Hogwarts gets a new Qudditch teacher, Mr Wood, former player for Puddlemere. He’s extremely attractive in an older man’s way. He’s an excessively cheery type of teacher and quickly becomes everyones favourite teacher.
While down in Hogsmeade a few students go into a Quidditch memorabilia shop. The owner is quite a grouchy wizard named Mr Flint, and according to Professor Longbottom used play for Montrose.
While in the shop one day they notice Mr Flint is smiling which is unusual for him. He’s talking to Mr Wood. The students make the conclusion that they knew each other in their old Quidditch days.
One day a student asked why Mr Wood never stays at Hogwarts overnight and Mr Wood explains he lives in the flat above the Quidditch memorabilia shop with his husband
After a wave of realisation, the students thought it was cool and asked both of them what it was like to play against each other
He was a perpetual-motion machine run by the energy of others: here leaning over a friend’s table at a pizza joint, here drawn into an alcove with a girl’s palm to his mouth, here laughing over the hood of an older man’s Mercedes. The congregation was so natural that it was impossible to tell if Declan was the magnet attracting or the filings attracted.
While waiting for the cross signal at the intersection of Clark and Balmoral an attractive older man asked me, “How’s the run?” Breathless, I said, “Still going,” true and yet inaccurate in its way, in its incompleteness. I wanted to say, “Deliciously,” but I also didn’t want him to think I was coming on to him. But the run was going deliciously and it was still going (three-quarters mile of the four remained). I was exhilarated. The air. The fragrance of the city in its thaw—vile trash, cheap perfume, fried foods, bus exhaust, and icy lake water. You could taste the air. The dead leaves awake in sunshine, rotting. The aroma of weed drifting from a porch, dog shit dank. Someone practices scales in a big stone house on Magnolia, and her room is bright orange—supposedly painted so to stimulate creativity—and she had her windows open to let us know she sings not only in the summertime. Also I did want to come on to the older man. He seemed pleasant, rich, enthused—as electrified by the temperatures as I; muscly, stylish, and above all happy. Spontaneity repels me and when I looked back at him he had done the same but I cold fish faced it, pretending to stretch. I told myself, “You are not in Chekhov story, you are not even in a story, you are not even in a shitty episode of ‘Hunting Season.’ You are exercising in ponderously high temperatures for February, you might as well respect the dying Earth, and speed home, and do your crunches, and tell Daniel about the beautiful older man, and kiss his jealous face as avariciously as a teenager new to being naked with another body.”
I really don’t know what I’m doing with these titles sometimes
Anyway, this one is for the lovely deanimation.
Prompt: “Hi there! Welcome back! I was wondering if it would possible to ask for a Myan fic where Michael has always topped in his previous relationships but he asks Ryan to dominate him and Ryan is more than up for the task.— Thanks! :)”
Content warnings for smut, Dom/sub undertones, and asphyxiation.
Michael let out a content sigh,
cosily draped over his boyfriend on the couch. Ryan was like a furnace, but in
a convenient and comfortable attractive-man-form.
The older man smiled softly
without looking away from the TV screen, looping an arm around Michael’s waist
and kissing the top of his curls. Michael’s nose wrinkled briefly, then he
twisted his head around and pecked at the side of Ryan’s jaw. He leaned his
cheek on the blond’s chest, simply gazing up at his face. Muted, constantly
changing light cast soft shadows on Ryan’s face, seeming to throw his blue eyes
into even sharper relief. Michael sighed again.
“ Mr Todd? What the hell are ya doin’ here? ”Harleen asked, looking at her boss, surprised to him standing outside of her apartment door. She had always found him extremely attractive, especially for an older man but never did she think that he would notice her. Maybe she was in trouble, though she doubted he would come to her home if she was, unless she had done something serious. Although she couldn’t think of anything she had done wrong, despite maybe giving someone the wrong drink every now and again. Harleen smiled as she stood in front of him, slipping some loose hair behind her ear.
“ Are you okay? Happy Valentine’s Day, by the way. Ya probably got lots of girls that are dyin’ to be ya Valentine, don’t ya? ”
It was rare to have a day with zero cases, but that had finally been achieved. Her time was spent between filing her paperwork and flirting with her boss, even if her hints had been subtle. She’d lean in a little close when she asked him to sign something, innocently touch him as she stood beside his desk, or simply stare a little too long from across the room. Her teammates were too busy to pick up on what she was doing, though she would have never made the effort if they were watching. It was bad enough she was new to the team, she didn’t need to be teased for liking their boss, though it had always been hard to hide her attraction to the older man.
As the brunette stood from her desk, she announced she was stepping outside, which she did often when she needed a break. Having fresh air helped her think, though now wasn’t one of those times. Her skirt had been hiked up a little higher, showing off more of her legs, as she rounded her desk. Her hips swayed for his benefit and she crooked a finger, inviting him to join her. She knew his favorite private place was the elevator, she had heard the stories, so taking him to familiar ground seemed simple enough.
Making it to the metal doors, she pushed the small button, waiting for the doors. Once they chimed open, she stepped inside, pressing herself against the back wall. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, a grin spread over her lips at the thought of what was to come. That was, if he joined her.
⚫️Marvin laid back on his bed, snuggling with his stuffed animals, who were cruely smothered by his chest. For someone who identified as male, he had a rather curvy figure; wide hips and rather large… Well, you know. He didn’t really mind, he supposed. He never liked his body, but it could be worse. He’d absolutely hate being pear-shaped. He shuddered at the thought.
As he cuddled with his stuffed rabbits, he swore he heard his door open, but ran it off as his mind playing tricks on him. It was dark, it was late and he was alone. He was just being paranoid. However, when he felt the bed shift under another person’s weight, he froze. He jumped up, holding the rabbit closer to him as he looked at the other person. A (rather attractive) older man sat at the foot of his bed… Grinning at him. “Um…” He fluttered his long lashes, unsure of what to say. “W-Who are you..?”