If Anything, My Coochie Is Scared 🙃

Not that I'm writing... an Austin fic or anything.. ;_;

And even if I were it'll probably take MONTHS to do pahahaha

Writing Description Notes:

Updated 9th September 2024 More writing tips, review tips & writing description notes

Facial Expressions

Masking Emotions

Smiles/Smirks/Grins

Eye Contact/Eye Movements

Blushing

Voice/Tone

Body Language/Idle Movement

Thoughts/Thinking/Focusing/Distracted

Silence

Memories

Happy/Content/Comforted

Love/Romance

Sadness/Crying/Hurt

Confidence/Determination/Hopeful

Surprised/Shocked

Guilt/Regret

Disgusted/Jealous

Uncertain/Doubtful/Worried

Anger/Rage

Laughter

Confused

Speechless/Tongue Tied

Fear/Terrified

Mental Pain

Physical Pain

Tired/Drowsy/Exhausted

Eating

Drinking

Warm/Hot

I'M GONNA EXPLODE

Eden found

Summary: In the shadow of a secluded New Mexican commune near Eddington, you, as journalist, seek answers from Vernon Jefferson Peak, a preacher shrouded in mystery at the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic. What begins as a quest to uncover his cult-like following spirals into an intoxicating world of biblical subversion, unbridled liberty, and a surreal journey through desire and control. As the line between observer and participant blurs, you are drawn deeper into a vortex of psychedelic rituals and forbidden ecstasy, orchestrated by Vernon’s commanding presence, in an attempt to find ultimate freedom in a worldly Eden. 

Tags: MDNI, erotic surrealism (explicit), cult fiction, biblical allegory, psychedelic rituals, spiritual awakening, gothic sensuality, pandemic exploration, psychological entrapment, power dynamics, hedonistic utopia, journalistic descent. 

Word count: 4.2k 

Note: inspired by Aphex Twin's Windowlicker on repeat for hours, pictures by @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal 

List of Austin inspired one shots

+++

You were scrolling through the Instagram page of a preacher from a small town called Eddington in the US, while your Amtrak train glided through the New Mexican landscape, through deserts and mountain ranges. As nearly every journalist, you too had been looking to cover the implications of the Covid-19 pandemic. With this profession you were exempt from several travel limitations, and your newest subject, a man called Vernon Jefferson Peak, had been more than willing to invite you out to his commune.

Stories reached you that he tried to have his little oasis protected against governmental restrictions. But why he was so adamant, what exactly he was trying to protect, that remained a mystery for you to uncover.

What you did not know as you cruised cross country, was that you would never use your return ticket back home. 

Clad with a mouth mask, you listened to his sermons for hours at an end. Rants, they were better called. He spoke about his absolute distrust of governmental authority, about his desire for ultimate freedom, his refusal to wear any protection. He spoke about the guns he owned, the drugs he used, the sanctuary he created. 

An intriguing man, scruffy shoulder length blond hair, deep dark eyes. With time, he seemed to become more ominous, as if emotion was eating into all his constraint. While he was an obscure, not well-known nearly 40-year-old preacher before Covid hit, his audience changed overnight. His teachings of complete autonomy appealed to many.  

You, not doubting the good intentions of the government, were not appealed by that part of his message. But you were captivated by his delivery, his passion, his shroud of mystery. He was so easy to listen to, yet so difficult to grasp.  

What made him like this? What was his background? How did he come of this vision? All questions you hoped to find. But none you would gain. 

After a long travel, a driver brings you to his commune, and wishes you good luck, while giving you a knowing wink. It grabs your attention, but not too much, as your focus soon shifts to the place you have arrived at. A ranch it seems to be, built in traditional New-Mexican architecture, showing influences of many cultures coming together into a melting pot.  

As you step through the front gate, smells of incense and marihuana plants hit your nose. Unapologetic.  

You traverse the plain to the main building. The distances between the walls surrounding this part, the gate and where you are walking towards are so grand, they nearly distort your view. Halfway you stop to close your eyes and shake your head, as if you are trying to recalibrate yourself. Probably the expedition and lack of food have taken its toll. But this would soon be resolved, as Vernon had kindly promised you a place to stay and bread to eat for as long as you decided to observe him. You had offered him pay, but he said the lord would decide how you would repay. 

It felt like ages before you arrived. As you stood under the steps you needed to take to climb up to the porch, it opened with a soft creak.  

And there he stood, as you lifted your head to look upon him, the sun coming from behind him, as if he was wrapped in god's appraisal. Wearing white flowy trousers and a white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up displaying his sun-tanned underarms graced with veins and tattoos, the strings left dangling showing his chest, giving a glimpse of more tattoos that covered his otherwise lily-white skin. Broad shoulders. He was fit, for a priest. His hair as wavy as you saw online. A man true to himself.  

Yet, still an enigma.  

“Come, my guest. Let me get you something to eat, so you can be refreshed.” Hearing these words caused a shiver to run down your back. His voice, softer than on social media, while still remarkably intense. It was the first time you heard his voice life, as he had refused to speak with you. He only sent text messages, at random times and long intervals apart. You did hope you would not be spending the coming three days and nights, before your return home, following with a man who only recited bible verses.  

He walked down the stairs to grab the backpack from your back, as he extended his muscular arm into the space beyond the porch: “All for you to traverse. You will find rare and beautiful treasures in every corner.”  

“Thank you, mr Jefferson Peak” you replied, thinking how you never knew a man of the lord could be so... so strangly appealing. There was something about him. Something that drew you to him. 

