#that does make the next part make a little more sense
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Three's A Crowd
This is a multiple part story. This chapter does not have smut. But the next one does, so stay tuned and feel free to critique. I am always open to suggestions and overall thoughts. Thank you.
Stream of the Day: Novacane 🤍
Contents: Paige And The Reader Attend Paige's After-Game Homecoming Party. Where Reader Finally Meets The Infamous Laliah A Former Flame And Now Friend Of Paige's. Which puts both the reader and paige on edge as laliah makes no mistake in letting paige know she still thinks of her.
THINGS TO KNOW: The Reader Is Black As I Am A Black Girl.
Although, Paige Takes On More Of A Switch Role? Sorry, Yall She's Not Getting Dicked Down...For Now.....
Warnings: Kissing, Fingering, Swearing, Vibrating Strap, Breeding, Degration, Praise, Groping, Possesive Reader, Suggestive Language, Possesive Paige, Jealous Reader, Jealous Paige,* I can't think of anything else right now. * COMING SOON!!!
Word Count - 1.6k MEN And MINORS DNI
☆ Salem's Thoughts ☆
This Story is purely fictional I have no personal relation to anyone mentiond. And I have no malicious or weird intent when writing. These fanfictions are purely for enjoyment and obsessed girls like me.
☆ Salem's Final Thoughts ☆
Please be mindful I'm a little rusty at writing as I haven't Written serious fanfiction. Since my wattpad days, I'm Also dyslexic so read at your own risk.
Paige’s after-game homecoming party was in full swing, the living room pulsating with laughter and music, but all the sound seemed to fade as I laid eyes on Laliah. She was standing by the kitchen counter, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulders as she leaned in close to Paige, their shared history palpable in the way they moved. As I walked closer, I could see the flicker of recognition in Paige’s eyes, a mix of nostalgia and unease. Laliah's smile was warm yet carried an edge, her gaze lingering on Paige longer than necessary, making it unmistakably clear that old flames still flickered in her heart.
Earlier That Day....
I sighed as I finally turned off the alarm set for 8:15 AM, groaning softly as I pushed myself out of bed. The morning light filtered through the curtains of our hotel room in Minnesota, where Paige was born and bred, her dream of becoming a UConn Husky now a reality. Her family had moved away a year and some change after she left for Storrs, but Minnesota still held a special place in her heart. I moved quietly around the room, gathering Paige’s bags for practice and the upcoming game.
The city was buzzing with excitement, the air thick with anticipation for the game. Paige and Laliah, once formidable teammates at Hopkins, were now playing on different teams, and their reunion on the court was the talk of the town. This trip was a homecoming of sorts, and the shared history between Paige and Laliah added an extra layer of intrigue to the event. Little did they know paige and laliah shared more than a court together.
Later that day, after the game, the real test would come at the after-game party, where I knew I’d finally meet the infamous Laliah, a former flame and now friend of Paige’s. The thought of Laliah’s presence set me on edge, knowing she still harbored feelings for Paige. With a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on getting everything ready for Paige’s big day.
Paige stirred in bed, her eyes fluttering open as she sensed my movement. She stretched and then sat up, her expression a mix of excitement and anxiety. "I'm nervous about the game," she admitted softly, running a hand through her hair. "It’s been a while since I’ve played in front of a hometown crowd, and with Laliah on the other team..."
I walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "You’ve got this, my love. You’ve trained so hard, and everyone here knows what an amazing player you are." I smiled, trying to infuse my voice with confidence. "Plus, it’s just another game. You’ve faced tougher challenges."
She smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thanks. I just...I want to make everyone proud."
"You will," I assured her, then hesitated before continuing. "And about meeting your former teammates tonight...I’m a little nervous too. Especially about Laliah."
Paige's smile faded slightly, and she nodded. "I know. It’s complicated, but you’re the one I’m with now. She’s just a friend."
"I trust you, my love," I replied, squeezing her shoulder gently and running my fingers through her hair. "But it’s still a bit intimidating, you know? Meeting people who’ve known you for so long and finally seeing Laliah after everything..."
"We’ll get through it together," Paige said, her voice steadier now. She leaned in, giving me a soft kiss. "Just focus on the game for now. We’ll deal with the rest later."
After reassuring Paige, we finished getting ready and headed to the arena. The drive was filled with quiet moments of hand-holding and exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and underlying nerves. As we pulled up, the bustling energy of the city was evident, fans already gathering in anticipation of the game.
Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was electric, teammates greeting Paige with enthusiasm. I found a spot in the stands, the sea of familiar faces reminding me of just how significant this game was. The crowd erupted in cheers as the teams took to the court, and I spotted Laliah warming up on the other side, her presence a stark reminder of the evening to come.
As I scanned the crowd from my seat in the stands, my eyes eventually landed on Laliah. She stood out effortlessly, her presence commanding attention without even trying. Her dark curls framed her face in a cascade of effortless elegance, and her smile, though warm, held a hint of mystery. Dressed in her vibrant mustard yellow and worn leather red uniform , she exuded confidence and grace.
Beside me, Paige's family chatted excitedly, her mom waving enthusiastically at every point Paige scored. Her dad and stepmother watched intently, their pride evident in every cheer and applause. Paige's two little brothers were bouncing in their seats, their energy contagious, while her little sister sat quietly, eyes fixed on the game with a thoughtful expression.
The game was intense, both teams playing with unmatched vigor. Paige moved with a grace and determination that made my heart swell with pride. Each basket, each defensive move, showcased her dedication and skill. But it was impossible to ignore Laliah's equally impressive performance, the chemistry between them on full display even as opponents.
Amidst the excitement, I couldn't help but steal glances at Laliah, her interactions with the crowd and the game itself a fascinating study. Despite the history between her and Paige, there was an air of familiarity and respect in the way she engaged with everyone around her.
Paige's family, oblivious to the significance of Laliah's presence, continued to cheer and celebrate each play with infectious enthusiasm. As the final buzzer sounded and uconn emerged victorious, the crowd erupted in cheers, and I quickly rushed down to meet her. She wrapped me in a tight hug, her face glowing with the thrill of victory.
"We did it," she whispered, her voice breathless.
"You were amazing, my love," I said, kissing her cheek. "Absolutely amazing." She said as she spun us around and cheered. In the locker room, amidst the jubilant cheers and high-fives, Paige and i shared a quiet moment of celebration, her arms wrapped tightly around me as we basked in the euphoria of victory.
After the locker room celebrations, Paige and I retreated to our hotel room to get ready for the party. As Paige changed into her usual attire—a black button-down shirt paired with loose trousers—I opted for a more toned-down look, slipping into a sleek yet understated dress that accentuated my curves in all the right places.
As I smoothed down the fabric of my dress, Paige sauntered over, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "You know, I think I prefer you in less clothing," she teased, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind.
I chuckled, leaning back into her embrace. "Oh really? And here I thought you were all about the mystery."
She nuzzled into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone. "I like a little mystery, but I also like knowing what's underneath," she murmured, her voice low and suggestive.
A shiver ran down my spine at her words, the familiar heat of desire igniting between us. "Well, lucky for you, you've already unwrapped this package," I replied, turning to face her with a playful grin.
Paige chuckled, her eyes darkening with desire as she pulled me closer. "And what a delightful surprise it was," she murmured, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.
As we finally made our way to the party, the playful banter between Paige and me took on a tense edge, each teasing remark and stolen glance fueling the simmering jealousy between us. The air crackled with unspoken tension, our insecurities festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to heal.
As we mingled amidst the crowd, Paige's gaze lingered on Laliah for a moment too long, and a surge of Jealousy with a hint of anger ignited within me. "Can we talk?" I hissed through gritted teeth, pulling her aside with a firm grip on her arm.
Paige's eyes flashed with frustration, her own insecurities about the night finally bubbling to the surface. "What now?" she snapped, her tone sharp and defensive.
"It's about her, isn't it?" I accused, my voice trembling with anger and hurt. "You can't deny that there's something between you and Laliah."
Paige's jaw tensed, her expression defensive. "She's just a friend, damn it!" she spat, her voice laced with frustration. "Why can't you trust me?"
But trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the lingering stares and whispered conversations that passed between them. "Because it feels like I'm competing with her for your attention!" I shot back, my voice rising in desperation.
As our argument escalated, the tension between us reached a boiling point, our words a painful reminder of the growing rift between us. And amidst the chaos, Laliah approached, her presence casting a shadow over our already strained relationship.
We soon put the argument to rest, realizing that no one would come out happier than when we entered. In Paige's attempt to reassure me, she gently guided me over to Laliah, attempting to make introductions. Despite the lingering tension, Paige's gesture was a small but significant step towards easing the palpable unease that hung in the air. As we approached Laliah, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me, unsure of how the encounter would unfold. Nevertheless, I squared my shoulders and forced a polite smile, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
"Laliah, this is..." Paige began, her voice trailing off as she glanced uncertainly at me, her hand still clenched in mine.
