of time has been thoroughly shattered by this place. There are no days down here, just darkness.

When he comes, he carries you like a doll from bed to toilet to bed again. He dressed you carelessly in clean clothes, once, some time ago, after your old ones got filthy. You dislike him touching you, but not as much as you feel you should.

"How many people have you killed?" you asked once, just looking for something he might answer.

"One hundred and seven," he answered you. You doubt he is making up the number.

"Anyone else I might know?"

He does not answer that. You wonder who else is dead.

Your daughter, he says, is safe in a home. He will not tell you one more word about that, about whose home. He supposes she's in school. Children are innocent, he says.

You hope she is being kept safe, somewhere better than this basement. You pray she is somewhere with lights. She was afraid of the dark when you both first got here, but stopped mentioning it after a few... days? After a while.

The woman with the cruel mouth used to speak to Cassie sometimes. That was the worst part of this whole thing, probably. You are sick with terror for your little daughter, but it is hard to imagine they've put her somewhere worse than this.

"Is she in the dark?" you ask Cole once.

"Of course not," he says, like he's mildly offended by the question. "Children are innocent."

You think he believes this. It comforts you, just a tiny bit.

There are no lights in your cell. Cole tried a light switch a few times, but it came to nothing. It is dark and rank in here.

You have a fever for a while, but it breaks with the antibiotics. Cole stops giving you Tylenol after the fever breaks, which is a shame because the pain in your muscles was worse than the fever. Won't kill you, though.

Sometimes you scream and swear at him. He is indifferent to this.

You ask him whatever questions you can think of, just to hear a human voice. "Do you like dogs?" "Did you like school?" "Do you listen to music?"

Yes, he likes dogs. No, he disliked school. "I think everybody likes music," he says.

"We had a German Shepherd. His name was Achilles."

"I know."

"What happened to him?"

"I don't know."

"He was such a sweet dog. Loved Cassie. Cassie likes school. She likes to read. She likes science."

He listens indifferently to you, but you can tell he is hearing you, at least. He looks at you like he's listening. The cruel woman did not speak to you or look at you. It was like talking to a knife.

If you had anything at all anymore, you would give it up for a radio, for something to break the quiet in here. You have nothing and he does not give you anything.

There is a long period, more than a day, you think, where he does not come at all, where nobody comes. You sit on the bed, in clothes that have gone filthy again. You sleep. You dream you are out in the world, or that people are down here with you, but neither of those things is ever true. When you wake up, here you are, alone.

You wonder if there has been a counter-coup, if this man and his people have been put down, out of power. If the world has been set to rights again. That's why nobody is coming for you. The people who put you down here have all been locked up. It is comforting, even if it means you will die thirsty. You are very thirsty now.

***

Three people come thudding down the stairs. Are you dreaming? It is hard to tell.

"We've got you, Elizabeth," says one of the men.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Max. My friends here and Luke and Annabeth." He scoops you up bodily without asking. He carries you up the steps. You cry out when he steps outside with you.

You are outside. It's sticky hot, late May or even June. You are so thirsty. It's dark, but there are streetlights and the light from the gas station across the street.

He puts you in the backseat of a car, an old, black car. The woman, Annabeth, holds a bottle of water to your lips. You take the bottle in your trembling hands and she steadies it for you. The third man drives.

"You're safe now," Max says. "As safe as we can make you, anyway. We're going on a plane to Canada. We'll have to keep you hidden for a while, but we can keep you a sight more comfortable than you were. Do you want a bath?"

"Yes, please. Where's Cassie?"

"Hard to say."

You would weep, but you're so spent that you can't. You watch the streetlights out the window, dazed.

You fall asleep for a while. They offer you a sandwich and a milkshake when you wake up. The milkshake is strawberry and honestly bad, but you are starving and it's novel, besides. Cole always brought you the same three things.

You watch the lights out the window of the airplane for a while, and then you sleep again.

It's June 8th, they say, 7:15 AM. You wake up on a bed with clean sheets. Max keeps up a steady monologue as he undresses you and helps you through a shower, gives you Tylenol and more food and a tall glass of apple juice.

"You're all right now. We'll keep you safe. We'll live and die for you. We'll make the world new, just like it was. Just trust me. Just trust me."

You trust him, at first. He and Annabeth and Luke are quite busy, so you are left alone in your room for long stretches. Someone comes in a few times a day to feed you and wheel you down the hall to the bathroom.

