dirty thoughts

Right? I try not to feel pessimistic about these things, but I've been feeling very... smothered lately by life. Everything is difficult, everything is inaccessible, and then when I want to complain about it, I feel as though I'm acting entitled. Idk, it's been a weird couple years and I just feel a lot of chafing at the bit and I don't know really where to direct that energy. All I know is I'm sitting here feeling more and more unsettled and isolated and that's just life or something?

View of a town skyline at dusk in the winter, with the J&B Blended Scotch Whiskey logo superimposed on the picture. A flock of sheep walks from left to right, making baaa sounds, their bells jangling. Some Christmas lights with a star are strung along some telephone poles on the left side of the frame.

Cut to the inside of a house where an older man with white hair is sitting in an armchair reading a paper. His wife comes in and puts her handbag on the side table. She’s on the phone, and quickly moves into another room. A lipstick rolls out of the bag. The older man surreptitiously picks up the lipstick, then sneaks into the bathroom, locks the door, and attempts to apply the lipstick. He is not pleased with the results. He wipes off the lipstick and hides it in a small makeup bag on top of the bathroom mirror cabinet.

Elvis Costello’s song “She” begins to play when the wife walks in, and it plays throughout the video. The first line of the song is “She may be the face I can’t forget,” and as the video goes on we learn why this song is significant to the story being told by the ad.

The older man goes to a small store and buys more makeup. The female shopkeeper gives him an unfriendly glare when he pays for his purchase.

The old man looks at a magazine in his home. He tears out a page about makeup and goes back into the bathroom to experiment with the eyeshadow he bought earlier. He tries the lipstick again and adds some rouge. The result is better, but he’s not quite satisfied.

The man goes to a bus stop. Inside the bus shelter, he minutely examines the eye makeup on the model in an ad on the shelter wall. He jumps away from the ad when another man enters the shelter and sits down. The other man doesn’t seem to have noticed what the older man was doing.

Back in the bathroom, the man experiments with mascara. He likes the result. He puts the lipstick on again, and likes this too. Someone knocks on the door, so he hurriedly wipes off the makeup and hides the makeup bag again.

Scene cuts to the living room, where the man sits in his chair reading the newspaper. He looks over at some family photos. One of them shows the man with his arm around a teenager with short, dark hair.

Scene then cuts to the man’s bedroom. It’s nighttime, and he’s in bed with his sleeping wife. The man sneaks out of bed and back into the bathroom. He puts on all the kinds of makeup he bought: lipstick, rouge, mascara, eyeshadow. He looks at himself in the mirror, all made up, and smiles. Now he’s got it right.

The next day, the man is in his living room, where he hears a car honk outside. He goes and looks out the window. Outside is a group of people greeting each other in the driveway; they are an extended family, and apparently have just arrived at the older man’s house. One of the family members is a young man with short, dark hair. Text superimposed on the screen reads “Alvaro, 26 años,” indicating the name and age of the young man. The scene cuts back inside, where the older man comes away from the window, looking thoughtful.

The family sets the table for Christmas dinner, putting out plates and silverware and lighting candles. The older man goes to Alvaro and gestures with his head. “Come with me.” They go into the bathroom. The older man locks the door, then proceeds to put the makeup on Alvaro with much love and tenderness. The older man is happy with the way Alvaro looks. Alvaro is pleased, too.

Cut back to the dining room, where the rest of the family is laughing and talking together. Conversation suddenly stops and people look up, surprised. The grandfather ushers his grandchild out of the bathroom. She stands nervously in front of her family, her face beautifully done. The family pause, then start to smile. The camera goes close on a man with greying hair and beard. He seems overcome with happy emotion, and seems to be the grandchild’s father.

The camera goes back close on the grandchild, who looks shyly at her family. The name and age superimposed now read “Ana, 26 años.”

A woman with greying short hair stands up and goes to Ana. This apparently is Ana’s mom. She gives Ana a big hug. The mom is crying with happiness and love, and smiles at the grandfather through her tears. The grandfather blinks and seems shy but pleased.

The camera pulls back to show everyone at the table again. The grandfather is standing and leading a toast. Superimposed text reads “La magia no solo está en la Navidad. También está en nosotros.” (The magic isn’t only in Christmas. It’s also in us.)

A series of short close shots. Ana happily raises her glass with everyone else. The grandfather takes his wife’s hand and kisses it. Ana’s dad takes a sip of his whiskey, then Ana’s grandmother goes over and gives Ana a big hug.