"Y/N, her girlfriend and secretary on occasion. I interrupted, my tone cool and clipped. As I smiled softly and reached out for a handshake, which she returned steadfastly, "I've heard a lot about you."
Laliah's lips curled into a knowing smirk, her gaze flickering between Paige and me with a hint of amusement. "Likewise," she replied, her voice smooth as silk. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you both."
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#sapphic yearning#paige bueckers x black!reader#wlw smut#gxg smut#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#uconn huskies#nika muhl#kk arnold#Spotify#black fem reader#women#salemswriting
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i know just how much you love it
Rating: R (explicit 18+) minors DNI
Warnings: Smut, pwp
Word Count: 5.1k
Pairing: BuckTommy/Tevan/Kinley
Summary: Buck is brat. Plain and simple. So when Buck decides to play dirty when they go out to a bar, Tommy fucks him in the parking lot to remind him of his place.
read on ao3 | as always, heed the tags and warnings |
Evan being a brat was not exactly a new experience for Tommy. In fact, it was becoming a regular thing the more their relationship progressed.
It started with snippy remarks, almost complimenting Tommy’s own dry sense of humor. It quickly moved to teasing touches, working Tommy up just enough before pulling away and acting like nothing happened. Smaller things that the younger knew that Tommy loved, like wearing shorter shorts, walking around the loft or the house shirtless, even licking and biting his lips when he knew Tommy was watching him. When Tommy finally realized what exactly Evan was after, he sat him down and forced him to use his words, making the younger describe in detail what exactly he wanted and how he wanted it.
Tommy considered it his own form of teasing, watching Evan squirm while he spoke about his dirtiest fantasies and desires. Encouraging him to keep talking as Tommy listened intently, taking ideas and suggestions to save for later. The more he heard the more he found that he and Evan had quite a few things when it came to those fantasies and desires.
Though, ever since that conversation, Evan seemed to be making it his personal goal just how much bratting he could get away with.
And don’t get him wrong, Tommy loved that his boyfriend was opening up more and really getting settled into this dynamic part of the relationship. But it was moments like these that were really starting to drive him up a fucking wall.
It’s not that he was jealous. He wouldn’t call himself jealous. Or possessive. For the most part, Tommy doesn’t get jealous. He knows that Evan is it for him and he is it for Evan. The most “jealous” that Tommy has ever gotten is when Evan is trying to elicit a reaction from the older man, so Tommy gives it to him, but it’s all just acting. He’s never actually jealous. It’s all just build up for some rough and hot sex. And Tommy has never once felt that jealousy or possessiveness because Evan has never given him a reason too. The blonde always comes home to him with a smile on his face and that's all Tommy can ask for, all that he really needs.
But now? Oh, right now, Tommy is feeling more than a little bit jealous.
Now, he wants nothing more than to saunter up to his boyfriend, wrap an arm around his waist, and pull him close to his body with a shit-eating grin on his face. Now, he wants to go over there and kiss him hard, pull away with the younger’s bottom lip still between his teeth, hear him whimper like he always does when he wants more. Fuck, he wants to bend him over a table and fuck him for the whole bar to watch, laughing as he does it because he knows only he can make Evan feel that damn good.
It’s a new and terrifying thing that only seems to fester the more he watches his boyfriend. It only starts to truly burn and bubble under his skin when Evan moves the smallest bit forward.
The younger man is currently laughing, leaning into some guy’s space as he opens his mouth to speak again. Evan is putting in the work, batting his eyelashes, throwing his head back when he laughs, and giving that dorky, dopey smile when he finishes it all only to start it back up again. The guy is inviting Evan to lean in, asking him to move in closer. He moves his arms to the table next to where Evan’s are resting, caging him in but not touching him.
God, Tommy hopes he touches him.
He’s basically begging for it with the ways he’s watching the two of them. He probably looks like a madman to the bartender, hell, probably to anyone in his eye line. He feels like a predator, watching his unassuming prey play before he strikes. Only, Evan knows that he’s watching, knows that Tommy is staring, hoping, wishing, waiting for this other guy to make a move on him. And it’s driving Tommy so insane he can almost taste it.
He wants that excuse, that reason to pounce over there and stake his claim. He wants to snake his arm around his big, buff boyfriend’s waist, pull him into his side so fast and hard that he jostles, showing off his strength and force. And it wouldn’t even be a show for this guy.
It wouldn’t be a display of jealousy, of dominance, no, it would be a show he’s putting on for Evan. A little part in this game they’re playing. Because the thing is, Tommy doesn’t blame Evan. The guy he’s flirting with is handsome. He’s got longer hair, it reaches his shoulders but it’s neat and styled, and the outfit he’s wearing shows off just enough that it could leave anyone wanting to know more. Tommy sees the appeal, he really does, but Evan is prettier, more appealing.
Evan is the one he’s watching.
The one he can’t take his eyes off of.
He’s the one that’s got Tommy craving more.
Evan shifts to lean in further across the table. Tommy’s fingers flex around his drink. He can feel his teeth grinding together in anticipation. From here, Tommy can’t see Evan’s eyes but he swears that he flicks them down in a quick glance to the other guy’s lips. The guy leans in closer, stops for a second before angling his head to say something into Evan’s ear. But he still doesn’t touch him.
There’s that bubbling under his skin. He can feel himself twitch involuntarily. Tommy feels like he’s going to explode. He’s half tempted to go over there without any kind of signal from Evan. It’s against the rules, disrupts the plan, but he really doesn’t care right now. He’s less concerned with scripts that they had written in their heads and more concerned with how he can get his hands and mouth on his boyfriend. Against his better judgment, he stays put and starts bouncing his leg in order to help him calm down.
Evan pulls back cocking his head before letting something slip past those pretty, perfect lips. The guy smirks and one of his arms moves up, his hand lands on Evan’s bicep and Tommy is up.
He’s not sure what happens after that. One moment, he’s sitting at the bar, staring holes into his boyfriend’s head and the next he’s right behind, wrapping his arm around waist and tugging him back against him. Evan goes willingly, leaning back to rest his head against Tommy’s shoulder. The entire expanse of his neck is on display and Tommy’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, never taking his eyes off of it.
“Hi, baby.” He says.
Evan is looking at the guy through his lashes, one hand on his beer and one on the arm around his middle. He’s rocking slightly, sinking further and further into Tommy and the older man just lets him. He widens his stance ever-so-slightly, careful not to disturb the blonde as he takes more of his weight.
“Hi.” He responds, flicking his eyes up to Tommy for a moment before looking back at the guy he was flirting with.
“Who’s this?” His eyes are still on Evan, watching his boyfriend’s throat bob as he swallows.
“Myles.”
“Mason.” The guy, Mason, corrects with a scoff.
Neither Tommy or Evan are really paying attention to him. He served his purpose with them. Evan falling back in Tommy’s thrall and Tommy enjoying the process of reeling him back in.
Evan’s eyes go back to gaze into Tommy’s and Tommy drags his own eyes up his boyfriend’s body to meet him there. Once they lock onto each other, they stay there. Tommy sees Evan’s lips part and his tongue out to wet his lips from his peripheral and it takes everything in him to not take his eyes off Evan’s.
This is the second part of the game. The part where they see who breaks first. It’s usually always Tommy. He’s so worked up at this point that he has no choice but to give into his desires. Licking his way into his boyfriend’s mouth, his tongue exploring inch and crevice like it hasn’t before. He’ll swallow down Evan’s moans and whimpers before pulling away with a smirk. Evan’s eyes will still be closed, lips still parted, and he’ll pull his bottom lip in between his teeth before rolling off Tommy’s shoulder. He’ll look up to fix him, hands either on his shoulders or hips, still swaying. When he opens his eyes more, they’ll focus straight on Tommy’s lips and Tommy will push in until he’s almost eating the younger man whole. He’ll push Evan into the table, they’ll feel it rock slightly and Evan will reach his hand back to steady it and himself. When they pull away, Tommy will suggest they go home and Evan will gladly follow.
But tonight, Evan pushed in, wasting no time in licking his way into the older man’s mouth with a fever. He twists himself in Tommy’s hold, changing the angle so he’s face to face with his boyfriend. He grabs onto the lapels on Tommy’s shirt and pulls him closer. One of Tommy’s hands moves to steady himself on the table and the other goes up Evan’s back, snaking it into his hair. He digs his fingers in right above the base of the blonde’s neck before giving a sharp tug.
Evan gives a whimper as Tommy holds his head back. Tommy smirks, using his grip to maneuver Evan’s head around. The younger sinks into it, his grip on Tommy’s shirt slipping away to steady himself back on the table.
“Tommy, please.” He gasps out.