“Please, call me father Veron.” 

You followed him through his path of musk, orange and incense. Looking around you, in the cool and softly lit hallway, the rooms you passed held faint shadows of what appeared to be people wearing white dresses. He had told you before quite a few people lived here in freedom, under his protection. He did not wear a white dress, his lined trousers did a good task in hiding his curves, although you could not avoid seeing the sculpted round shape of his behind as he stepped up some stairs and the tattoos around the uncovered skin of his ankles.  

He brought you to another courtyard, about 10 by 15 meters of sand with a bit of shrubbery, surrounded with white painted walls, holding white painted wooden doors and windows covered with white painted shutters.  

“I will bring you to your room” looking over his shoulder, showing you a hint of a smile. For the first time, you felt there was life behind his dire eyes.  

Reaching your room, he pushed the door open, waved his arm to emphasise the room and said: “refresh and find me.” 

And that is what you did. You walked through the room, which was filled with the same smell as he had radiated. As if he had spent considerable time in this very place.  

You splashed water in your face, trying to get the lightness out of your head. As journalist you had learned that in places like these, you needed to be on your a-game not to be swayed by sweet words and pressing gestures. Emptying your backpack into the closets, you found similar white robes as you saw earlier. 

The water did not help. Whether it was the journey, the lack of food and water, or the penetrating smells, your brain was trying to escape your head. You tried googling to get some idea on how to quickly relief yourself from the pain, but your phone did not seem to have any reception here. A quick nap of 15 minutes might help you, you decided, together with a large sip of the carafe of water placed on the table. Your host did not give you any pressure to be somewhere on time, so he surely would be fine with this. 

15 minutes turned into 3 hours, feeling like days, awakening in the dark. You had overslept. But, your head no longer felt like exploding. Light yes, but no longer painful. You felt relaxed, at ease. More than you had experienced for a long time. Going this far from the city you grew up in, was a way to find a new story. But it was more of an escape from the daily pressure of your family's hope that started to mount on you. Expectations you would never be able to meet, as you decided – as their only child – not to become the desired doctor or lawyer. 

With a little bit of guilt, you took another sip of water tidied up your clothes and went out to find the man you came to visit. Walking past the courtyard, your path was lit by low-burning torches. The premises even more beautiful than during the day, you could not shed the eerie feeling this place gave you. There was something unalive about it. Something was off. As if you did not see everything. 

The walk brought you through different parts of the compound. Past many other white doors, buildings, trees.  

There, entering through a narrow gate, you found him. Sitting on a white wooden chair behind a fire, which was surrounded by a few dozen people sitting or resting on their knees on the ground. Big platters of food laying next to them, from which they jointly ate with their hands. Chatting. Nothing surrounds this place, other than mountains and far away forests. They are in the open, yet so secluded.  

Vernon saw you, as he lifted his arm to softly wave at you. 

Walking as softly as you could, not to have any dust arise on the dishes, you circled around to say hello. 

“I hope you slept well” he asked with a smile, the fire crackling as the light radiated on his face, emphasising his sharp jaw and high cheekbones, while making his eyes look darker than before. 

“Yes, thank you... father Vernon.” 

He chuckled softly. 

“Come, sit next to me” as he pointed at a place next to him that was evicted that very moment.  

You decided to play game. That is what you always did. That is why people trusted you. You immersed yourself, allowing you to paint the full picture. It made you a respected observant. 

Kneeling next to him, the only person not clad in white, you looked up and saw his eyes slowly grace over his followers that surrounded him in the circle. He looked pleased, until he found your gaze staring at him. 

His smile disappeared as he pursed his lips. “Why are you here?” 

“To learn about you” you replied, “father Vernon.” 

“Hmm. I see” he replied. “If you want to learn about me, you will need to understand why these people come to me to show them the path.” 

“I am all ears, father Vernon. I am here to be taught, to understand” you replied, truthfully, while glancing around and seeing his followers lean against each other, finding each other vicinity, chatting softly.  

“I see, my dear” as his smile returned. “Do you want to immerse yourself in my teachings?” he asked. 

“Yes” you responded immediately. 

“You know what this means?” he asked, as the wind blowed softly, giving the fire a bit more room to grow. 

“Uuuhm” you replied. “Perhaps, perhaps not. Please, do explain, father Vernon” with the smell of the incense infused bonfire hitting your nostrils, spreading through your veins, while the chatter of his people seemed to turn into something softer. But you only paid attention to him, so you failed to see the mood shifting around you. From a light feathery ambiance, transitioning into something more suggestive, more amorous.  

“I believe in liberty. Unencumbered liberty. We believe that through the ingestion of certain medicines we become conscious. We open a spiritual gateway to god through our joint entanglement. This combination will set us free” he bellowed as if he was preaching. At the same time, he spread his arm to your shoulder, as if to exemplify what he meant with entanglement: a physical touch. Human's becoming one. Finding each other. 

“I prepared the food myself, as I do every day for my flock” he said at a normal tone again, extending his other arm as if to embrace his people, only to find his heart. He did not offer you anything, nor did you long for it. 

You finally tore your gaze away from him, following his lead, and saw the people surrounding you finding one and other. Not just embracing, unpacking, cherishing, touching, kissing. You managed to zoom into what was happening, the new sounds now reaching your ears. 