There’s a brief shot of a bottle of J&B whiskey, which is on the table with the other dinner things, then the scene cuts to show the grandfather looking at Ana and raising his glass to her, smiling. Ana raises her glass to her grandfather and smiles at him.

Final shot is the J&B logo on a black background with the text “de celebrarnos” (to celebrate us).

I do not know how to explain how fucking impossible that would have seemed to me twenty years ago when I just realized that possibly, maybe, I wasn’t straight. I cannot explain to you how amazing this is, and how beautiful it is. 

Hahaha, thank you, thank you. I try not to write on reblogs like that so the original poster doesn't have to see the heinous shit that I get up to, but I just couldn't help myself with that one. There was something about the way it hit that had the inspiration immediately firing in my brain. Something about the grainy image quality and the dutch angle that made it feel very voyueristic.

And you know what, I had not considered that at all, but I actually looooove it. You know I love my gremlin Stiles and the idea that people keep trying to be embarrassed or humiliated for him and he just uno reverses it by being really turned on and getting off to it instead? So stupid and funny and horny and exactly the energy I like to imagine he brings to a lot of his interactions. Just like, you can't slut shame me if I'm too slutty to dislike it. :P

Also it would feed into my need to make that particular AU as messy as possible. Giving him this backstory of embracing fetish to deal with bullying? Ooooh the potential for that to just be wells and wells of unresolved angst. Him unintentionally teaching himself that sex is a good coping mechanism and he can just fuck his way through his problems instead of addressing them.

Probably still feeling like he's constantly trying to prove himself to his dad, who he feels very isolated from. Never having really resolved the rift between him and Scott-- his only really stable and fulfilling relationship in the past just being used for tinder in raunchy sexcapades that he doubts Scott would ever admit to engaging in. Most likely having an extremely toxic non-relationship with Jackson that whole time. Trying so hard to date him and get close to him and foster something private between them, but Jackson was just not ready to fully come out of the closet, let alone love and accept himself enough to be able to send any of that back to a partner. So instead they just had a lot of hatesex and screaming matches and unfair promises and sometimes he still sends Stiles dickpics and sometimes Stiles still responds to them.

So when he gets to college he feels liberated, but if anything he's just a more manic mess and no one is close enough to him to realize that he's getting a little bit out of control and spiraling. Hence the regular blackout drinking at parties and the loads of unsafe sex and the desire to chase after familiar dynamics even if he knows they're bad for him overall.

So when Derek steps in and so clearly is bringing so many of his own issues to the table, it's catnip to this self destructive tendency that Stiles has. And he can't help pushing and pushing and pushing and wanting more and more. He knows Derek needs more time or space or help and stability, but he just can't give that. All he has is sex and his neediness and so he just bleeds that into their volatile energy.

Also yes okay, yes to all of this. People definitely grow apart and it's natural but for someone who lost his mom young and whose dad fell into a bottle and work trying to deal with it and kinda left him abandoned, added on to be different (Polish name, ADHD, clingy) and having virtually no friends because of that like...of course he's going to end up taking it a lot harder when Scott starts to make other friends and he feels left out or behind. Nevermind the intimate ways they "practiced" with each other despite that brotherly feeling.

And lord yes, him and Jackson just having the most toxic and damaging non-relationship relationship where there's this constant push/pull between them because Jackson definitely needs and craves having Stiles desire him and be available for him but he's also too damaged himself to actually deal with that in any healthy way or admit that he needs to feel wanted. And then of course there's that side where he knows that the entire team and probably half the school at this point know what Stiles has been doing as their waterboy and he cannot handle anyone thinking he could possibly enjoy that in any real way, so of course it turns him into a massive douche. And then there's Stiles, needing to feel that intimacy and connection and being so lonely inside but unable to really articulate that to anyone who actually cares for him, so he's just taking what he can get and then lashing back when Jackson pushes him away, but still always giving in when he's hit up yet again to hook up. And he's definitely the one who cares the least about how many people see them screaming in each other's faces so it just drives that wedge between what they want and what is happening even further. I'd reckon the only reason they stop their whatever is because Jackson leaves for collegiate sports training a month before Stiles leaves for campus and there's no real time left to go ahead and keep this shit up. But that's also when Scott leaves and if Stiles felt that rift of abandonment before, it's even worse now. I imagine that's when he starts getting riskier with his behavior. Like, sure, he engaged in some very kinky shit in HS with Jackson and the team but that was still people he knew, now it's strangers at whatever club will take his fake ID or off whatever kinky hookup app he manages to try next and he definitely convinces himself this is just him being free of he bullshit even though it's still reaction to feeling so alone.