Tommy looks down at him, admiring his work.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Another rule, make Evan admit to what he wants.
He rolls the younger’s head around a few more times. His other hand has moved away from the table and onto his boyfriend’s hips. He’s holding Evan’s hips close to his, firm in making sure they stay where he wants them.
“Please, please…” Evan swallows, “Please, Daddy.”
Oh, this little shit. He thinks before pulling him into a searing kiss.
Evan can barely keep up. It ends up being more of Tommy shoving his way into Evan’s mouth, licking, biting, and sucking. He lets out little whimpers and moans that only egg the older man on. He’s swallowing them all down, careful not to miss a single one. If he focuses on them he swears he can taste them, all sweet and tart, just like his boyfriend.
Evan is pushing against him, using the table as leverage, attempting to move his hips in a circle. If Tommy looks down he’s sure he’ll see the beginning of a small wet patch forming on the blonde’s pants. The thought of just how wet his boyfriend gets driving him further into this madness he’s been fading in and out of all night.
He pulls away with Evan’s bottom lip still between his teeth. His eyes open to see Evan’s rolled back into his head. He gives a small tug, sinking his teeth further into Evan’s lip. The younger lets out another whimper before Tommy drags his teeth off with a pop. He looks down at his handy work. Evan’s eyes still rolled back, a blush high on cheek, and his bottom lip now swollen and bright red. He smirks to himself as Evan’s eyes come back to meet Tommy’s.
“Say it again, baby.” He whispers.
Evan moans again.
“Please, Daddy.” He says in a rushed and hushed voice.
Tommy smirks again.
“Please, what?” He punctuates the question with another sharp tug on Evan’s hair.
It takes the younger a second to collect himself. His eyes rolled back again when Tommy gave another tug to his hair and he ran his tongue over the inside of his bottom lip softly. Tommy wondered if he was bleeding a little bit. He wanted to know if he could taste the metallic twang of blood if he pushed in for another kiss. He wanted to lick into his mouth, gathering up the new taste of Evan and Evan’s blood. But he restrained himself, waited for Evan to answer before he gave him any kind of reward.
“Fuck me. Fuck me, please, Daddy.”
Fuck, this kid was going to be the death of him.
He pulled away, his hand slipping from Evan’s hair and the younger man whimpering in response to the loss. It trailed down to Evan’s hip, using the new found grip to move his boyfriend where he needed him. He spun him around, pushing him gently to get him to move. He watched the faces of the people they pushed past, drinking in their reaction to just how wrecked Evan was and how he was the one that was responsible. He knew Evan was reveling in all the attention. The looks on everyone’s face as Tommy staked his claim, he loved it like the attention whore he was.
“Look at them, baby. All looking at you, saving this image of you in their minds. You’re like porn on a stick.” He watched Evan’s shoulder jump as he gasped, no doubt letting out another little whimper.
They pushed their way to the doors, Tommy starting to guide him to the car before Evan pushed back hard. He turned, walking the older man back into the wall of the bar. The younger’s hands were fisted in Tommy’s shirt again. He was using the grip to keep his boyfriend caged against him and the wall. Tommy’s hands never leaving Evan’s hips. He could feel the brick of the wall starting to lift his shirt as the younger man pinned him further against the wall. He was pushing into the kiss Evan had initiated, fighting for dominance.
“Do it here.” He whispered into the kiss.
Tommy didn't have a chance to respond with kiss after kiss pushing him further into the wall. His lips being assaulted with those of his boyfriend’s. He licked into Evan’s mouth, using his tongue to pull Evan’s lip into his mouth once again. The younger eased his grip, the move never failing to turn him to jelly. Tommy took the opportunity to take back control.
His hands on Evan’s hips gripped tight and pushed back, effectively pushing himself off the wall. He gripped onto Evan’s forearm, pulling him in for one more rough kiss before starting to walk towards the truck. Evan stumbled along after him, giving up on the attempts to take over.
They parked towards the back of the parking lot in case they had to leave the truck here overnight. Tommy’s hand slipped from Evan’s forearm to his hand, interlocking their fingers as he pushed towards the vehicle.
He shoved his hand into his jean pocket, reaching in to grab his keys. He fumbled them in one hand, almost dropping them as he dragged his boyfriend along. He saw the tail lights light up and it only fueled the fire under his feet. When he felt he was close enough he turned to face the blonde, grabbing onto his biceps and slamming him against the back of the truck. Evan let out a shocked gasp and then they were kissing again.
The older man’s hands went back to their place on Evan’s hips. The hold he had on them would surely force a mold of Tommy’s hands into the skin, a permanent resting place for his hands and only his hands. A type of claim he could only dream of staking on his boyfriend.
He let his fingers pull Evan’s shirt up just enough for him to sneak his fingers underneath it. His fingertips ghosted over his lower waist and hips as he worked his thumbs under the waistband of his jeans and boxers. He rubbed a pattern into the skin, pressing harder so there was a potential there would be small bruises for the next couple of days. Evan squirmed under his touch, pushing back against Tommy. He caught the hint and pulled back, giving Evan a chance to breathe.
“Just…do it here.” The younger huffed out again before going to push in.
Tommy stopped him, finally registering what he was saying. He turned his gaze to Evan’s face, looking for any sign of hesitancy. He smirked when he found none.
He pulled Evan into him, taking one hand off of one of the younger’s hips, going to fiddle with his keys again. He heard the little click of his truck unlocking, he pushed Evan back again, sticking out the hand with his keys to catch the latch on his truck bed. He pulled it down, pushing his boyfriend with him as he maneuvered around. He pushed Evan pack into the truck once more, his grip on the blonde’s hips turning into a soft touch. He smiled down at his lover once more before turning his handle on him back to rough and pressing in for another harsh kiss. He pulled away with Evan’s lip in between his teeth again. He smirked and only let go when Evan let out a whimper.
“Yeah, baby? You want me to fuck you right here?” He leaned closer, ghosting his lips over Evan’s neck. “In the bed of my truck, where anyone who leaves that bar can see you?”
“Fuck, yes, please.”
Tommy loosened his grip just a tiny bit, pulled back just enough to glance up at his boyfriend.
“Just please, baby?”
Evan whimpered again.
“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me right here. Please, please, please…” He trailed off in a sea of begging.
Tommy smirked again. He loved having this initiate power of his lover. He loved that he could turn him into a blubbering mess with a few choice words and touches. It sent a certain kind of rush through him every time he realized just how much he had an effect on Evan. The rush would hit him again every time he realized that Evan had that same effect on him and he knew it too. All the little switches and buttons that Tommy had discovered for Evan, the younger also discovered for Tommy. The result was moments like these where Tommy was pulling out every trick in the book to keep Evan a begging slut while Evan put it on thick, using every little thing that Tommy loved about him for evil.
Tommy had pressed them together as soon as the tailgate was down. Evan was now using what leverage the truck gave him to grind into Tommy, pressing their clothed cocks together. Tommy let out a groan at the new sensation, pulling away from his assault on his boyfriend’s lips so he could look down at the sight. Sure enough, there was a wet spot on Evan’s jeans that was only growing by the minute.
“Look at you, baby. Making us feel so good.” He breathed in Evan’s ear.
He moved his former assault to Evan’s neck, careful not to leave any hickeys (at least above the collar of his shirt). He gave soft kisses and light suckles, licking long stripes up the expanse of his boyfriend’s neck before blowing on them gently and watching the younger squirm beneath the sensation.
“Tommy, please.”
“What, baby? What can Daddy do for you, huh?” He whispered again, watching a jolt go through Evan’s body at the words.
“I need you to fuck me.” His voice was quiet and hoarse as he spoke softly, if they were home Tommy would make sure it stayed that way into tomorrow.
“Speak up, sweetie.” He said a little louder than a normal volume.
“Fuck me.” Evan’s hands went to Tommy’s hips, set on his zipper.
Tommy grabbed him before he could get much further. He held both of Evan’s wrist in a tight grip in one hand and leaned to place his other on the truck bed, caging his lover in.
“Is that how we ask for things?”
Evan shook his head in response.
“No, it’s not. That’s good, love. So, do you want to try that again?”
Evan nodded.
“Good.” Tommy leaned back. “What can Daddy do for you, baby?”
“Fuck me, please, Daddy, please.”
Tommy gave him a soft smile.
He moved a hand to grope at Evan’s back pocket, smiling when he felt his wallet in there and reaching in to grab it. He opened it to find the condom and packet of lube that Evan always carried with him. He held the two between his fingers as he yanked Evan’s pants down without a second thought. Then he flipped him around, laying a hand between his shoulder blades to push him down against the truck bed. Evan whimpered and squirmed as the coldness of the vehicle came in contact with his bare skin.
