Jackass

Connor shouldered the heavy crossbow.  He knew Daryl wasn’t joking that he wouldn’t get another shot with his precious weapon.  He wasn’t entirely sure how it was that he was able to get the hunter to even give him this little lesson on using the damn thing let alone hand it over to him.  Adjusting it the way that Daryl had shown him how, he guided the sight over towards the makeshift target they had set up.  This had to be perfect.  He couldn’t fuck this up in front of this man he had been watching for what felt like an eternity.  Taking a deep breath, he felt the hunter move closer, his body heat setting his own body on fire.  He knew that Daryl was just checking his sight line but he was horribly tempted to falter and step back, making their bodies collide, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere.  No, he had to get this shot lined up perfectly and hit his mark.  Surely that would at least earn him some respect if not maybe another chance with some private time with this enigma of a man and another crossbow lesson.

It was starting to get frustrating. Even though he considered Connor a friend, even if he had a storm of emotion that revolved around him, he couldn’t help from snapping. Get it right, or don’t flew across right in from memory, making him flinch, hiding it just in time as the moment came and went when Connor let loose another stray arrow, missing the target by what feels like a goddamn mile to Daryl. He sighed and then fixed Connor himself. 

His touch was oddly gentle, for a man who savored his personal space and then had to break it. His front was nearly touching Connor’s side, close enough that he could imagine the heat off of him, but he ignored it as well as he could, even if his own cheeks flushed from the proximity. He blamed it on the sun.

Within minutes, he was tearing back through the woods, several lengths of rope in his hands.  The different types of knots rolled through his head that he had painstakingly learned with his dear brother a willing participant.  When he saw the clearing, Connor stopped his run, trying to saunter back to Daryl, looking much more confident than he felt.  Daryl hadn’t much moved since he had left, turning to face him as he approached.  Connor shrugged with one shoulder, showing him the rope in his hands.  “Ye ready?”

He fiddles with an arrow between his hands, thinks of Connor, and wonders if there is another motive to keeping him out here. It could be silly hope that Daryl has that Connor wanted to spend more time with him, that maybe he felt something more than just friendship for him.

Then again, he’s seen that picture of him and his brother on occasions when the other thinks he isn’t looking over his shoulder. The resemblance is uncanny, and selfishly he hopes that Connor doesn’t stick around because he reminds him of Murphy.

He jumps when Connor arrives, looks at the rope in Connor’s hands, and then to his open face. Daryl bites his lip as he draws a little nearer, fiddling a little more with the arrow in nervousness. “What ya want me to do?”

Running his hands down the bareflesh of Daryl’s arms through the rope, his own body involuntarily reacted.  It had been so long, and everything about this hunter has made him want him from the time he wandered into camp, from the curve of his ass to his oft-times surly attitude.  Now he had this hunter here at his disposal, the other members of their group knowing better than to search for either of them while they were one  hunt lest they mistaken for prey or zombie.

Connor shouldered the heavy crossbow.  He knew Daryl wasn’t joking that he wouldn’t get another shot with his precious weapon.  He wasn’t entirely sure how it was that he was able to get the hunter to even give him this little lesson on using the damn thing let alone hand it over to him.  Adjusting it the way that Daryl had shown him how, he guided the sight over towards the makeshift target they had set up.  This had to be perfect.  He couldn’t fuck this up in front of this man he had been watching for what felt like an eternity.  Taking a deep breath, he felt the hunter move closer, his body heat setting his own body on fire.  He knew that Daryl was just checking his sight line but he was horribly tempted to falter and step back, making their bodies collide, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere.  No, he had to get this shot lined up perfectly and hit his mark.  Surely that would at least earn him some respect if not maybe another chance with some private time with this enigma of a man and another crossbow lesson.

It was starting to get frustrating. Even though he considered Connor a friend, even if he had a storm of emotion that revolved around him, he couldn’t help from snapping. Get it right, or don’t flew across right in from memory, making him flinch, hiding it just in time as the moment came and went when Connor let loose another stray arrow, missing the target by what feels like a goddamn mile to Daryl. He sighed and then fixed Connor himself. 

His touch was oddly gentle, for a man who savored his personal space and then had to break it. His front was nearly touching Connor’s side, close enough that he could imagine the heat off of him, but he ignored it as well as he could, even if his own cheeks flushed from the proximity. He blamed it on the sun.

Within minutes, he was tearing back through the woods, several lengths of rope in his hands.  The different types of knots rolled through his head that he had painstakingly learned with his dear brother a willing participant.  When he saw the clearing, Connor stopped his run, trying to saunter back to Daryl, looking much more confident than he felt.  Daryl hadn’t much moved since he had left, turning to face him as he approached.  Connor shrugged with one shoulder, showing him the rope in his hands.  “Ye ready?”