And you know how much I love seeing you work. You just get what's the raunchy, ridiculous fun bits and what are the emotional, hurty bits and how much you need to pull at both strings-- often simultaneously.

One day between the two of us maybe there will be enough for us to just flesh it out a little more and have a fully realized fic lmao.

Hahaha, thank you, thank you. I try not to write on reblogs like that so the original poster doesn't have to see the heinous shit that I get up to, but I just couldn't help myself with that one. There was something about the way it hit that had the inspiration immediately firing in my brain. Something about the grainy image quality and the dutch angle that made it feel very voyueristic.

And you know what, I had not considered that at all, but I actually looooove it. You know I love my gremlin Stiles and the idea that people keep trying to be embarrassed or humiliated for him and he just uno reverses it by being really turned on and getting off to it instead? So stupid and funny and horny and exactly the energy I like to imagine he brings to a lot of his interactions. Just like, you can't slut shame me if I'm too slutty to dislike it. :P

Also it would feed into my need to make that particular AU as messy as possible. Giving him this backstory of embracing fetish to deal with bullying? Ooooh the potential for that to just be wells and wells of unresolved angst. Him unintentionally teaching himself that sex is a good coping mechanism and he can just fuck his way through his problems instead of addressing them.

Probably still feeling like he's constantly trying to prove himself to his dad, who he feels very isolated from. Never having really resolved the rift between him and Scott-- his only really stable and fulfilling relationship in the past just being used for tinder in raunchy sexcapades that he doubts Scott would ever admit to engaging in. Most likely having an extremely toxic non-relationship with Jackson that whole time. Trying so hard to date him and get close to him and foster something private between them, but Jackson was just not ready to fully come out of the closet, let alone love and accept himself enough to be able to send any of that back to a partner. So instead they just had a lot of hatesex and screaming matches and unfair promises and sometimes he still sends Stiles dickpics and sometimes Stiles still responds to them.

So when he gets to college he feels liberated, but if anything he's just a more manic mess and no one is close enough to him to realize that he's getting a little bit out of control and spiraling. Hence the regular blackout drinking at parties and the loads of unsafe sex and the desire to chase after familiar dynamics even if he knows they're bad for him overall.

So when Derek steps in and so clearly is bringing so many of his own issues to the table, it's catnip to this self destructive tendency that Stiles has. And he can't help pushing and pushing and pushing and wanting more and more. He knows Derek needs more time or space or help and stability, but he just can't give that. All he has is sex and his neediness and so he just bleeds that into their volatile energy.

Also yes okay, yes to all of this. People definitely grow apart and it's natural but for someone who lost his mom young and whose dad fell into a bottle and work trying to deal with it and kinda left him abandoned, added on to be different (Polish name, ADHD, clingy) and having virtually no friends because of that like...of course he's going to end up taking it a lot harder when Scott starts to make other friends and he feels left out or behind. Nevermind the intimate ways they "practiced" with each other despite that brotherly feeling.

And lord yes, him and Jackson just having the most toxic and damaging non-relationship relationship where there's this constant push/pull between them because Jackson definitely needs and craves having Stiles desire him and be available for him but he's also too damaged himself to actually deal with that in any healthy way or admit that he needs to feel wanted. And then of course there's that side where he knows that the entire team and probably half the school at this point know what Stiles has been doing as their waterboy and he cannot handle anyone thinking he could possibly enjoy that in any real way, so of course it turns him into a massive douche. And then there's Stiles, needing to feel that intimacy and connection and being so lonely inside but unable to really articulate that to anyone who actually cares for him, so he's just taking what he can get and then lashing back when Jackson pushes him away, but still always giving in when he's hit up yet again to hook up. And he's definitely the one who cares the least about how many people see them screaming in each other's faces so it just drives that wedge between what they want and what is happening even further. I'd reckon the only reason they stop their whatever is because Jackson leaves for collegiate sports training a month before Stiles leaves for campus and there's no real time left to go ahead and keep this shit up. But that's also when Scott leaves and if Stiles felt that rift of abandonment before, it's even worse now. I imagine that's when he starts getting riskier with his behavior. Like, sure, he engaged in some very kinky shit in HS with Jackson and the team but that was still people he knew, now it's strangers at whatever club will take his fake ID or off whatever kinky hookup app he manages to try next and he definitely convinces himself this is just him being free of he bullshit even though it's still reaction to feeling so alone.