Tommy used his hips to pin Evan’s to his spot, pushing his hips, and therefore his cock, further against the exterior of the vehicle. He gasped and let out a moan in response. Tommy opened the lube packet, squirting some onto his fingers before he slipped them between his boyfriend’s cheeks. He circled the rim of Evan’s entrance and watched him as he squirmed some more. Little “please, Daddy, please’s” were spilling from his lips. He was speaking at a normal volume, just loud enough for certain words to almost echo off the truck and the cars around it.
He pushed in with two fingers, immediately crooking them and exploring his boyfriend’s hole. He wasn’t too worried about the prep, Evan was always prepped for scenes like this. He was such a good little slut, Tommy would have to reward him later for the preparedness so far.
The younger was currently a writhing mess under his boyfriend, thrusting and grinding into the truck bed to get some action on his cock. As soon as Tommy saw it he grabbed one of his hips in a firm grip.
“You know the rules, Evan.” He said as he worked his fingers further into his lover.
“S-Sorry, Dadd-” He was cut off with a moan as Tommy pressed into the wonderful little bundle of nerves.
It wasn’t long before he was drilling into that spot, over and over again. Evan was a mess below him, splayed out against the truck bed begging Tommy for more. He had gotten three fingers worked into him, nice and slow, with all the focus on his prostate but never for long enough. Tommy let out an evil little chuckle when Evan whined at the loss of the fingers.
“I know, baby. I got you.”
He took the condom hold of the package with his teeth, holding it there while he rolled it on his length and applied the rest of the lube. He spread Evan’s ass open and thumbed over his hole.
“Tommy…Daddy…please…” That was all Tommy needed for him to slip in.
He opted to sink in all in one go, having fucked his slut earlier in the day and know he could take it. The reaction from Evan was something Tommy wanted to play on repeat every chance he could. He took a sharp breath in before exhaling it in shaking, breathy moans. His head was turned to the side and from this angle, Tommy could see his eyes flutter close. He found his grip on the younger’s hips again and slowly held Evan in place while he slowly pulled out. He waited for a little wiggle of the blonde’s hips before he slammed back in. He was setting the pace that Evan liked, slower and harder.
Evan’s little noises were bouncing off the truck bed and across the very few cars around them. He only got louder when Tommy would pick up his speed, drilling into his boyfriend. The older man smirked to himself. He was so lucky to have this beautiful specimen of a man as his. The way he looked and sounded while Tommy was fucking his brains was his new favorite song. He changed his hold on Evan’s hips, shifting and lifting until his boyfriend clenched down on him.
“Fuck, yeah, Evan? Does my cock feel good fucking into you?” He groaned out, letting his composure and character crack a bit.
“Uh-huh” The younger one did his best to nod with his head against the truck. Tommy swore he could see some drool escaping his mouth.
He continued to fuck into his lover at a rapid pace. He aimed for Evan’s prostate every time and was pretty damn accurate based on the noises being made. He took a second to take in the sight in front of him. Evan was splayed out on the truck bed, arms relaxed near his head, letting himself be pushed further up the bed with every thrust. He was letting little moans and gasps escape his lips, occasionally trying to form a word and losing it when Tommy would thrust back in. It was only fueling Tommy’s own desire. The thought that he could reduce this beefcake of a man down to a whimpering, moaning mess, begging him to come was like a wet dream come true.
Evan started to sloppily try to move back to meet Tommy’s thrust, the harsh grip the older man had on his hips starting to guide him into it. Tommy couldn’t wait to see those bruises tomorrow. He loved when there was evidence of his handy work. It was like he was giving himself a guide for next time, leaving little breadcrumbs to remind himself just exactly how he made his boyfriend tick.
“Close.” Evan stuttered out through moans and gasps.
Tommy took that as permission to adjust the younger’s hips again. He lifted him slightly, adjusting his own angle before pulling out only to slam back in again. The older man opted for short and quick thrusts, focusing on hitting that little bundle of nerves inside the younger. Evan had gone silent, mouth hanging open and eyes half-lidded as Tommy worked him towards an orgasm.
“Touch yourself for me, baby.” Tommy said, never letting up on his assault on Evan’s prostate.
The blonde moaned and Tommy smirked. This was his favorite part, bringing Evan right to the edge only to pull it all away until he could form enough words to ask if he could cum. It almost always ended in Tommy walking that edge with him, but he wouldn’t allow either of them to cum until Evan asked. It was another rule, another part of their little game.
Fuck, he could feel Evan clenching around him. He wasn’t going to last much longer, himself.
“Come on, love.”
Evan took the hint, squirming underneath and trying to get his lips to move. He would get about half way through his question before it would get lost in a sea of moans. Tommy could see how close he was, how hard he was trying to be a good boy and wait until he got permission. The arm that had moved off the bed so he could fuck into his fist had stopped moving and Tommy knew it was so the blonde could squeeze the base of his cock. Evan was never very good at holding off his climax on his own, and god dammit, if he wasn’t going to pack one of Evan’s cock rings next time.
“Tommy, please.”
“Use your words, Evan.” He gave a particularly harsh thrust, but ultimately slowed his pace. “Please, what?”
“Can I come?” The last word was broken off with a sharp intake of breath. “Daddy, please.”
That was all he needed. He picked his pace back up, less concerned with getting Evan to reach his release and more concerned with reaching his own. He saw Evan’s arm start to move again, the permission was all he needed to chase after his own orgasm. The result was both of them getting sloppy in their movements.
Evan came first. He gave a loud moan that was quickly cut off when Tommy gave one of the last few of his thrusts.
Tommy wasn’t far behind him, his hips stalling as he spilled into the condom.
“Fuck, Evan.” He groaned out through gritted teeth as he did.
The two stayed there for a minute, catching their breaths and coming down from their respective highs. Evan wiggled again, the silent cue that he was ready for them to move. Tommy slowly began to pull out, detaching from one another with an obscene pop. The blonde whimpered at the loss.
Tommy took one hand off the younger man’s hips, placing it on the edge of the truck bed. He used his other hand to help turn his boyfriend over. Evan helped a little by pushing himself up and into his boyfriend. He made a kissy face and the older man smiled before leaning in. This kiss being the least heated and softest of the night so far.
“Hi, baby.” He murmured against Evan’s lips.
The younger one smiled and let out a laugh.
“Hi.”
They leaned in for another and another and just one more before Tommy pulled further back and decided it was time to clean up. He took off the condom, tying it and throwing it into his truck bed to clean out later. Then he put himself back into his own underwear and jeans just before shoving a hand into his front pocket to fish out a couple of tissues and a wet wipe. He used both to clean up his boyfriend, tossing them into the truck bed when he was finished, and then helping Evan into his own pants.
Once they were situated Tommy placed both his hands on Evan’s hips for the last time. He used the leverage to pull the blonde closer to him and off the truck bed so he could shut the tailgate. Evan took the opportunity to steal a couple more kisses. Tommy smiled into every single one of them. He was so gone for this man.
He walked them backwards towards the passenger side, opening the door for the younger and helping him in. Evan, once again, using every chance he could to steal another kiss from Tommy’s lips. The older man happily obliged before letting go of the younger’s hand and shutting the door.
He heard a noise as he walked back around to the driver's side. He looked towards the bar entrance to see Myles? Michael? Whatever his name was exiting the bar in a similar fashion to Evan and Tommy earlier. He smirked to himself, letting out a chuckle before going back to his truck so he could take his boyfriend home.
#911 abc#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#911 on abc#911#tevan#kinley#firepilot#buck and tommy#kinley fic#tevan fic#bucktommy fanfic#bucktommy fic#buck x tommy#911 fic#911 fanfic#911 smut#tevan smut#kinley smut#bucktommy smut
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“wishing Paul had more of a reaction to Alice” anon, hello !!
it’s not outright or super obvious, but Paul is upset about it!! i have overanalyzed Not Your Seed to hell and back, for writing reasons & just for fun, so i have a lot of thoughts about it !!
the number is primarily about Alice & Bill’s relationship, and after the scene, things have to move quickly just for pacing, but I spent a few of my watches focusing on Paul, and i love Jon’s background acting so much
of course a lot of this comes from filling in blanks with your own hcs, views or interpretations, but this one’s mine:
Paul spends most of the beginning of Not Your Seed focused on getting him and Bill out of there before they get infected too. He looks scared when he looks at Alice, but because she’s an alien, not because Alice is dead. I think at this point, he’s distancing himself, putting up this barrier and telling himself (and Bill) that this isn’t Alice, because she’s singing and dancing and she is a threat.
But then the bridge happens !!
The spotlight falls on Alice, Bill is slightly illuminated but not upfront because this is an emotional thing for Alice (or, Not-Alice). You can see Paul holding himself as he backs out of the light, like he’s trying to comfort himself.