He fiddles with an arrow between his hands, thinks of Connor, and wonders if there is another motive to keeping him out here. It could be silly hope that Daryl has that Connor wanted to spend more time with him, that maybe he felt something more than just friendship for him.

Then again, he’s seen that picture of him and his brother on occasions when the other thinks he isn’t looking over his shoulder. The resemblance is uncanny, and selfishly he hopes that Connor doesn’t stick around because he reminds him of Murphy.

He jumps when Connor arrives, looks at the rope in Connor’s hands, and then to his open face. Daryl bites his lip as he draws a little nearer, fiddling a little more with the arrow in nervousness. “What ya want me to do?”

- no offense is meant by this meme, the guy who runs this blog himself is queer, they’re meant to be funny so enjoy :)

"Getting your dick sucked isn’t gay! Sucking dick is the gay part."

"Dude, no homo, but you look hot today."

"I mean, we kissed but not in a gay way."

Connor shouldered the heavy crossbow.  He knew Daryl wasn’t joking that he wouldn’t get another shot with his precious weapon.  He wasn’t entirely sure how it was that he was able to get the hunter to even give him this little lesson on using the damn thing let alone hand it over to him.  Adjusting it the way that Daryl had shown him how, he guided the sight over towards the makeshift target they had set up.  This had to be perfect.  He couldn’t fuck this up in front of this man he had been watching for what felt like an eternity.  Taking a deep breath, he felt the hunter move closer, his body heat setting his own body on fire.  He knew that Daryl was just checking his sight line but he was horribly tempted to falter and step back, making their bodies collide, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere.  No, he had to get this shot lined up perfectly and hit his mark.  Surely that would at least earn him some respect if not maybe another chance with some private time with this enigma of a man and another crossbow lesson.

It was starting to get frustrating. Even though he considered Connor a friend, even if he had a storm of emotion that revolved around him, he couldn’t help from snapping. Get it right, or don’t flew across right in from memory, making him flinch, hiding it just in time as the moment came and went when Connor let loose another stray arrow, missing the target by what feels like a goddamn mile to Daryl. He sighed and then fixed Connor himself. 

His touch was oddly gentle, for a man who savored his personal space and then had to break it. His front was nearly touching Connor’s side, close enough that he could imagine the heat off of him, but he ignored it as well as he could, even if his own cheeks flushed from the proximity. He blamed it on the sun.

Within minutes, he was tearing back through the woods, several lengths of rope in his hands.  The different types of knots rolled through his head that he had painstakingly learned with his dear brother a willing participant.  When he saw the clearing, Connor stopped his run, trying to saunter back to Daryl, looking much more confident than he felt.  Daryl hadn’t much moved since he had left, turning to face him as he approached.  Connor shrugged with one shoulder, showing him the rope in his hands.  “Ye ready?”

He fiddles with an arrow between his hands, thinks of Connor, and wonders if there is another motive to keeping him out here. It could be silly hope that Daryl has that Connor wanted to spend more time with him, that maybe he felt something more than just friendship for him.

Then again, he’s seen that picture of him and his brother on occasions when the other thinks he isn’t looking over his shoulder. The resemblance is uncanny, and selfishly he hopes that Connor doesn’t stick around because he reminds him of Murphy.

He jumps when Connor arrives, looks at the rope in Connor’s hands, and then to his open face. Daryl bites his lip as he draws a little nearer, fiddling a little more with the arrow in nervousness. “What ya want me to do?”

Connor shouldered the heavy crossbow.  He knew Daryl wasn’t joking that he wouldn’t get another shot with his precious weapon.  He wasn’t entirely sure how it was that he was able to get the hunter to even give him this little lesson on using the damn thing let alone hand it over to him.  Adjusting it the way that Daryl had shown him how, he guided the sight over towards the makeshift target they had set up.  This had to be perfect.  He couldn’t fuck this up in front of this man he had been watching for what felt like an eternity.  Taking a deep breath, he felt the hunter move closer, his body heat setting his own body on fire.  He knew that Daryl was just checking his sight line but he was horribly tempted to falter and step back, making their bodies collide, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere.  No, he had to get this shot lined up perfectly and hit his mark.  Surely that would at least earn him some respect if not maybe another chance with some private time with this enigma of a man and another crossbow lesson.