The straps are stretched out and the ribbed pouch has started to pill and without even picking it up he can smell it from here. Miscellaneous stains that could be sweat, could be piss, could be cum. He has no way of knowing.

Jackson is fighting a smirk, but his lips keep twitching and Stiles looks to Scott, but his eyes are just cast to the floor, obviously uncomfortable and outnumbered. Stiles is humiliated, but more than that he’s aroused. He bounces back and forth on his feet in front of his classmates, wondering if that’s the point or if he pops a stiffie in this, that they might gang up on him.

The only thing he knows he can’t do is turn around and go back home, tail between his legs. The guys would never let him live it down and he doesn’t think that he would survive seeing his dad’s face break when he realizes that his boy was just being bullied. Again.

He licks his lips and finally just shrugs, undressing as they all stare at him. There’s wolf whistles and crowing when he drops his briefs and they see his unkempt bush and notably small cock. The more they stare, the more it twitches and Jackson’s staring at him like a wolf trying to be patient before it pounces. Practically licking his chops. Cheers and claps ring out every time it twitches enough to bounce and Stiles puts the jack on before he even reaches for the jock, giving them more time and space to drink him in.

When he does grab it, he turns around to bend over and put it on, flashing his grungy, pink teen boy hole at the crowd. Some guys groan, others laugh. Some still are stonily silent in the most incriminating way. Including Scott. Stiles feels wrong showing off to him like this. Scott is practically his brother. But there’s also an illicit thrill to it.

The memories of them as sticky kids playing in the mud. The ghost of all their sleepovers. That unaddressed tension when they hit puberty and Stiles got caught looking, Scott started going on dates, their friend groups started separating. It feels taboo to spread for him, to invite him to stare, to feel arousal when he does.

When Stiles turns back around, he adjusts himself in the pouch for them, lets them see him rubbing the musk of the well-worn fabric into his own groin. Jackson elbows his way to the front and sneers, ever spurred on by the idea of someone else finding confidence. “Alright water boy, time for your first watering.”

He grabs Stiles by the shoulders and pushes him to his knees, fishes his own cock. It’s actually nothing to write home about either. Perhaps longer, but certainly thinner. His pubes are manicured and his nutsack tight, but Stiles can see it fattening at just the prospect of getting to do this. Whether or not it was the other boys’ intention, he sees through whatever veneer Jackson tries to maintain.

So he looks up at the other boy, eyes dark, and smirks before opening his mouth, sticking out his tongue as far as he can manage. He lets drool drip off of it, puts his hands dutifully behind his back and lets a flush travel to his face. He mewls for it, brows knitting, and watches as Jackson gets hard enough at the sight of it, that he struggles to start his stream.

His face screws up in concentration, he changes his weight from foot to foot, stance widening. The boys behind him jeer, ask what’s taking so long, and he has to bark back at them as he shakes his dick, trying to get it to operate how he wants. He closes his eyes for a second and a thin fart peels out to the dismay of the crowd, but the stream finally starts up.

It’s spattering and thin at first, but he gains confidence and pushes, soaking Stiles in the splash. He opens his eyes again to grin, with teeth. Stiles looks past him to see Scott staring, eyes shining, hunched over himself to try and hide his own tenting bulge. Stiles feels feral. He feels betrayed and blissful and angry and lewd. So he catches his best friend’s eyes and winks at him before leaning into it, catching Jackson’s cockhead in his mouth and gulping at the deluge.

Boys clatter against the lockers. Scott starts leaking spunk down his legs. Jackson yelps then groans, reaching forward to take a handful of Stiles’ hair and grind into him. His shorts fall down past his flat, freckled ass and the whole team has to watch as he loses any semblance of control, any illusion this was hazing, and just starts fucking Stiles’ face with abandon.

His back dimples and his ass clenches and he stands on his tip toes as he moans and cums down Stiles’ throat– their queer affair made public for everyone in the school to see. Stiles pulls off of him with a pop and a smack. He laps his cock clean, snuffles at his now sweaty balls, and leans back on his knees to let everyone see him rub the piss into his skin– show off the cum cupped on his tongue.

He pinches his nipples and drinks his load and gropes his bulge and asks if anyone else needs to use him. There’s a tense silence for a moment before a line forms. They’ve only got a half hour before they’re supposed to be on field, and it seems the guys were saving up for him.

A lot of this concept intrigues me, but something about the drug use just really hit a squick zone in my brain, despite the ultimately consensual nature of them, sorry! I'm pretty sensitive to that kind of stuff coming from a family of addicts so I don't like engaging with it very much.