This is the big moment, right? “Why does it hurt to love you?” This is a huge moment, what real, human Alice has probably been thinking for years since the divorce. Even thought they’re being manipulated by this alien hivemind, those are real thoughts and feelings from Alice herself.
So then the lights come back up, and Bill at this point is numb. You can see it in his face, in the way he’s halfheartedly moving, the fact that he’s no longer trying to get Alice to break out of it. He knows his daughter is dead, he knows it’s his fault, he knows he’s let her down far too many times, and he can’t do it anymore.
Paul though. He is gripping his arms when the lights come back up, and he is visibly upset now. He stands next to Bill and they both step back as infected!Alice and the other two approach them, singing, and if you look at Paul, you can see how upset he is.
[This small part here is my favourite part of his acting in this number]
HE LEANS DOWN !! Paul is stepping away from her, but he looks into singing Alice’s eyes and leans down, like he’s looking for her !! He’s trying to see Alice, through this fucked up infection !!
He’s processed now that that was Bill’s daughter. That was Alice.
That was the little girl he used to babysit who would make him watch disney movies. That was the preteen who was moody and took advantage of his & Bill’s willingness to make her happy and not upset her. That was the teenager who still texted him sometimes, just to check in. He knew her. He cared about her. And now she was actually gone.
The bridge helped him realize that, & that’s why it’s probably my favourite part of the song (putting aside my personal relation to the lyrics), it is SO impactful, to the audience and the story. It makes it so, to Paul, instead of just to the plot, that is another person Paul has lost because of this.
It is unfortunate that you have to look so closely for these hints, but hey, Bill tries to kill himself afterwards, then dies, and then Paul gets knocked out by the fuckin military, so it makes sense, especially for an under 2 hours long musical. An upside though, is that looking so closely to notice these things gives you so much more appreciation for the wonderful actors and their talent !!
~~~
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The Rogue and Gambit Project: Previously On X-Men... Rogue (Part 2)
Yeah... I can just tell this is going to be everyone's favorite entry of this project. ;)
As we move into the late-80s, everything gets just a little more complicated. There are now multiple X-Books going (thankfully, Rogue is just in Uncanny at this point), a ton of characters to service, and story lines that sprawl into big events. Rogue kind of... gets lost, a little, in the shuffle. But there are some notable things to point out -- and one big thing *coughmagnetocough* we're gonna have to address...
For the most part, during a majority of the run up until this point, Uncanny X-Men stood alone as the sole book to find the X-Men. Suddenly, there were a bunch more. New X-Men followed the younger kids. X-Factor brought back the original team. And now the books did big event crossovers! Which - has only made comics completely muddy sense! So, instead of picking out individual issues like episodes of televisions, I need to break this down a little more in chunks...
The Mutant Massacre (Uncanny X-Men 210-219)
Uncanny X-Men #213
This particular 'event' is something that is, unfortunately, going to come back later in a big way -- though for Gambit -- though that will have consequences for Rogue, too. But... we're a long way off from there. The quick summary is basically - a group of jerks called The Marauders decide to take out the Morlocks, a group of mutants who live in the sewers because they can't pass as 'normal' looking. And, of course, the X-Men need to stop them.
Rogue gets some decent panel time. But the biggest thing is that the X-Men are finally her home. Especially as the team begins to change in big ways, especially as she's a hero now, especially as she is more open about having a big heart, she takes being an X-Men seriously.
Uncanny X-Men #217
The other big thing going on is the changing team dynamics. A lot of the older faces have left the book. Storm is dealing with a loss of powers. Wolvie has his solo going on. Kitty and Nightcrawler have gone to the book Excalibur. The team feels like it's in constant flux (and will be until the somewhat reboot in the early 90s). Rogue is, thankfully, one of the constants. And because of this, we do get to see her more!
She doesn't necessarily get a ton of new character development. But she does get to have some interesting new dynamics. Psylocke is introduced! Dazzler and Longshot join the team! Havok crawls out of the woodwork to appear! And even Jubilee (though much later) makes an appearance - though Rogue has little to do with her.
The Fall of the Mutants (Uncanny X-Men 220-227)
Uncanny X-Men #222
The next 'event' is Fall of the Mutants. Through an uncanny (see what I did there) string of events, the X-Men end up in Dallas. The Adversary (a Strom villain, really) shows up and creates chaos in Dallas. In order to stop it, all of the X-Men 'die'. Except they don't - and are saved by someone called Roma (sigh, let's not get into /her/) and they can come back, but no one will know they are alive and no one will be able to see them in any kind of media. So.... basically, it's a way to keep the X-Men out of New York and away from X-Factor, because we can't have that happening too fast....
Again, not really a whole lot of single Rogue development, but she gets to do a lot of badass things, and she is on panel quite a bit.
The other thing to note is that their given a portal to go through - something called the Siege Perilous. I'm not going to pretend I fully understand what it is - but when you go through the portal, you get to be 'reset' (or you essentially die). I'm noting it now, because I'll become important later on.
Australia (Uncanny X-Men 228-238)
Uncanny X-Men #230
The X-Men end up down in Australia, hanging out there while having adventures for a while. Despite her basher attitude, Rogue becomes one of the softer members of the team. See - she's bringing a picnic to Gateway, the unspeaking Aboriginal mutant who is basically their transportation system. Ooff, comics.
This era is kind of setting up two things - Inferno (which we'll get to in a second) and The X-Tinction agenda. Rogue ends up getting a mini-arc here with Wolverine, where the two of them end up in Genosha -- an island where mutants are basically chained up and caged. Unfortunately, it's implied that Rogue got a little ruffed up during her stay, thought at least Claremont (I think it was him) came out and said that she was not sexually assaulted here. Ooff, comics again. But Uncanny X-Men 235-238 has some great Rogue (and Wolverine) in it. Because of this, though, the Carol Danvers Psyche kinda takes over for a while, and Rogue becomes buried.
Inferno (Uncanny X-Men 239-243)
Uncanny X-Men #240
I need to take a second and talk about how during a lot of this run Dazzler and Rogue remain at odds with each other. Part of it has to do with their past, but part of it is over... Longshot. Ooff, girl needs to have a real romantic interest and fast... ;) Also, can we take a second to appreciate how 80s that outfit is?
Uncanny X-Men #242
Out of all the late 80s events, Inferno is my favorite. It's the batshit crazy tale of an ex-wife who wants to get revenge on her ex-husband, who left her for his dead girlfriend, and decides to take down an entire city by making a deal with a demon, while using her own child as a hostage. It's bonkers. But we're not here to discuss the many loves of Scott Summers ;)
Honestly, Rogue doesn't do a whole lot in this one. She gets to knock some people out. She gets knocked out. And... that's about it. Still a great read though.
Through the Siege Perilous (Uncanny X-Men 244-247)
Uncanny X-Men #246
Rogue doesn't really get to last long in a post-Inferno world. She gets to waffle a little between Carol and her own psyche. This practically gets me because the entire time she's been around so far she only has kissed to steal people's powers. Never a kiss for love. And it's a shame they were going to kill her off without letting her get one.
Uncanny X-Men #247
During a fight with Master Mold, Rogue gets tied up and sucked into the Siege Perilous, where she essential dies. And that's it! That's her story. The end...
Kinda sucky, right? Not exactly a satisfying way to end her.
Well... an entire year is going to go by in the real world before she gets to come back...
Before get to her return, though, I would like to say this. There are a ton of great panels and moments that I didn't document for this project. I really do recommend, if you have the time and means, going through and reading all of Claremont's original run. There are some really fantastic stories - that hold up relatively well all things considered. And while the Rogue development is slightly stagnant, our girl gets some truly wonderful things to do. It's definitely a full on recommendation from me.
The Savage Land (Uncanny X-Men #269, 274-275)
Rogue Pre- and Post-Siege Perilous
Alright, so let's talk about what happened in that year. The X-Office was beginning to change. Chris Claremont was beginning to near the end of his iconic run. The 80s faded into the 90s. Artist (and infamous) Jim Lee was taking over the book. The style changed - and everyone got to be a bit more sexified. The line up became really messy as there was a new X-Men team nearly every issue. And a rather handsome thief from New Orleans made his debut. (But we aren't going to talk about that yet ;))
Uncanny X-Men #269
Rogue returned through the Siege Perilous buck naked (seriously) and clean slated. All the voices in her head were gone, all her extra powers were erased, and, some would say, she got a new personality.
She was still sassy and brassy but now we got to add demure sexpot into the mix, who wears skimpy clothing even though she still can't touch anyone. And -- this is somewhat a set up for what happens next.
But first... some context. After Rogue makes it back from the Siege Perilous (and after some stuff with the Shadow King) the Carol Psyche was ripped from her own and two bodies emerged out. The not real Carol attacked Rogue and Rogue made her escape through Gateway, and ended up -- not in Genosha where the rest of the X-Men were dealing with the X-Tinction Agenda crossover (Rogue gets to sit that one out) nor out in space where the X-Men will land next, but in the Savage Land.