It suddenly dawned on you. This was not just an innocent embrace, this was set to become a full-on psychedelic infused fest. As your mouth nearly dropped open, you heard him start to prepare for yet another rant: “take each other, ravish each other, become one. The lord has always intended that all people in Eden devour each other, regardless of bond and sex. The garden is meant to eat, to live, to enjoy - not to be ashamed and bound. Never did the lord proclaim that enlightened and free people should be shackled. Live, as life was meant to be in paradise. In this paradise we know no sin. Man and woman were both naked and were not ashamed in the holy gardens of Eden. We are made to consume, to unmake, to ruin, to claim, to desire, to take, to worship.” 

Upon hearing those words, the crowd responded: “to unmake is to worship, to take is to glorify.” 

As he continued to evangelize, nearly oblivious to what was happening around his feet, you just sat there and watched the sight unfold. In an atmosphere filled with divine lust, people started to fall on top of each other, help each other undress, bring each other to a state of oblivion. Every now and then united through another chant. Another mantra, solemnly spoken. All, to satisfy their god.  

Their bodies turned to unify into one throbbing thrusting mass, producing obscene yet blessed sounds, under the watchful eye of their father, Father Vernon, who enticed them with his rapid fire, almost speaking in tongues as the night grew older.  

Every now and then he would look at you, benevolently. See how you were still there. He enjoyed your presence, he saw the awe that you had for his work.  

You were not taken aback, or perhaps a bit, but only momentarily. You looked in trance at the marvel unravelling before your eyes, the people that came apart at his mere will. You did not consider to participate – you did not yet know that this would come sooner rather than later. But you allowed the sight to pass straight through you, and the react to the little particles within you, setting a chain-reaction in motion. 

That night, he physically only touched you on your shoulder, and only once. It was sufficient.  

Mentally, he already started to settle you to receive him. 

But you did not know that, not yet. 

“Sleep well. I will see you tomorrow night” he whispered, knowing you would return.  

+++ 

He knew. He knew that you would sleep for many hours, a longer stretch than usual. Breakfast displayed in your room, lunch brought to you on the porch where you sat staring at the never changing landscape.  

You were not sure what you had witnessed yesterday evening. You tried finding more information online, but your cell phone connection was still not working, and wifi was not available.  

So, you needed to rely on your other sources: other guests and your own deduction.  

Other guests remained shadows during the day, fleeting past you without making a sound. You knew you were not alone, yet you only saw servants.  

You did try to find your host, but not with too much urgency. You had two days and two nights still.  

On the porch, looking in the distance, you found solitude you had yearned for. It allowed you to dive deep into your mind. Yet, however you tried to formulate the right questions you needed to research here, you could only think of him. The man that had created this little oasis san sin. The preacher who tried to recreate Eden on the face of earth. The man that started to occupy you, dictate your thoughts. Vernon Jefferson Peak.  

Mesmerizing. He had this glow over him that drew you. Wild yet sophisticated. Dark yet welcoming. Enrapturing yet distant. The man was an enigma.  

What did you know of this man? Why did these people follow him? How did he manage to create this place?  

All legitimate questions, to which you would perhaps find the answer, after yet another lightheaded day. 

A day on which you failed to make any notes. 

+++ 

The second night repeated as the first. You woke up after a long nap, finding darkness broken by torches that set the path. 

A path you followed.  

Again, the person next to him allowed you to sit, the psychedelic laced food was served while he spoke. While he preached. Lecturing on freedom.  

This time, you ate.  

You knew that you ate. Not much, but a bit. You knew what this would mean. It would cause you to shed the line between observer and participant. 

But you decided, after all, you needed to experience the world he was creating here. And that meant following in the steps. 

The ritual of the day before was repeated. People started to undress and find each other.  

And that was when the drugs kicked in. That is when you started to understand. The impact of what Vernon had prepared in his kitchen found path into your brain to shed your inhibitions. You looked from the mass of people to the fire and back, and saw how this was all connected. They were just... recreating the dance of the flames. Recreating how paradise must have been, when all of humanity was still united. They were seeking and finding their salvation through this ancient ritual.  

It suddenly all made sense. You now knew why you felt off before, a feeling that had vanished. 

One follower found Vernon, as he sat in his chair, having finished his second monologue. She kneeled between his legs, and asked: "I am here to worship and receive blessings, father Vernon” while letting down her head. 

She was fully undressed while he was fully clothed, and he responded kindly: “come, my child.” Her signal to move closer and start to massage his thighs and waist, while he moved his pelvis a bit forward to allow her better access. 

As she opened the buttons of his shirt, he allowed himself to relax and look over to you, one hand on her head, while the other reached out to yours. “Observe, my dearest guest, this is what praise of the lord means” nodding at the sight in front of him.  

Soon, his chest and arms were fully bare, showing the ink that covered his body. Pictures that depicted Eden. Beautiful trees, water running, people in happiness. It could have been a fifteen's century Dutch master, recognisant of the style of Jeroen Bosch, were it not that it was covered on his sculpted body and not displayed in a museum. Beneath all of this, the constraints of his loose-fitting pants were starting to show. 

Her hands sought the divine, as she caressed his torso in a gesture of blessing. First with her hands, later with her tongue. 

You just felt, you just knew: ‘this is not what Vernon wants. He wants something else. His need for absolution is somewhere else.’ 

Just that moment, you saw Vernon lose some of his control for the first time. Just the tiniest of growls came from him. You eyes shot to his face, where you saw his smile disappear behind his luscious lips, his jaws clenching, his eyes further darkening. It had the right impact, causing an immediate reaction within her. She fell to her knees to unbutton his trousers, to allow her to unleash his growing length from its holding. This was less ceremonious, as she did not take a lot of time before opening her mouth and welcoming him in. 