It was starting to get frustrating. Even though he considered Connor a friend, even if he had a storm of emotion that revolved around him, he couldn’t help from snapping. Get it right, or don’t flew across right in from memory, making him flinch, hiding it just in time as the moment came and went when Connor let loose another stray arrow, missing the target by what feels like a goddamn mile to Daryl. He sighed and then fixed Connor himself. 

His touch was oddly gentle, for a man who savored his personal space and then had to break it. His front was nearly touching Connor’s side, close enough that he could imagine the heat off of him, but he ignored it as well as he could, even if his own cheeks flushed from the proximity. He blamed it on the sun.

Connor shouldered the heavy crossbow.  He knew Daryl wasn’t joking that he wouldn’t get another shot with his precious weapon.  He wasn’t entirely sure how it was that he was able to get the hunter to even give him this little lesson on using the damn thing let alone hand it over to him.  Adjusting it the way that Daryl had shown him how, he guided the sight over towards the makeshift target they had set up.  This had to be perfect.  He couldn’t fuck this up in front of this man he had been watching for what felt like an eternity.  Taking a deep breath, he felt the hunter move closer, his body heat setting his own body on fire.  He knew that Daryl was just checking his sight line but he was horribly tempted to falter and step back, making their bodies collide, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere.  No, he had to get this shot lined up perfectly and hit his mark.  Surely that would at least earn him some respect if not maybe another chance with some private time with this enigma of a man and another crossbow lesson.

It was starting to get frustrating. Even though he considered Connor a friend, even if he had a storm of emotion that revolved around him, he couldn't help from snapping. Get it right, or don't flew across right in from memory, making him flinch, hiding it just in time as the moment came and went when Connor let loose another stray arrow, missing the target by what feels like a goddamn mile to Daryl. He sighed and then fixed Connor himself. 

His touch was oddly gentle, for a man who savored his personal space and then had to break it. His front was nearly touching Connor's side, close enough that he could imagine the heat off of him, but he ignored it as well as he could, even if his own cheeks flushed from the proximity. He blamed it on the sun.

"Ah! Slower… I want it to last."

"Can you really just walk away from this? Maybe I’ve miscalculated this lingerie’s power after all."

"Come on, let’s do it all over again. Slower this time. I wanna feel you twitch/squirm."

"Do you like it? How much would you like it off of me?"

"Do you think there’s such thing as too much sex?"

"Do you think they heard us? Maybe we should give it a second round. Louder this time, just to be sure."

"Do you wanna call him/her? Maybe we could all have a little party together."

"Do you wanna cum? Ask me nicely."

"Don’t be gentle. I need all of it."

"Easy boy/girl. We have time."

"Fuck me. Fuck me like I do her/him."

"He/she doesn’t have to know."

"How much do you care about the safety of your desk?"

"I don’t care about your sob story. I just want your dick."

"I don’t care if they watch."

"I like your toys. Can I have them in me?”

"I might be straight but no one can overlook that ass."

"I’ll pay you anything, if you just give me one night."

"I’m a bad girl/boy. So treat me like one."

"I’ve agreed to be your roommate, not your booty call."

"I’ve had the worst day of my life and you fucking me/fucking you till we can’t walk straight is the only thing that’s gonna make it better.”

"I’ve waited so long for this. It’s even better than I imagined. You’re even better.”

"If I fucked you, would you leave me alone?"

"If I get on my knees and pray, will you absolve me?"

"If I’d known being with another girl/boy would be this fun I’d have started much sooner."

"If you call me by his/her name, we’re done here."

"If you just get in me right now you can even walk me on a leash later for all I care.”

"If you want me to keep quiet, don’t make me have to tell you to go faster."

"If you pull out, I swear I’m fucking killing you."

"Just close your eyes. Imagine I’m him/her. It couldn’t be hard. We are brothers/sisters after all."

"Just hold my hand if I thrash. Don’t stop."

"Let’s pretend I’m in heat. Just fuck me till I drop."

"Oh, you’re not getting anywhere near there. Not tonight."

"Oh no, you’re not sleeping. Not now. Sex first. Sleep later."

"Please don’t take your mouth from there."

"Pool sex was the worst idea we’ve ever had. Now fuck me right. I can’t do this soft thing."

"Shut up, let’s sleep. You can do your walk of shame later."

"So you’re at work, you’ve got bathrooms there too, don’t you?"

"That was… Wow."

"They’re amazing. I could suck on them forever."

"Was this what you wanted? Well you can collect it now."

"What if we get caught? I don’t care, do you?"

"You won’t get another shot at this. So make it good."

"You. Strip. Now."

"Your fingers are almost as good as your mouth.”