And you know who's waiting down there to help her out?
Y'all knew this was coming guys...
Magneto.
Buckle in, kids, we're about to talk about Rogneto.
Uncanny X-Men #274
Fun fact: This is the first issue where Rogue and Gambit are in the same issue. However, Remy is out in space while Rogue is suck in Antarctica with Magneto. And, look guys, none of this is that bad...
When Rogue first arrives down in the Savage Land, she is pursued by the clone/body/psyche of Carol, who is trying to kill her. Magneto stops Carol and outright kills her. He also kinda kills other people, too. Great start for this romance, right?
/
Uncanny X-Men #274
Anyway, he supposedly helps her heal (and eventually she'll get her Carol powers back - but at least not with the added Carol personality.) And apparently there's some kind of spark? I mean, honestly, to me it looks like he's hurting her, but their both mostly naked so this is hot, right?
Unfortunately, while this "spark" isn't anything compared to the raging fire that's about to happen in a few issues, it's going to have an effect that won't fully be put out until a bazillion years later in X-Men Legacy. And, well, this is a part of her story.
Uncanny X-Men #274
There's really not much that happens in this issue other than these panels that I'm showing you. We get a lot of inner monologue from Erik, but really nothing to show what Rogue is feeling. I realize there's a kind of grooming aspect you could place on it here, but this all happens over days, and I barely think it's any time to make any sort of real connection good or bad? It's just kind of here... being awkward...
And you know, admittedly, that bottom right panel is very pretty. That's probably the nicest thing I'll say about something Rogneto related.
Uncanny X-Men #275
For anyone who wanted Rogue with a naked Magneto, here ya go! ;)
Uncanny X-Men #275
There is a whole plot that I've been kind of ignoring - about Zaladane and her bonkers plan to take over the Savage Land. No need to worry - Magneto is going to murder her, too. And thus we get to see the biggest issue with Rogue and Magneto. They honestly have nothing in common. Sure - Rogue was a villain for a short time, and I could (maybe?) buy it back then, but all of this feels like they wanted to give Magneto a hot chick to hang off him for a few issues. Their ideologies are just too different for this to ever make any real sense.
And if that's your thing? Sure go for it - I'll never tell anyone who or what to ship. But it does nothing for me. (Sorry :/)
Uncanny X-Men #275
And this is where it ends. Really guys, I showed you all the big hits, there's nothing, really, that happens with Rogneto during this except the alleged 'spark'. Oh, and the fact that Magneto was fine letting Rogue die while he dealt with other things. Romance for the ages guys.
Magneto is going to go back to being a villain. And Rogue is going to make her way to Muir Island, where her life is about to really, really change.... ;)
But first, let's talk about Gambit...
#xmen#x men#rogue#anna marie lebeau#the rg project#marvel meta#marvel#marvel comics#i'm not going to tag it but yes I discuss Rogneto in this one#it's relatively painless though i promise
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show me where it hurts
Marcus Moreno x gn!nurse!reader
for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 3.0! my prompt was marcus moreno and nurse play, both of which I have never written about before!
summary: the heroics have a clinic on-site, so you're not sure why marcus moreno keeps turning up at yours.
words: 1.9k
warnings: non-graphic description of injury, the author knows nothing about medical care, the author saw 'we can be heroes' once, aphrodisiacs, implied sex pollen, dubcon associated with sex pollen, marcus is a little bit of a pervert, nurse kink, unethical medical care, unethical relations between nurse and patient, oral, reader has no name or description or gender, sorry if you're a marcus stan and I butchered your boy :( lol, subby!marcus, not even proofread oop
dividers by @saradika-graphics
You don’t quite understand it, until you do.
But for months, it makes no damn sense. You know the Heroics have a clinic at headquarters and medics on the team.
So why does the team leader come all the way here to your little walk-in clinic? Why does he pay in cash in full when the on-site doctors are almost definitely part of his benefits package?
You never ask. Not as the months drag to years and Marcus Moreno knocks on your door at any odd hour with no rhyme or reason, bloodied or bruised or both.
The first time, you didn’t recognize him. He had changed out of the suit into a worn pair of Levis and a soft cardigan patterned in reds and browns. Black framed glasses perched upon his nose, and the only thing you thought unusual about this man, other than his attractiveness, was the strange jagged border of the bite on his calf.
When you asked what type of animal caused the injury, he shrugged. “Alien dog,” he said, voice lilting as if he was asking you.
“Alien dog?”
He had the sense to look sheepish.
When he handed back the clipboard with his information and consent for treatment, you had heaved a heavy sigh. “Maybe lead with this first next time, Mr. Moreno,” you said, ushering him back to your single exam room.
“Sorry, doc,” he said.
“Not a doctor. Didn’t you read your paperwork?” you scolded with a teasing smile. “Or are those glasses just for disguise?”
“Not a doctor?”
“I’m a nurse practitioner,” you explained. “I do a lot of the same things as a physician. But I don’t have a doctorate, so you can’t call me doctor.”
“You’re a nurse?” he said, and you noticed a red tinge to his face.
“Are you feeling warm, Mr. Moreno?” you asked, reaching for the thermometer and tucking it under his tongue before tugging his pant leg back up to check the borders of the gash for inflamation.
His temperature was fine but his blood pressure and heart rate were elevated. “I’m going to give you antibiotics,” you said, holding a finger up against his protests. “It doesn’t look infected, but your vitals are off, and ‘alien dog’ makes me concerned.”
“I’m just… it’s not…” he tried.
“White coat syndrome?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Something like that,” he mumbled, watching the ground with interest.
When you finally caught up on the news that night, you dropped your mug of room-temperature tea at the sight of the alleged alien dog. Understatement of the fucking century. The creature on the screen with Marcus Moreno’s leg in its jaws was less like a dog and more like a furry alligator.
It’s not that he comes by frequently, but it’s enough that you’re never surprised to see him. Mutant chickens flooding the streets? Marcus Moreno knocks at your door covered in peck marks. A league of supervillains arrives with a weather manipulator? Frostbitten Marcus Moreno. A hacker sends a hypnobeam through a mall full of holiday shoppers, leading to hours of line dancing? Marcus Moreno lags in with a limp leg.
This time, though, it’s unclear what his affliction is. Until it isn’t.
He had texted—you had given him your number sometime between the 20th and 50th witching hour visit—but all it said was “coming.”
It was only 2 p.m., but you flipped the sign to closed anyway, preferring to give Marcus some privacy. It was a good thing, too, since his text was apparently dual-purposed.
He’s splotchy all over like a blossoming rash and sweat-slick. His glasses are in his jacket pocket, having been abandoned when they just kept fogging up. He’s wavering on the spot and you reach out to grab him, freezing when you realize he’s still in his tactical suit.
He never comes here in costume. He especially never comes here armed, but sure as shit, there are two katanas on his back.
You reach to yank him inside before he draws attention to himself, but he recoils.
“Don’t!” he yelps. “Don’t t-touch me.”
Instead, he waits until you step back before he squeezes into the lobby and plasters himself to the wall opposite you.
“What happened?” you say.
“Don’t know for sure,” he says, panting. “I got hit with some kind of dart.” He holds it out for you to see, as well as you can in the light that filters through the dusty window and flickering, dim fluorescents overhead. It’s small with a very sharp needle and a clear glass body. You can see the viscous remains of a thick pink liquid, akin to Pepto Bismol.
“Mr. Moreno, this really seems like something beyond my capacity,” you start.
“Please,” he gasps. “I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here, I-I…”
You sigh. “At least come into the exam room so I can get a better look at you.”
He groans. “Please don’t say things like that,” he mumbles, but inches his way over to the door.
You go to follow, and he holds up a hand.
“How am I supposed to figure out what’s wrong with you if I can’t come in?” you say with your hands on your hips.
“You have to stay on the other side of the room,” he says through gritted teeth, backing up against the table when you enter the room and shut the door.
“Start talking.”
“F-fine. I… I feel…” his face is redder than you’ve ever seen.
It’s then that you notice how he’s shed his leather jacket and is struggling to look nonchalant as he holds it at his waist.
“Like you took ten Viagra?” you wager.
He groans again, covering his face.
You can’t help but think it’s adorable. He’s always kind of adorable, like a broad, superpowered puppy.
“Mr. Moreno,” you start.
“Marcus,” he insists for the hundredth time.
“Marcus,” you acquiesce, “this really is out of my wheelhouse, here. I don’t know how to treat you when you’ve been drugged with a strange aphrodisiac. You need to see medical at headquarters.”
“I did,” he whispers.
“And they wouldn’t help you?” The idea sets your blood aboil.
“No, they… they couldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“They said it has to run its course. That I need to… I need to…” but he can’t even finish the sentence. This is not how he wanted any of this to go.