You looked at this picture unfolding in front of you without any shame or constraints, your mouth falling open ever so slightly. As if you were readying yourself as well.  

It was a holy sight of a man who clearly received the blessings of his lord. She struggled to wrap herself around his girth and length, and he let her. He looked at you as he spoke: “this is her path. This is her struggle. She needs to earn her place in heaven by becoming a vessel for the sacred intent of god” as he petted her head, complimenting her for her efforts with soft hums.  

His other hand was still resting on your neck as you were still kneeling down: “you are no longer an observer, you are a participant. Disrobe. Take off those foreign threads.” 

A shock waved through you, but you did not protest. You had decided to see more of his world, and that meant following. It was just for one night, so you told yourself. And truth be said, being the only person not fitted in white linen, or now clothed at all, did make you stand out. 

“Yes” you responded, adding softly “father Vernon.” 

“My lamb” he answered pleased with his husky voice, while your clothing softly dropped to the ground. 

With his cock being consecrated and you kneeling next to him with his hand softly around your neck, undressed, he started yet another sermon. But the words did not find you anymore, it was the tone, the sound, the melody that hit you.  

It brought you euphoria. 

It brought them euphoria. 

It finally brought him euphoria. 

And that is when you understood. 

+++ 

On the third day, you woke up with an excruciating headache.  

Scavenging through your bag for pain killers, you found your return ticket, and hold it in your hand. You will be leaving tomorrow. Leave this place. A last day to find the answers you were looking for, to be able to finish your article. 

Again, breakfast has been brought to your room. Lunch served on the porch. 

Gazing over the mountain range, you found yourself, asking: ‘I feel so at ease here. Why is that? Is that not the question to ask?’ 

You could remember in vivid colours, sounds and smells what you witnessed the night before. 

It hit you. You knew. You knew what you needed to do to find the answers. 

That night, you followed the path in flames again, after you awake from your nap. For the first time dressed in the same robes. 

As you entered the ceremony, something was different. You could not identify what it was, as your eyes were drawn to the fire to guide you to your place next to father Vernon.  

No-one was sitting there, the place next to him was already yours. 

“Come, my child” as he pointed at the place next to him. “But don't sit. Today, I have a trial to show if your faith is genuine.” 

You gulped. 

“Have a drink” as he handed you a glass of water. “Fear not.” 

You took a sip. The water had tasted... differently in this place. You blamed it on the local sanitation process. But perhaps, perhaps that was incorrect. 

“The flock is yours. Tell them what you saw” he instructs with a tender yet forceful voice. “Stand in front of the spiritual fire and declare. Lead us tonight.” And on those words, he placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you to take a step forwards, guiding you stand exactly in front of him. 

There you stood. A journalist, a writer, an observer – being observed, being witnessed. Eyes open in anticipation, nobody engaging with each other as all focus was on you. 

What more could you have ever wanted, than such undivided attention for your words? 

You started to speak, softly, but soon rapturing into reverie. 

You spoke, first of pleasantries. Of the nice architecture, the hospitality, the weather. 

His hands soon found you, separated just by fabric. Starting on the top of your buttocks, moving up, slowly, to the small of your back. You thought you felt him ever so softly raise your robe. 

Soon you declared. The kindness you met here. The solemnness. The liberty.  

One hand held the dress up, allowing his other to find the path underneath to the back of your thighs. 

As you proclaimed, he mapped. He mapped every single centimetre of the skin of your upper legs, getting closer and closer to your heat. 

You recited, as the top of hand and thumb graced your folds. 

He whispered: “you are doing well, my good and faithful servant.” 

Soon, your sermon transitioned into your observance of the absence of limitations and inhibitions. 

His fingers rewarded you, pressing into you, sight hidden from the flock. 

You thought you were still making sense, failing to notice that you had started speaking in tongues, all eyes still burned onto you. 

Your arms lifted up to the sky, as you declared. Your response to his machinations. Through his thrusts he handled you as a puppet.  

The end of your homily coincided with the peak he brought you, his long fingers offering you salvation as your eyes were fixed on the fire. 

“Fall” he told you, and you fell, on your hands and knees. Worn. Spent. 

“Brothers and sisters, today we will embrace a new sister in our midst” he declared, as he let himself fall behind you. Folding away your linen, unearthing himself from his own, he took his length, placing it behind you, having the tip wait at your entrance, to entice your anticipation.  

“Followers, find your own way” as he joined your bodies with a fluid motion. The sign they needed as the group slowly but surely erupted into their own oblivion. 

While they met each other, embraced each other, mixed fluids and feelings, you were initiated into this group. This very group, led by the man behind you. 

You knew you did well, as he showed you the stars by thrusting into you with divine intent. 

You knew you found your place, as he allowed you to gain enlightenment through his torch. 

You knew you would not leave, as he blessed you with his holy seed. 

Your exile from humanity was over. You belonged. 

+++ 

Post note: daily sermons for our dearest Austin Vernon, taking naps every day, being fed, living a god alike – I mean... I would follow him... wouldn't you @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @f3ytal @austinbutlerslovers @peageetibbs-ab @houserautha @sandwormrp @thefloatingpickle @arianatheangel-girl @wiseyouthinfluencer @jjubilee-fluff @unicoo @pomtherine @buckysteveloki-me @eternal-love @aust-een @destinymoore05 @nextlevelstupidity @slowsweetlove? Thank you for engaging into my rambles, yesterday and today.