Usually, this task is left to Annabeth. You don't mind her so much. She speaks to you. She prefers cats to dogs. She didn't do well in school. She likes music. She brings you an old, dumb device with a few albums loaded on it, two classical, three pop, one country. Sometimes she takes it away to charge and brings it back with new music on it. Your little room does not have a window, but she lets you leave the light on, even at night. When she takes you to the bathroom, sometimes she lets you sit for a while and look out the window at a leafy tree.

She cannot take you outside, she says. You are still a fugitive, deep in hiding, and recognizable.

Max is busier and comes more rarely to do your personal care. He tells you about the world, and a little about his work, but not very much. Need-to-know, he says. Things are dire in the world, schools and hospitals collapsing, power outages. He is thorough with your care, brushing your hair and running you through passive stretches. He always seems to be touching you when he is with you. You are used to being touched, to being helped, but it is beginning to grate.

It does not occur to you to mistrust them right away. You are too busy negotiating the bounds of your life. You have been rescued, but it is not safe for anyone to see you, so you must stay in this windowless room. You have been rescued, but you would be tracked if you used a tablet, so you can't have one. The supply chain is fucked, anyway, and there are no tablets for you, not even ones disconnected from the internet.

"You're a little bored?" Max asks. He is in one of his moods. "People are dying every day, Elizabeth. People like you are dying especially fast. Do you know how lucky you are that we found you?"

You wheedle Annabeth. A book, a newspaper.

"The news is just upsetting. You're better off without it."

"A novel, then."

"I'll ask Max."

A novel never materializes. Instead, Max brings you into a new room where you speak to a camera. You announce that you are safe and comfortable in Canada, doing well and trusting in the resistance to bring you home soon, to make home safe for you soon. The blinds are drawn in the study, but you can see rays of real sunlight streaming through the gaps. You are relieved to be able to do something helpful. Still.

"It's not safe for me to see a little sunlight, but it's safe to advertise that you have me?"

"It's necessary to let people know that you're safe and well."

"Is there any way you could bring me something to read?"

"I'll look into it. Give me your music box, it needs to charge."

Max flicks the light off as he leaves your little room. You are left alone in silent darkness again.

Soon, you and Max are fighting. You are irritable, ungrateful, paranoid. In his more magnanimous moments, you are sick and traumatized and irrational, but it's not your fault. They hurt you, those people in that basement.

No, of course they're not leaving you alone for longer stretches. They arrive like clockwork. (The power went out a few weeks ago and the clock in your room has not been reset yet).

"You have to trust me, Elizabeth. If I weren't trustworthy, you'd be dead. The regime wants you dead." Max is cold and flat. He brushes your hair gently. You are going longer between baths, except maybe you aren't. It's hard to mark time. He says you aren't, anyway.

Gunshots startle you out of what might have been sleep. You fall into weeping.

A gentle woman named Sophie comes to your little room. "Mrs. Thompson. You're safe now. We're getting you out of here."

You cannot stop crying, taking gulping breaths, tears streaming down your face. There are three other people in the car with you. It is night again. You hadn't known. Your time was broken. You can't stop crying.

"It's okay. You're safe," Sophie says.

You cannot tell her that they told you that, too. You cannot breathe to tell her.

"What's wrong with her?" the driver asks.

"God knows what they did to her," the man in the passenger seat says.

These people are the real deal, you are sure. You are sure most of the time. Sometimes you are seized with sick paranoia. But these people seem real. They say they saw your videos, but figured out that the cell you were with was a plant.

They give you newspapers. Apparently, you have been in Vermont this whole time, not Canada. They give you a tablet with news, books, whatever music you want. You almost don't care if you're safe. It doesn't matter. You have things with which to pass your days.

You are in a tiny house in Vermont now. They move you from room to room when you ask. There is light streaming in through all the windows. You can sit on the front porch sometimes with your tablet. The world is terrible and sometimes you are certain that this is another trick, sick with the certainty of it, but at least you have something to do.

They'll put you to work soon, they say, once they have the tech to make sure they're not tracked the way they tracked you the first time. They are patient, kind. You can tell you ramble. Sophie sits on the porch with you and listens to you ramble. Sometimes you weep for entire days, missing your daughter, your husband, Theo, your grandmother, your father, every friend you ever had, your dog.

"She's not exactly an asset," one of the men says within your hearing while you are on a crying jag.

"She will be," the other man says. "Give it time."