The realization burns through you. “You didn’t come here for an exam. You came here for me to treat you. But then… why did you act like you didn’t know what was wrong?”
"I’m sorry,” he groans again. “You’re going to think I’m a total creep.”
And then it adds up. The way he always visits you. The way he blushes. You thought he was just shy or self-conscious. But no.
“Oh my god,” you breathe. “You’ve been coming here for spank bank fodder?”
“N-not just, oh god, please don’t say it like that. I didn’t-I wouldn’t…” he sighs and gives up. “It didn’t start that way.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat. The disbelief. “What, is it some kind of nurse kink?”
You can tell you’ve hit his weak spot when he full body cringes.
“I’ll leave. I’m sorry,” he says, mopping the sweat off his forehead with his equally sweaty arm. “I thought if I just saw you that it might be enough to take the edge off.”
“Is that right?” you say, suddenly not finding it very funny. “Take a seat on the table.”
He opens and closes his mouth stupidly.
“Take a seat on the table, Mr. Moreno. I’m going to need to do a full exam. Would you like me to step out of the room while you undress?”
Both of you are equally floored by your boldness. It feels almost wrong, knowing he’s under the influence, but he had admitted to thinking of you while he jerked off, so you were feeling less guilty about getting off to YouTube compilations of him in action.
“Are you sure?” Marcus asks, though he’s already unzipping his suit.
You nod, mouth running dry.
He makes quick work of the suit, sitting before you in a tight pair of purple briefs that strain under the unrelenting pressure of his thick cock. They’re soaked, far more than just pre-cum.
No, it’s very apparent that he’s spilled into his pants multiple times already.
You tsk softly. “You should have come in sooner, Mr. Moreno,” you murmur, bringing your stethoscope to his bare chest and placing your fingers on the inside of his wrist. You don’t pay attention to the fluttering beats of his heart, though, instead taking in the lithe, sinewy muscle of his arms.
“Sorry, nurse,” he whispers.
Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as you tuck the thermometer under his tongue, which darts out, pink and wet, to take it in. You can’t help but moan, imagining a much better use for it.
He sits squirming on the table, paper crinkling under his ass and a puddle forming in the front, as you continue your exam. Your steady hands move the stethoscope down his back, coaching him softly through deep breaths, and taking the opportunity to feel the planes of his rippling muscles.
“Sit still,” you scold, and he whines.
“Please, I can’t take it.”
“Be a good boy for me, Marcus,” you murmur, and his whole body shudders as he comes, soaking through the saturated cotton and spilling onto the tan padding of the table.
You can’t stop yourself from swiping a finger through it and bringing it to your mouth to taste, moaning softly.
“You’re killing me,” he groans.
“Hmm, that won’t do. Hippocratic oath and all,” you say, rubbing a hand over his thigh. “Now tell me, Mr. Moreno, where does it hurt?”
“You know where it hurts,” he whines.
“Show me how you were trying to fix it on your own,” you say, ignoring his rising, pathetic whimpers.
He wastes no time freeing his cock from the underwear and fisting it, not needing any lubricant other than his own come. He tugs at it fiercely and you click your tongue at him again.
“I think I see the problem,” you say, pulling his hand away and cradling his heavy balls in your own.
“Can you help me, nurse?” he says, practically sobbing from relief at your touch.
“Oh, I definitely can,” you say, kicking out the metal step and sinking to your knees on it. You think about teasing him, but he’s clearly tortured himself enough, so you just take him into your mouth.
He comes immediately, tearful apologies pouring from his mouth, but you swallow him down and shush him soothingly after, stroking his still-hard cock with one hand.
“Shh, don’t worry. I can make it feel better,” you say between kitten licks at his sensitive tip.
He’s writhing on the table again already and sobs in earnest when you take him into your throat and bob your head.
He fists the exam table, paper shredded under his hands, as you draw orgasm after orgasm from his overspent body until finally, finally, his cock flags a little. His heart rate is steadier, but he’s exhausted, flopped back on the table with tear-stained cheeks.
“M’sorry,” he whispers again once he’s gone soft.
“Me too,” you admit. “That’s not really how I imagined this going.”
He lifts his head weakly. “You imagined this?” There’s an unmistakable echo of hope.
“Yeah,” you lay your cards on the table. “I was going to tell you I couldn’t treat you anymore first though. Ethics and all that.”
“I was going to ask you out this weekend,” he confesses, tongue loosened by the night’s activities.
“Okay,” you agree.
“What?”
“Okay, ask me out for this weekend.”
He grins, sloppy and slanted. “Can I take you on a proper date?”
You match his grin. “Mr. Moreno, I thought you’d never ask.”
#writing challenge#marcus moreno fic#marcus moreno x reader#marcus moreno x you#marcus moreno x gn!reader
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thereve actually been uhh. a lot of productions of the dn musical. several in japanese & several in korean. wikipedia says there's also a russian & a brazilian version. very exciting
#pangorambles#the problem is of course in getting my grimy little hands on recordings#mainly wanna find japan 2020 (2020????) and s korea 2022#s korea 2017 would also be nice but i wouldn't be surprised if it was pretty much the same as japan 2017#so i'm a little more interested in how it did or didn't change after a few years had passed#the russian and brazilian ones would also be cool of course#but im not sure how likely it'd be for either of them to have english subs#like i mean i know the story by now#but im still curious about lyric changes#& then for the uk version i have found clips#so i'm less itchy to find that one#(& also just kinda hoping it'll make its way back to the us)#(and i can maybe watch it in person or something)#(also i was kinda hoping there'd been more lyric revisions in the english version but#i only noticed a couple#iirc in 'kira!' the lines saying light's full name seem to have been changed in favor of the 'some punk kid' type of thing#that they used in the japanese and korean versions#and then in stalemate for whatever reason misa says something about sharing her journal instead of writing a song i think?#which ok i guess#that does make the next part make a little more sense#edit: russian version might actually just be a concert?
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some more thoughts on Eva and Natsuhi, particularly in EP8
#umineko#umineko spoilers#eva ushiromiya#natsuhi ushiromiya#evanatsu#again this isn't even necessarily with the idea of shipping in mind but i'm still gonna tag it that#the VN riddle is FUNNY because Natsuhi's is one of the only ones Eva can't figure out and the EP8 closet is gay#but with how much we see them standing next to each other alone in the golden land and how well they seem to get along#it just would have really been nice to see something more#it makes sense because of them being Ange's parents but i feel like Eva even has a more heartfelt moment with kyrie than she does natsuhi#considering how at odds they were with each other throughout the whole story it just seems a little strange(?)#that they didn't really get any actual moment. krauss could have even been part of it and it could have been all three of them#in fact it would have been really nice to see krauss admit eva worked hard and would have been great in his place#i am RAMBLING again but yeah iusdvbdjk#eva#natsuhi#my posts
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to balance the extremely odd energy i just put out here though i really do think. and i maybe think about this a lot but- i really do think. the movie is wrong because carina definitely kissed him first. send post.
#so much of this absolutely has to be. because of the way i filled out the empty parts of his writing i don't know if this would be true of#canon henry but i really do think. when speaking of hannah!henry and rora!carina she absolutely kissed him first ok ty#and not like. i don't say that because i think it's some kind of empowerment statement i just think that like#if there is one (1) place in the whole thing where he is clearly not really sure. what's going on exactly#it's between him and her. and he sets up a lot of the banter moment and definitely makes eyes and has little private moments where#he's just. he's so endeared and a little bit thrown#and he! sets things up. but she's the one that hits it home that commits so it's like#this dialogue where he is. not really asking exactly but creating places where she can go. Yeah Me Too. (?) if that#if that makes sense?? we're. we're wading into unfinished-rewrite territory here but this is actually;;;#my footing here comes from the movie (and the little bit more of it we get in the novelization!) where henry will sort of...#mostly he's just Like This i think but he shares and he offers and *yes* he's bold in that regard#and in the doing-what-he-thinks-he-must regard right but also when it comes to like.... dynamics?#or at least theirs specifically#he will. say something and then look. say something and then wait. set up and let her open up in response or not.#and she usually does! (which. smth smth she's used to no one asking. aaahhhhhh)#but all of that is just. u see how this leads me? to. i think she kissed him first#and i don't think he set it up in the same way as that .. at least half intentional ''i'll go first'' way but just in a#he would have found some way to make it known he likes her and i just think#when the first kiss happens it's because he did something really stupidly endearing and she couldn't bear it and i think#she kissed him first is all#woooo hannah's on her ship bullshit let's goooooo#oh i forgot about the very-run-through-the-airport thought until just now but i'm back on that technically aren't i#i said it there too.#anyway carina! kissed! him! first!!#(he did -however- kiss her back like three times in the next couple seconds)
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#tag talk#risk of rain 2 ost is such good workout music it's not quite as hardcore as doom but it still gives you that hype#doom is a little too much for me but ror2 has a lot more of a chill vibe while still giving you unstoppable killer energy#I love working out. did I already say this? idk. it gives me the same good feelings as sex does. a well used body#I like my body heating itself. feeling good and strong and loose and warm and able.#I've also gained almost two pounds which is hype and cool#also I was at work and I lifted a 90lb bag of concrete and a customer was like “damn you're strong” and like. hell yeah I am#I was wearing a skirt and my hair done up and so I got seen as she/her hence the surprise.#but like. hell yeah I'm strong! and I like it. I like being capable#OH I JUST REALIZED I'M SUCH AN IDIOT#I get understimulated so I want sex and then I'm good for a while until I get understimulated again#I'm literally so dumb that's my fucking cycle#holy shit that makes so much sense I literally had this knowledge and all the pieces I just never really put them together#congrats the answer is I am actually ace until the next time I question whether I'm actually ace or not#anyway I'm so smart and clever for figuring out another part of myself I actually really do feel cool for figuring that out
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What is Sukuna's love language?