List of Austin inspired one shots

Awh stop he's so cuuute

HE'S SO BABYYYY

He's so prettyyyy

Haven’t posted a colorized edit in here in quite awhile 🤍

STOP I'M FKIN CHOKING--

Smallest-Ever Men’s Watch modelled on the man with the Thickest-Ever Arse.

This man is way too adorable for his own good 😭😭😭

Those Austin’s tweets and blogs were so cute😭, my angel has always been such a sweetheart with a beautiful soul💕 (the way he wrote “I’m 16 but I’d be 17 on August” was so baby boy lol)

They're adorable. 🥹

Yes, he's always been a sweet guy. 💕

Even his mirror selfies are wholesome lmao!

I've always loved this old IG post of his.

🥹

His Girl (18+) - Gale Cleven x Nurse!Reader

A/N: finally posting the one-shot 😊 I really hope this decent or good lol.

Im trying to branch out with my smut, so this is a little different. Please let me know what you think, in case I need to improve 😅

Warning/s: office sex, p in v

Major Gale Cleven rarely got angry, he might fire up over something he was passionate about. But to get angry, hardly. The last time he got angry had to be with the British RAF men, but Curt had stepped in that time. And he loved Curt for it, and all the men under him and John. Yet tonight he could have punched the brunette for his words.

Even recalling them made Gale's blood boil. They were all sitting around at the on bases bar, talking about different topics. When their past and current conquests came up. Gale had nothing to share, he hadn’t been with a woman since he came to the base, yet there was one nurse he couldn’t keep his baby blues off. She was a sweet little thing, with a bright smile and dreamy eyes. Always swapping pleasantries with him, even when she was stressed out, she was always polite. Gale was a goner, smitten with her.

“I’m tellin’ ya” Curt's voice rose, catching the Majors attention, “she adores me! She can’t keep her hands off me!”

Most of the men rolled their eyes or sighed. “Yeah right! You're dreamin’ Curt!” One of them called, the others laughing at Curt's sputtering.

“S-she does!” Was all he could say in defence.

Gale was confused, and decided to find out who the woman was. “Who are you talking about?”

Curt looked to the Major, a dreamy look upon his face. “Nurse (L/N)”.

Hearing your surname Gale's blood ran cold. You were the woman that couldn’t keep her hands off Curt? You were seeing him? Kissing him? Doing God only knows what with the man? His blood then boiled. He sat there for a little while, Curt still talking about you to the boys. When he had had his fill, Gale made up an excuse and left the table. And out of the building. His mind racing with what Curt had been spouting.

That conversation played in his mind as he moved around the base, trying to clear his head and calm his anger. Yet neither seemed to die down. And when Gale looked up to his surroundings, he found himself to be heading for the on base Medical. To where you were. Stationed on night shift this week.

He came to stop a few meters from the doors to where you were. It was an internal battle right now with himself. He could walk away, believing Curt's words, or go in and confront you. But why? It wasn’t his place, what you did with whomever was your choice. Yet it bothered Gale. It bothered him so damn much. He liked to think its because he was worried that you would be a distraction for Curt, it would effect his work and duty. Or to protect you from the man who was wagging his tongue freely for those that would listen. Yet, deep down, Gale knew the real reason.

Gale believed it was a crush. Sweet and innocent. Him looking at you and smiling to himself. And the pleasantries in passing, with your own smile, he told himself was enough. But now, now it had to be more. Hearing Curt, Gale knew he wanted you. And only for him. He wanted your kisses, your hands on him. He wanted to whisper sweet nothing’s in your ear. And do so many unholy things to and with you. He blushed at the thoughts running through his head, yet that anger was still there.

He was about to turn and head back to his room, hoping to get himself and his anger under control, and not do anything rash. Which might have happened if he stormed into Medical. Unfortunately for him, you had just stepped outside, but not noticing him as you rolled your shoulders back and stretched. His baby blues noticing how your chest stuck out, giving him a good opportunity to assess those assets.

“Oh, Major Cleven!” You said with a surprised tone, yet your voice still sounded like music to his ears.

Gale cleared his throat. “Evening Miss (L/N)” He greeted with a touch of embarrassment, glad you didn’t seem to notice his staring. Or if you did, you ignored it.

“Are you alright Major?” You asked moving closer to him, and putting a little distance from your duty, but not far enough away you wouldn’t hear any patient calling or the phone ringing.

Gale looked confused, “I'm sorry?”

You smiled softly. “Are you alright?” You asked again. “Because you’re at Medical, sir".

He cast a look to the building behind you, before snapping out of the confusion. “Oh! I'm f-fine. I was just walking to clear my head, and wound up here...”

Your smile dropped, your eyebrows knitting together. “Did something happen?”

Now it was Gale who smiled softly. “Just boy talk back at the bar”.

You nodded. “Of course, no doubt many tall tales from that lot" and you giggled.

Gale hoped your words were right, and Curt's words had been just that, a tale. You both heard your name being called, you turned around and excused yourself, but not before inviting Gale inside, if he liked. You didn’t wait for his reply, moving quickly through the doors and disappeared from sight. Left to the silence of this part of the base, Gale contemplated leaving, and letting you do your job. But he was enjoying your presence, which was helping with his anger. Deciding against his better judgement, Gale headed inside after you.