"That's not why we do this," Sophie says, even though you suspect that really is why.

***

Sophie and her cell were definitely a part of the real resistance. You know this because Cole shows up and kills Sophie. He scoops you up like a doll, the way he used to in the basement. Sophie screamed, and then there was a gunshot, and now there is no more of this kind woman who listened to you talk.

You are in a car again. It's daylight. You lean your head against the window. Cole drives. He drives for a long time.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"Does it matter?" he asks.

Then he parks in a lot. He hefts you easily over his shoulder and carries you for some time. You are in a park, on a hiking trail, and then off the beaten trail, still walking. It is very cold, October chill. He sets you down finally against a tree. He arranges your skirt decorously.

"I could shoot you," he says. "Those aren't my orders, but I could shoot you."

"What are your orders?"

'To leave you here. Nobody will find you this far out. You'll die of dehydration in a few days."

"I'd rather that, if you're giving me the choice."

"That's stupid. You think you'll be rescued and you won't. Exposure is a terrible way to die. I don't like it." He frowns down at you.

"I like the trees. I like the sunlight."

"You won't like them much after a few hours. It'll get dark. And colder."

"You phrased it like a question. I would prefer you didn't shoot me. Do as you're told."

"You won't be rescued."

"I suspect you're right about that. All the same."

"It's a cruel way to kill somebody, exposure."

"You've shot a hundred and seven people."

"More than that, now. And I would rather shoot you than leave you."

"Why don't you come back tomorrow and see if I change my mind?" It feels strange to you that a man like this, that this man who killed your husband, cares about cruelty. Even monsters have principles, you suppose.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

He unearths an itchy, woolen blanket from the backpack he's wearing and throws it over you. You almost thank him.

He leaves. He was right, it's very cold. Vermont in October. You feel like the cold will kill you before the dehydration will, but he seems like the sort of man who would know in which order things kill people. You try to hang on to the feeling of being cold, as miserable as it is. You think you read somewhere that when you stop feeling cold is when problems are setting in.

Sometimes, when you think you hear something, you yell for help for a while. It was probably just an animal, or the wind in the branches that you heard, though. Still, you yell.

Eventually, miraculously, you hear a dog barking. You are sure it is a dog. You scream. The dog comes to you, no human attached, although trailing a long leash.

"Come here, buddy. Come here! Yes, that's a good boy." You cling onto the dog, letting his big body warm your hands. He's a big dog, black and white, fluffy.

You hear a human calling for him "Bandit! Bandit!" You scream again. You cling with all of your strength to the dog, wrapping the fingers of your better hand around his collar.

A tall man finally comes looking for Bandit. "Ma'am? Are you all right?"

"No. My name is Elizabeth Thompson."

Recognition dawns on him. "God. Okay. We'll get you out of the cold. I might have a cousin who can help you. I'm not involved in that stuff, but I can't..."

"Please. I'm cold."

"Well, we can get you out of the cold."

He has to set you down a few times before he gets you back to his car, cranks the heat up. Your fingers hurt again something fierce. The dog lays on top of you in the car, keeping you warm.

***

Andrew who saved you has a cousin, also named Andrew, who is a peripheral member of a resistance group. You are passed furtively across the country. You watch states pass out the window.

You find you don't have as many words as you used to. You are too tired to cry. What will happen next?

You are in Oregon when Theo comes for you. Theo has Cassie and your father. Theo smuggles you to Canada. Theo is patient. Theo is kind. Theo holds you like they used to, before everything went to hell. Within three days, the four of you are in Canada, real Canada, with your real family, rebuilding a life.

This is when you discover that you are insane. You had your suspicions before, but it was hard to orient enough to be sure. Now, you are sure. You cannot stand darkness, being left alone, being touched by anyone but Theo. You ask the time over and over until they get you a watch. Sometimes you ask the time while looking at the watch, to confirm that Theo or Dad will tell you the truth. This is, you know, insane.

You have to rebuild yourself by molecules. The cruel woman and Cole and Max and even Annabeth disassembled you on purpose and left the pieces scattered. And the supply chain is fucked, so it's hard to get new pieces in.

You speak to a reporter and manage not to cry until he leaves. On the fifth attempt, you manage to release a statement to the public. You need to help the revolution. You need to make up for poor Sophie and her friends. Theo says this is false, that only Cole has those lives on his conscience, but your therapist says having goals will help you.

#you look like a photograph of yourself #guns for ts #murder for ts #astrology stories

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