Idk if you've ever heard of the system of lines and veils, but it's a definite veil for me. I don't mind if it's something that happens off screen or just acknowledged in fiction, but to engage with a narrative that's centered on it, just doesn't work for me.

I also don't tend to enjoy manipulation in that way either. I think it was meant to be innocuous-- coming from a young Derek and being incredibly obvious-- but it still rubbed me the wrong way.

A lot of this concept intrigues me, but something about the drug use just really hit a squick zone in my brain, despite the ultimately consensual nature of them, sorry! I'm pretty sensitive to that kind of stuff coming from a family of addicts so I don't like engaging with it very much.

Idk if you've ever heard of the system of lines and veils, but it's a definite veil for me. I don't mind if it's something that happens off screen or just acknowledged in fiction, but to engage with a narrative that's centered on it, just doesn't work for me.

I also don't tend to enjoy manipulation in that way either. I think it was meant to be innocuous-- coming from a young Derek and being incredibly obvious-- but it still rubbed me the wrong way.

Well I think the starting point is a prompt fill that I did a while back and have just kind of kept ruminating on more and more and fleshed into a space where it's a regular thing I sort of daydream about. :P I can't remember what the original prompt exactly was, but I wrote about a Derek who was very buttoned up and shy and reserved. One of those situations where he's so repressed and nervous about meeting up to the expectations of everyone around him that he's terribly meek and kind of unappealing to a lot of those he surrounds himself with because of course super ambitious people hate the quiet and the nervous types.

Anyway to appease his parents and society in general he just married the first girl that seemed like it made the most sense. Usually I try to keep to source material and not erase his or Stiles' bi-ness, but in this one I just imagine him struggling so much to "perform" with her. And maybe he still is bi, she just intimidates him too much or he's too repressed to enjoy any sex period. It doesn't have to be a "he wants a man" thing, but either way he's basically never made either of them cum and the more she berates him for it the worse it gets.

He's humiliated to have to go to fertility clinics and ask about what might be wrong with him. At that point he's so shoved down that he doesn't even realize it for himself. Which just makes him so much more pathetic to everyone who behind his back is murmuring about how his wife married a thin voiced queer. But he genuinely thinks he must have some sort of sexual disorder or growth on his prostate or something and his wife also pushes the idea for her own sanity and their image.

So he spends months and months, maybe even years going to specialists and paying for expensive tests and trying all these things to try to please her and give her a child and he just can't do it. And he reaches this despondent state where he thinks he'll do pretty much anything. So without her knowing he starts looking up alternatives. Not necessarily licensed and above the board ones.

He thinks maybe he'll just buy some questionable pills from a black market, but he's not actually ready to risk his life yet. Somehow he ends up at a password locked site for this "homeopathic clinic". Once he gets in it's Stiles' little operation that he's basically running in a garage on the back of his property on the preserve.

Derek is really skeptical about it, but he's desperate, so he schedules a consultation. The guy has fucking glowing reviews and he doesn't want to admit it, but reading the testimonials and watching the lurid videos posted to his page were starting to turn him on.

The whole thing is like Goop mixed with reiki mixed with stoner mysticism and straight up porn all over the top. Stiles has this bio on his page claiming he went to medical school and found it all to be bullshit meant to peddle pharmaceuticals and then to find himself he dropped out and went back packing across his homeland. There he visited real healers and watched dulas work and found out the way fertility was always meant to be treated.

Homey and down to earth and simple and sensual. In his picture he's got grungy facial hair and a tank top that's practically just strings. He's too young to possibly be so educated, but he guarantees satisfaction or money back and Derek has to admit there's something that just feels right about this kid.

So he uses a card he keeps secret from his wife to buy a slot, makes up an excuse of being late at work to go. When he pulls up he has cold feet. Seeing it's really just a bootleg set up, that he's legitimately just going to some guy's house to get his dick looked at. But he won't get the refund if he doesn't at least go through with it, so he just runs with it.

Inside Stiles is wearing flip flops and his feet stink and he's eating a sandwich next to the examination table. He's got ska music on low and incense burning and what little equipment he does have looks like it belongs more in a farm house than a hospital. But Derek just imagines himself finally knocking her up, finally making everyone happy, finally getting some breathing room.