Entering the building, he was mindful to close the door as quietly as he could. Before moving between the two dividers that housed the injured and sick behind them. Standing between them, Gale’s eyes noted in total four injured men. And you were at the furthest one, helping his leg. Stepping closer Gale watched how you checked his bandages before massaging his calf muscle. He guessed the officer got a crap, and you had helped settle it before checking the bindings of his injured leg.

When you were done you washed your hands before drying them on the white apron over your nurses dress. You both walked back the way you came, stopped on the other side of the dividers. You glanced back at the patents once more before settling back on him, a gentle smile on this damn soft red lips of yours.

“Sorry about that Major, but when duty calls, you know?” You said lowly, keeping your voice down.

He nodded. “It’s alright Miss (L/N)”, voice just as low.

You rolled your eyes, but still smiling. “Please Major, just (Y/N)”.

“Well if I am to call you by your name, you must call me Gale" he replied with a small smirk on his full lips. All the while enjoying how informal you both were being.

You felt your cheeks warm as his words and that small smirk. “S-sure, Gale...” you paused, letting his name linger on your tongue. “D-did you want to stick around for a bit?”

Hearing those words Gale nodded his head before he could properly decide, his subconscious making the decision for him. You smiled brightly before gesturing for him to follow you. You lead him to a near by office, as he entered you said you both wouldn’t bother the patients here with your chatter. Again Gale nodded as he took in the room. A couple of desks, that were covered in folders and papers. As well as a few filing cabinets, along with a closed cupboard, and two chairs, one at each desk.

“Mind the mess" you said sheepishly, “didn’t expect company". You proceeded to move paper and folders around in an attempt to tidy up a bit, but only failed due to the volume of them all.

Gale chuckled at how cute you were, and how comfortable he felt in your presence. Usually around women he found it hard to engage or be himself. But you were definitely different. You offered him one of the chairs, and he took it saying thank you. You decided to remaining standing but in the end chose to lean against the desk across from him. You both sat/leant there in silence, a very comfortable one.

You sneakily took your chance to look Gale over, admiring his dirty blonde locks, baby blue eyes and gorgeous face, with those full lips that you just knew would be cushion to kiss. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about the Major before you in a scandalous way. Wondering what those hands of his would feel like touching you, running up and down your body. Or how it would feel to kiss him and those lips of his. No doubt he’d be a take charge kind of guy. Or how that voice of his would sound low, gruffly whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he held you close, or as he took you on this desk right here, right-

“I hope you’ve been taking time for yourself, and making sure to get enough sleep, as well as eating well" Gale's voice brought you back from your thoughts.

You looked away, embarrassed to have spaced out. But it seems like the Major didn’t see you staring at him. “A-ah, yes. I-I have been...”

Gale nodded, pleased to hear that. From there you both made small talk, before it turned into a deep, warm conversation. It began with both discussing the powdered eggs, neither of you being a fan of them. From there you spoke about base life. And then you both talked about back home. Gale spoke of Casper, Wyoming and how he missed a good home cooked meal. You both laughed at the continuous mention of food.

“What about you (Y/N)? Where’s home?” He asked, sitting back in the chair, eyes focused on you.

You placed your hands on the desk, thankful that your grip couldn’t break the desk from how his gaze was making you feel. And to be fair, it was the same for Gale. Observing how you rested against the wooden piece. Soaking in how you would take a moment to think before responding to him, how your eyes looked upwards while in thought. How your shoulders slumped from how casual you were being. How your stocking clad legs were tempting him to run his hands up, and under that distracting nurses dress. Which sat above your knees in your leaning position. Gale wanted nothing more than to get up, move to you, lift you to a sitting position on the desk and nestle himself between your legs as he kissed you deeply.

“Home is San Francisco, California” you replied longingly. “I miss my parents dearly. I miss Sunday night family dinners".

Gale warmly laughed at more food talk.

“Not entirely for the food, though my mother’s roast and baked potatoes are heaven" you laughed, which sounded like bells to Gales ears. “I miss spending that time with my parents, older brother, his wife and their two children. I miss the warmth I always felt when around them...”

That sobered you both up. The realisation of where you were, and why you were here. Gale had left the little family he had to fly across the world, to fight a war that he wasn’t even sure he’d return home from. While you recall what you’d seen so far since arriving here, and imagining what you would see. You both know there was a far amount of death in your futures while this fight raged on. So having a moment to relax, chat warmly and remember why you’re there, it was a sweet moment you both could take solace in.

Gale cleared his throat. “What about your feller back home? Surely you miss him terribly”. Yes he was fishing. This was a good time to start figuring out if what Curt said was fact or fiction.

You looked at Gale in confusion, before realisation settled in. “O-oh no”.

“No you don’t miss him terribly?” He asked a little confused.

You shook your head, “I m-mean no, n-no feller back home".

Gale felt a moment of relief, but the Curt thing was still there in the back of his head. “Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought...”

You chuckled a little awkwardly but said: “it’s fine. Everyone assumes I have someone back home, when I don’t...”

“Any lucky man here on base, or in town?” He paused, before adding, “I don’t mean to pry, and I understand if you don’t wish to answer! I promise I only ask in a casual way, I won’t report anything, I promise".

Placing a hand over your mouth, you laughed at his words. Before you shook your head. “No, there’s no one right now”.

A relieved smile tugged at the orders of Gale's full lips, before he sighed. He believed you, which meant Curt had to lying. “Really there’s no one?” He pushed a little more.

Your laughter died at his question. You looked at him with a slightly sharp look. “Why do I feel like you know something I don’t know?”