He undresses and sits on the table and puts his feet in stirrups. His hair is all nicely coiffed and he has immaculately clean horn rims and his body hair has all been buzzed to a level burr. She calls him wild all the time. Tells him he's worse than a dog. Hairy and stinking and messy. Seems like she doesn't even like when he tries to touch her. One time he tried to wax it all, look more like she wanted and she made him sleep in the guest room, told him he emasculated himself.

It was hard to keep up with. The unprofessionalism continues as Stiles runs bare hands up his shins and strokes his knees while openly staring at the fat hang of his junk, humming as he licks the oils and vinegars from his sandwich off his chin. Derek shivers and his cock fattens a little and that makes him all the more nervous.

Anyway this was supposed to be a recap of last time on and new material, but I guess I'm just retreading old ground now. Long story short Stiles goes on and on about getting back to his primal self and the way studs are supposed to be. His examination consists of sniffing Derek's armpits and playing with his foreskin and rubbing thumbs against his hole.

Asking him when the last time he jerked off was and what porn he likes and if he could fuck anyone or anything what would it be? Derek feels mortified and swindled and so out of his element. The sexual creature inside him banging at the bars of the cage he keeps it in. He keeps telling himself he's not like that.

He doesn't have kinks. He doesn't masturbate. He doesn't have fantasies. He's a grown man with a family and responsibilities. At some point he says the appointment is over and sweeps up his clothes and goes to leave, but when he gets outside and it's raining and he pauses and feels the water soaking his hair and the mud dirtying his feet and smells the air crisp and wild, he just feels something in him creak open.

And he storms back in and Stiles was just waiting for him with a dumb little smile. And he asks Derek if he wants to be shown that he is a stud and he can cum. And Derek fitfully nods. So Stiles lays him back on the table and gets naked with him and this is certainly not professional at all, but he starts licking Derek and stroking him and riding him.

Derek tries to stammer that he's married, that this doesn't seem right. But Stiles just picks up his hand and examines his ring, clenches around his dick and asks if he wants to be fertile or not. Derek shakes and doesn't answer so Stiles sucks his ring finger and slides the wedding band off with his tongue.

Derek moans and it sounds so foreign and alluring to him and he watches as Stiles spits his ring to the floor and then fucks him so good he's scrabbling at the examination table and howling and nutting for the first time since he was a teenager and he had a wet dream in his bed and his parent's shouted at him for what felt like hours as he shook, cold and sticky and ashamed. Telling him he wouldn't be a filthy little cretin like that, have some respectability.

When he comes down Stiles is humming and licking his filthy cock and spitting the "sample" into jars. He says he'll run some more tests and look into things, but that Derek is certainly capable of breeding and if he just keeps visiting, they'll get him exactly where he wants to go.

And Derek can feel the dangerous half-lie in there. He knows Stiles isn't all helpful. There's a darkness in his eyes and his hands won't leave Derek's body. There's a tension between them and Derek is at least not so clueless as to not recognize it's more than sex.

His heart races and his palms feel clammy and his mouth is dry. If she ever found out she just might castrate him. His parents would disown him. The whole town might just point and laugh. Shy, impotent, inadequate Derek fucking some dirty little sex worker when he could have had it all. Money and stature and a beautiful wife. And he's sticking it in this smelly scammer-- a male one at that.

But he'd really begun to think it would never happen for him. That he really was broken. It felt so fucking good and he already wants more. He'd tackle Stiles to the ground right now, find out if he could handle a round two. Except there's three missed calls on his phone and it's later than he thought and she's going to fucking scream at him for sure.

Graphic design is my passion.

You heard it here first! I'm opening some commission slots if ya nasty. $60 USD and 2k words each, if you got the cash and the inclination, feel free to buy multiple and make me write the epic drama you've always wanted.

Pitch me any pairing, any premise. As long as it's gay and I've heard of the characters before, I'm ready to deliver.

I specialize in fetish work, but if you just want the messy feelings without the bodily fluids, I do that too.

Hard No's: Non-con, excessive gore, snuff, het, cruel kink, race play

If you're not sure if it's up my alley, just ask! I'm very open and non judgemental. I'll tell you if it's not my thing, but I'm not mad that it's yours.

Teen Wolf, Supernatural, Arcane, The Witcher, Marvel, Star Wars, Assorted Video Games Oh my!

If you wanna vet my previous work, I've got a collection of other commissioned pieces here

Haha, oh man. Well not to expose myself, but just the usual sicko shit that I'm usually up to. The specific fantasy I've been playing out as I've been *ahem* enjoying myself this last week or so has been some sterek stuff. Just a nebulous au where Derek is married and Stiles thinks that's hot and is trying to seduce him and gets him to do more and more explicit and grotesque cheating until he's like sucking on Derek's ring finger and groping him and asking him about all the things she won't do.