Well shit. Now he’d done it. Gale sat up in his seat, casting his eyes away from you. But you continued to ask him what it was he knew. How does one tell a woman that another man had been telling his buddies how intimate the two of you had been? Though it seems like it wasn’t true.

“Major, I am waiting for an answer” You stated with a serious, and annoyed tone.

Gale would have corrected you on his name, but remained from doing so. Instead he looked back to your face, that looked fierce yet holding a touch of worry. He knew he had put his foot in his mouth by being too obvious, so now he had to inform you of the gossip.

He sighed. “(Y/N)...” Gale's tone soft, airy and light. “Tonight I heard something, involving you and...Lt Biddick” – he watched to see if you would say something, but you remained quiet – “Curt was telling the boys that, well, he was saying you can’t keep your hands off of him".

That woke you up, you sat up straight. Your eyes showing him how angry you were, yet your face remained blank. “Why that little weasel” you gritted out. “H-how dare he! I never, he never, we never!”

Gale held up a hand, a look of assurance on his face. “I figured as much...but, couldn’t be entirely sure. Sorry...”

Your face heated up, no doubt a pink to your cheeks in both anger and embarrassment. “I assure you, I’ve never done or said anything to give Lt Biddick the idea I am interested in him. I’ve been pleasant because I have to...he’s just, he’s not my type".

He was relieved to hear that. Yet, that didn’t mean your type was him. It could be any man on this base. And he felt that anger arising once more. He wanted to be the man you wanted. He wanted you.

You sighed in frustration. After all you had been leaning there stewing on the new information the Major had supplied. “I have a good mind to confront him right now".

While in this mindset you moved from your spot against the desk, and headed for the door. Even though you were meant to be on duty, you could ration stepping out for thirty minutes to chew Curt out. Gale, on the other hand, didn’t want you to risk not only getting in trouble for leaving your post, but also making a scene, even if Curt deserved it. Quickly he shot up, moving after you, and not thinking, wrapping his arms around your hostile frame as you reached the door. He proceeded to pull you back, your hand grasping the door for a moment, then slipping through your fingers, which resulted in the door closing with minimal noise.

Gale dragged you back, protesting your actions. While you argued with him. Neither noticing the position you were in, or when Gale landed back in his seat, with you in his arms and on his lap. You continued to thrash around, using some unsavoury words towards Curt.

“Let me go! I am within my rights to tell that, that low-down dirty rat off!” You gritted out, continuing to move around on Gale’s lap.

“I-I can’t let you, you don’t want to get reprimanded, do you?” He asked, trying to not enjoy this situation.

“It would be worth it to wipe that smug look off that scoundrel’s mug!” You retorted with fire.

You continued to rant and rave, jostling around on Gale's lap. Eventually slowing down till you stopped, a ragged breathing mess. That was when you noticed the situation you were in, along with a pressure up against your behind. Then it dawned on you, what that pressure was. You flushed, stammering your apologies. It took him a moment to realise himself of his arousal, and that you had noticed. Quickly his arms loosened and you took that moment to get up. You both were shocked and embarrassed. And yet, both couldn’t deny some enjoyment.

“I-I sorry Major" you stammered moving a step back toward your desk. “I-I didn’t mean to, you know”.

You turned and headed for the desk, needing space. But in that moment, maybe your red cheeks, the stammering or his need for you, something snapped in Gale. Rising to his feet, he took the few steps across the room to stand behind you, as you stood with your hands on your desk trying to calm down. Boxing you in, a hand on either side of yours on the desk, he buried his face in your neck.

“M-Major!” You squeaked from his sudden forwardness. “W-what are you doing?”

“Gale" he groaned, reminding you of his name. “I-I can’t deny it anymore, I want you, (Name). Please, say I can have you?”

The way his voice sounded in pain, and the words themselves, it hit deep in the pit of your stomach. Adding fuel to your own arousal. You have wanted Gale just as much as he wanted you, it seemed. The looks and brief exchanges between you both just adding to your schoolgirl crush for the Major. And now you could have what you wanted, and he could have what he wanted too. You both wanted the other in such an intimate way.

Feeling him shift behind you, his arousal brushing against your behind. As well as the small groan from his lips against your skin, you said; “yes Gale. I want you so much".

That was all he needed to hear. Without a second thought, Gale moved one of his large hands to cup your breast over your apron and nurse’s dress. The pressure of his hand, pressing the fabric roughly against your erect nipple brought the softest groan from your lips. His lips press against your neck, sloppy kisses that lead to a groan when grinding himself against your rear. You arched against Gale, your behind pressing more into his lower half, only causing more fire for you both.

Satisfied, for now, with fondling your breast, Gale moved his hand down to the back of your knee. His palm resting there, feeling the slight warmth of your skin threw the stocking you were wearing. His hand then ran up the back of your thigh, over the stocking, your dress moving up with its movement. You sighed from just this small action, trying to imagine of what was to come. He stopped when he found the attachment of your stocking to a garter belt, and you thought he would have undone it. But Gale had other plans, one that would surprise and arouse you further.

He moved his hand back down to behind your knee, where he swiftly lifted your leg up and to rest on the desk. With this movement your dress rose, and he made sure to push it further so it bunched at your waist. Leaning back at the sight, Gale groaned. Leg up, panties exposed and you leaning slight over the desk from his movements was a sight to see. You looked perfect, displayed perfectly for him.

“G-Gale" you stuttered in surprise and need, casting a look at him over your shoulder.