And eventually they start fucking with more and more the point being the cheating and how hot it makes them until one time Stiles like steals him away from a public event where his family and friends are at and rides him in the bathroom and warns Derek that he's essentially ovulating (IDK if this is mpreg or trans or fantasy or w/e my brain doesn't care when I'm stroking) and after they both pause and seriously consider that fact Derek cums inside him anyway.

And then when Stiles misses his first heat/period/whatever they have even filthier, lustier sex. And Stiles like sends Derek a video of him fucking himself with a positive pregnancy test and then they have really gross kinky pregnancy cheating sex a lot and it all culminates with some uh... erotic explicit birthing shall we say.

Do you still think I could enjoy it? Or would I lack too much critical information?

I would actually say that Andor might be the best show for someone not terribly into Star Wars to watch because it's the first new thing in a long, long time that doesn't feel like it has to pay worship to the source material. Star Wars is usually a fanboy's dream and regular viewer's nightmare because it spends SO MUCH TIME just referencing itself and I was worried about that happening here, but so far it operates shockingly well as a stand alone.

Obviously you will get a little more from it if you know the larger context of the franchise, but it's not required reading and it doesn't waste time on easter eggs and it cares so much more about being a compelling crime drama/action show/thriller more than anything else. The writer is perhaps best known for his work on the Bourne Identity trilogy if you know what those are, and I think that gives you a good idea of the vibes of the show.

If you like shady corporations and government cover ups and spies and very grounded action, I would very much recommend it. Like I said before, the writing is truly stellar and the acting is great and the visuals are riding the perfect line of being unabashedly Star Wars-y while still feeling like a lived in place, where real people have real lives they gotta maintain.

So this might be a little crack-y, but I've spent a hot minute brain storming on what I would do with this idea and it has finally come to me. Since I think Derek especially has a lot of consent and bodily autonomy traumas just the usual stuff wasn't quite sitting right and so I kept turning over and over in my head ways that this could play out that would still be horny, but that would be crossing certain lines for him. And this still might not really get there, but idk it's what made my brain excited when I finally got it.

Imagine them in their UST phase. Everyone keeps asking them independently when they're gonna ask the other out and it's just always met with deep sighs and wistful looks. Neither one thinks it would be a good idea. Whether they don't feel worthy of each other or think it would just be messy to date within the pack or feel like they're not ready, who could say? Maybe it's a mix of all those things and more.

What is apparent is how much they want each other and how much they already act like a couple. They already spend so much time with each other, lean on each other emotionally and physically. They act as alpha and his second within the pack structure and everyone hates when one or the other leaves town for a while because they know the boy left behind is going to be a moody mess.

No one knows what to do about it and then a trip comes up for the group. It's time to renegotiate boundaries or something and they have to head to some sort of resort town to meet up with the neighboring packs. It's cold and cozy and the town the end up in has the nicest ski bum vibes. It's all pub food and wool coats and old booklets of DVD's in a log cabin.

Stiles and Derek are flirting like mad on this trip. Sharing ski lifts and sitting together on the balcony with coffee mugs and falling asleep under the same blanket on the couch. It's driving them both mad, but in a way that's almost fun for the first time. Almost like foreplay. Neither will be the one to make the first move, to lean in for a kiss, but they're dangerously close to holding hands and their shared body heat hits just the right temperature.

There's a night where everyone stays out drinking and they separately come home early, not realizing the other is there. The tension has ratcheted to this pleasant, tingly itch beneath their skin. Stiles loves a night shower and climbs into the hot spray not intending to masturbate, but not at all mad when he starts to get hard. Derek had just wanted to curl up in his bed with a book, except he didn't realize just how steamy the novel he'd brought was. The fight for their life spy thriller suddenly slowed down to have some shockingly smutty bits and when he got sticky in his sweats it felt like a nice little indulgence to just roll over and start humping the bed.

They're both closing their eyes, starting to get into it. Their breaths are getting shorter, lips needing to be bitten to coyly smother a moan. Even though they both think they're alone in the house, it still feels too illicit to wantonly enjoy their pleasure in a group space. Stiles puts his back to the cool tile for contrast. Derek can feel sweat starting to work up between his belly and the bedding. They think of each other in this moment and...