That was it. That snapped the last shred of conscious thought in him, replaced with his want and need of you. Leaning in, Gale managed to pressed a hard kiss to your lips, and another couple more while moving his hands to free himself. The moment he unzipped his pants and freed his manhood, Gale gave you a moment to stop this. Yet you didn’t say a word, not wanting this to end.

Moving your panties to the side, he ran the tip through your slick. You shuddered when it came into contact with your throbbing clit. He rubbed against it a few times, until he got a small moan from you. Gale guided himself to your entrance, before placing his hand on your thigh to ground you both as he began to push into you. This wasn’t your first time, but you had only been with a couple men. And from them you knew you were tight. Gale was finding that out himself, for as he entered you inch by inch, he had to fight it. With one final small snap of his hips, the Major was completely inside you. Taking a moment to enjoy how well you felt around him. Along with letting you adjust to his impressive size.

You sighed, content with feeling the Major inside you. And then you begged him to move, that you needed him to make you feel good. Slowly pulling out, Gale told himself he would make you feel good, you both would feel so good. Before completely removing himself, Gale thrusted back into your warm centre. Over and over, slow at first. Testing the waters. Getting a feel for your reactions to him. How you held your breath when he would enter you, and moan as he pulled out. How your head tilted down one time he went a little deeper, telling him he had found that spot within.

Leaning forward, Gale picked up his speed when thrusting. And harder as he went. Soon  finding that spot more with this angle. Soon you were a soft moaning mess, trying to not be too loud. As was Gale. Though he wanted so badly to moan and groaned your name like a roar. Though he loved this position, how good you felt wrapped around his cock, he wanted to see your face and kiss you senseless.

Swiftly he pulled out of you, you protested. But when he turned you around, lifting you onto the edge of the desk and settled between your legs, you got the picture. Hands moving to his shoulders as he lifted your legs up on his hips. Finally he re-entered you, watching how you tilted your head back in bliss. Leaning over you, Gale captured your lips in a feverish kiss, as he went back to thrusting in and out of you. Hard and fast, chasing that high from just a moment ago.

You slipped a hand to the back of the Major's head, hand grasping his hair and tugging a little. Gale pulled back from the kiss in a moan from your action. Yet never leaving you, allowing your foreheads to press together as he continued to have his way with you. With every thrust that coil in the pit of your stomach tightened, and with it you clench around Gale's cock. You were close, so close.

He lifted one of your legs a little higher, changing the angle yet again and with a few more hard, yet sloppy thrusts you finally came undone. Thankfully Gale managed to capture your lips in a forceful kiss. He swallowed the moans, claiming them for himself. As you road out your orgasm, Gale finally reached his own release. A couple more sharp thrusts before settling his cock deep within you. His seed coating your inner walls. Your mouth capturing the strangled moan that left him.

The kiss finally broke, you both needing air. Gale rested his head on your shoulder, one hand on the desk and one holding up your leg. You clung to him by his head and shoulder. Neither of you believing what had just happened, but basking in the euphoria it brought. The hand in his hand ran through the locks, bringing a blissfully sigh from his lips as he nuzzled the crock of your neck.

Reluctantly, the Major moved to pull out from you. Leaving you empty and missing how good he felt there. He covered you back up with your panties, noting how his seed began to run out and could have stared as it did, before finally putting himself back in his slacks. You of course watched him, enjoying the sight. When your gazes met once more, you both smiled bashfully.

“Well, that was...something" Gale said with a small chuckle.

You nodded. “Yes, it was. But I thoroughly enjoyed it" you giggled. Reaching out for his tie and pulling him back in for a kiss.

Gale didn’t waste time, kissing you back. The kiss was open mouthed, slow and full of tongues caressing. You both know this is how it should have started, and it could next time. But how you transitioned into sex was perfect. A mix of anger, intensity, longing and want. Neither felt guilty. This was the start of something greater, you both knew it.

“Just so you know" you said softly, pulling back from the kiss. “Curt never stood a chance, I-I always fancied you, Gale".

A bright smile formed on his lips from your confession. “Good, as I’ve always fancied you too, (Name)”.

A few more quick kisses were shared before Gale finally let you down from the desk. You both straightened yourself out, laughing a few times from your activity. Gale couldn’t keep his hands off you, either holding your hips or around you as he held you close. And you were loving it, but you both had to get back to reality and what was outside the office. Unwillingly Gale understood, heading for the door. But not before pausing in the open doorway, turning back to you.

“Next night I'm able to go into town, I promise I’m taking you out" he stated. “A few drinks at the pub with my best girl". And he winked.

You blushed, nodding. “Sounds perfect".

With that, Gale headed out. Noting that all injured men were asleep. Exiting the Medical bay, the late-night air felt good. The Major felt lighter, and bubbling with joy. Finally, you were his. And he looked forward to dangling you under his arm in front of Curt. A nice little screw you to the man who was telling tall tales about you. Yet, part of Gale wanted to thank the Lt. For if it wasn’t for his tale, that Gale might not have finally gotten his girl, his (Name).

Austin age 18 to 33

The process of ageing is amazing is it not - I'm always in wonder of it. Love to see photos of friends and family throughout their life... it's just super interesting.

Seeing him in this outfit with this hair, my brain is screaming

Push me up against the wall 🥵

I’m manifesting that the trailer for Caught Stealing comes out soon.

I gotta come clean,

When this man says "You wanna come live with me" I almosT-I SAID ALMOST-- abandoned my obsession for Benny 😂

Almost ;_;

Beau Knapp | ‘The Bikeriders’ Los Angeles Premiere (2024)