Derek thinks the roof has started leaking. Stiles wonders if he fell asleep in the spray. They don't question it for a moment, wanting to stay in this heady space. But then Derek wonders when his fingers got so long and as Stiles ruts he pauses-- considers the distinct slip and tug of a foreskin. Their eyes fly open and when they look down the cock in their hands is not theirs.

Both startle. Both groan. Both feel a guilty twinge as they can't help but at least stroke once, twice more. Stiles feels his ears prick, catching... well catching his own aroused groaning. Down the hall. Derek stumbles out of the shower and looks into the mirror, stomach squeezing as he looks and for the first time in a long time is swamped with deep, dirty desire. He can't remember he looked head on in the mirror and openly stared. Pale skin flush from the heat. Moles dotting long stretches of intimate flesh. Surprisingly dark and thick and wild hair. A cock all pretty and pink and the perfect size, curve, softness.

The doorknob rattles and he goes to shout that it's occupied, but his voice cracks and he squawks and... his body walks through. Meaty and hairy and obscene. Precum is drooling from his garish erection like snot, his uneven and grotesque balls sweating. He has a look of shock and then smarmy interest on his face that is hauntingly detached from any expression he's ever made before.

"I didn't know you were home," they both gasp at the same time. Their dicks jump. Stiles moves further into the bathroom, shuts the door behind him. Derek can't help the way languid hands stroke the fuzzy insides of his thighs as he watches the approach.

"Do you like that?" Stiles husks, and Derek hates the way his voice is so thin, even when deep with arousal. Derek's thumb pushes up into his taint, brushing past the coinpurse balls and threatening to feel for what he just knows to be a soft, sweet pink hole. "I'm so sensitive there. Love when guys blow on it, give it a little bite." Derek gasps and his fingers push at the bundle of nerves as he imagines sitting on his own face to test it.

"I knew you were big," his own voice chuckles, his hands reaching down to scoop at his drippings, slather them into his bush and pinch at the gushing abundance of wrinkly skin at the tip. "I had no idea you'd get this wet though. I've never seen it like this before. Fuck. I feel like I could take you raw."

Derek gasps as he's pushed up against the sink, made to feel small and slight and desperate for the first time since... since he decided he should never feel that way again. But he likes it. He likes it when he's easily lifted, legs spread, put on display. He likes seeing himself so openly lustful as he drinks in the object of his desire for so, so long. He mewls and he loves the way it sounds coming out of Stiles. Needy and boyish and deliciously unaffected. He wouldn't know how to filter it even if he wanted to. But he adores the naked youth, femininity, lewd wetness.

His own face smirks at him, eyes shining with understanding. "Oh you're already there huh? Usually it takes me a while. I think I built up a tolerance or something. Used to jack it for hours, you know? Dad gone all weekend and I'd just play video games and eat cheetos and cum all day. God it was grotesque, but like... kinda hot." Stiles reaches out and plays with the small length he used to feel such shame over, pinching at the plush head and watching it pulse. Always so needy. "But you sound like you've been at it a while. I'd say two spunks in. Starting to feel a little greasy, but can't stop yet. You gotta make it sore."

He takes himself in foreign hands and starts to slowly wring at it, puts Derek's against him. It looks almost comical. Longer and thicker and hairier. He'd thought he'd really been growing out of his baby face, but here and now he'd believe his body was still sixteen, still not fully developed. He ruts them together and they both groan, both spit. "Don't stop!" He hears Derek talk through him for the first time and his ass clenches. Stiles feels it itch with want and wonders if that's something he's brought or if Derek would love to have it played with.

There's not a single universe where he would ever stop. In fact, as long as they both nut, he's pretty sure he could die happy after this. He looks so vulnerable, but more lived in than ever. No matter how far away he gets from those gawky teenage tauntings, he still feels awkward. Limbs too long and voice all warbly and not an ounce of muscle on him. But Derek moves him effortlessly, with grace. He makes Stiles' body look like that of a dancer. Elegance and finesse. Self assuredness. The kind of person used to knowing how each nerve works and how to make it a tool.

They sigh. They grind. They stare into their own eyes and grip at the counter. Even as the shower has stopped the steam doesn't subside. Their hands tangle over their cocks and the wet, sticky sounds echo off the tile. They press their temples together, chests tight and whine for each other. Pleasure pops and fizzes like a bottle of champagne and it's hard to distinguish the gush of spunk that spills over them and spatters on their bodies.

Kinktober 2020 Day 8 - Casting Couch

(yes, I am still pretending that it hasn't been 2 years)

Kinktober 2020 Day 8 - Casting Couch

(yes, I am still pretending that it hasn't been 2 years)