Good question. Sukuna doesn't love you. Or at least that's what he tells you.
But the mere fact you've lived this long in his presence without having your face sliced is enough proof. He says it's just because he's not bored of you yet.
Then again, he finds it strangely warm when your annoying ass is on his lap and your stupid face is nuzzled into his neck. He's mad that a weak thing like you, who should be scared shitless of him is clinging onto him like a little brat, and finding her comfort. You're so stupid, but it makes him even more mad when he sees your stupid smile and can't bring himself to push you off.
And of course there's your ridiculous nicknames. It's beyond him how you have the guts to call him "kuna" and "suku" and whatnot. He doesn't even know why he allows it. And don't you dare bring up the smile his lips twitch into when you call him those idiotic names. It's not like he loves you or something—
He doesn't love you. Nope. You're dumb if you think the warm blanket you're wrapped into is his doing. Sukuna doesn't even need a blanket to be warm. But when he sees you sleeping uncomfortably on a cold night, he says, "Tch. What a stupid brat." And there's a warm blanket on the bed the next night. But don't you bring that up.
And no, he doesn't kill people who look at you. Totally not. The male servants keep disappearing, but it's definitely not his doing, okay? You're just a silly brat. The very pretty kimonos left in your chambers by the servants aren't because he wanted to, okay? He simply says its because you have no sense of clothing.
Not like his eyes never leave you when you twirl in your new pretty kimono as you try it on.
He also insists that 'he can't stand ugly brats'. So maybe that explains why your drawers are filled with jewellery.
It never happened that the concubine who told you you're nothing special didn't disappear the very next hour after he heard your soft cries. You don't ask him why there's stains of red on his kimono. You know exactly why.
And its not like he brushes stray strands of your hair from your sleeping face and kisses your head. You were just dreaming, okay? Stop being ridiculous. And it's definitely not like he gets super passive-aggressive when you're not coddling him. Don't be a stupid brat.
You knitted for him a very silly black scarf once. Its now an essential part of his daily wear. He totally doesn't like the cute smile on your face and the light in your eyes when you see him wear it.
So stop being stupid, okay? Just because he does things for you that he'd never even think of doing for anyone, and would literally burn down the world and slaughter people in case something happens to you, or barely ever let's you out of his sight, is not because he loves you or something!
#ruins posts#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#sukuna fluff#jjk fluff#ryomen sukuna#sukuna
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won't you be my sunshine-a.h.
a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!
Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man.
This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.
The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.
Which isn’t to say that he has one.
There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk.
It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.
That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership.
Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you.
He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself.
“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning.
He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks.
“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”
She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection.
He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone.
He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation.
He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically.
It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this.
“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting.
“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride.
“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”
It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth.
He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips.
“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic.
It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?)
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner imagines#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner blurbs#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotch fic#hotch#hotch x reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#ssa aaron hotchner#agent hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fic
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thinking about mafia!Simon wanting to help shy!fem!Reader with confidence in the bedroom again ):
you just don't see what he does! he's infatuated with you, and yet you look at yourself in the mirror and feel like you're still not fully grown into yourself yet. and when you and Simon have sex? god, your thoughts run too rampant with this expectation to perform, to look beautiful, to be desirable that half the time it's difficult for you to get in the mood.
Simon's fix for it? let him record him fucking you.
you didn't think he was serious until he's got you on your back with his cock buried so deep in your cunt you swear he takes the breath from your very lungs with each thrust. yet, if anything, it makes you feel more self conscious than before. are the sounds you make too annoying? is the expression on your face weird? you're not a porn star, you're just... you. nothing special.
and still, Simon talks you through it. he's holding his phone with as much precision as he can manage as he drills into you, and he grunts praises between each thrust. "just like that sweetheart... so goddamn beautiful fuck... gonna make you see what i see, yeah?"
he doesn't show you the video until the next day when he has you nestled between his legs, your back against his chest and his phone in front of both of you. the video starts playing and you really don't want to watch it but a part of you is still a little curious. so you view it with a careful eye, and you're speechless at what you see. you had never seen yourself from that angle before, eyes squeezed tight in a fucked out bliss, senses too overwhelmed to take in the sight of your boyfriend fucking you. what you had thought was an attempt to cover your chest with your arms had actually been you squeezing your tits together as if putting them on display, as proved by the recording.
then there was the view between your thighs. the way your legs spread to accommodate Simon's hips looked so obscene from his angle, but the star of the show was the way your cunt swallowed him whole. you watch your own pussy pulse as he buried himself in you. each time he pulled out you gripped onto him as if demanding that he come back. and his grunts. the sound of him groaning right into the microphone had your cunt fluttering along nothing.
"see?" he prompts, breath hot on the shell of your ear as his hand dips between your legs. a small squeak leaves you as he paws at you through the fabric of your clothes. you pray that he doesn't notice the growing heat there, but judging by the way he chuckles you know there was no chance in hell you could hide something like that from him. "yeah, you do see, don't you? got all worked up over watching me fuck you, huh? why don't we fix that?"
#mafia!ghost#mafia!simon#mafia!141#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader smut#ghost x reader smut
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best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Chan x you
this will become a series, I’ll make a scenario like this for all the members.
Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
genre: romance, friends to lovers
warnings: asshole guy who thinks sex is required in exchange of a dinner
“I’m sorry but I really have to go, it’s a family emergency. But I’ll call you.” This guy is really pissing you off, but he’s tall and pretty muscular and the vibes you got from him during the (luckily short) date make you uncomfortable.
“Are you really using this lazy excuse? I invited you to dinner, I’m gonna pay, so the least you could do is to put it out there!” You blink in disbelief, he really is a creepy guy. Chan is on his way though, so the thought comforts you a little. You reach into your bag and grab a few bills and, as you place them on the table, you give the guy a sarcastic smile. “I can pay for my own dinner.”
Grabbing your jacket you turn your back to him, ready to leave, but the asshole grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him. You don’t have the time to do anything because a hand is suddenly around the guy’s wrist like a vice.
“Let her go immediately or I’m going to break your arm.” You’ve never heard Chan talking with such ice in his voice and a shiver runs along your spine.
“Fuck you both. I should have known you were a frigid bitch!” the guy lets you go and raises his free hand in surrender. Before letting him go, Chan looks at you for the first time since his arrival. “Are you okay?” You nod, confused. You thought your crush for Chan was long gone, but if the butterflies in your stomach are any indication, your crush is alive and burning.
Not even 5 minutes later, in a cab with Chan sitting next to you, you catch the end of your best friend’s sentence: “…can’t believe that asshole!”
“You know what’s funny? He called me a ‘frigid bitch’. Isn’t that a bizarre insult? What does it even mean?” Now that you’re with Chan, you’re calm and not scared anymore.
You hear him laughing, shaking his head. “Like anything that came out of his mouth made any sense… but really, are you okay?” You nod again. You’re not scared, you’re not uncomfortable, but something in your chest trembles at the idea of parting with Chan. “Can you stay over tonight?”, you ask quietly.
When you close the door, the atmosphere is uncommonly quiet and tense. Did you make Chan uncomfortable? Did he have other plans? Is he annoyed with you for always needing him? As all those thoughts run across your head, he slips out of his shoes and goes straight to the kitchen, feeling at home in your small apartment. “Can I steal some ramen? I didn’t have the time to eat a proper dinner.” In lieu of an affirmative answer, you wash your hands and start preparing a quick dinner for Chan. “I’m sorry I hijacked your night, Channie.”
“What are you talking about? My plans involved ramen at the dorms and hearing Hyunjin and Jisung screaming against the tv. They started a new drama”, he explains watching you moving around the kitchen. He loves to look at you while you’re busy, while you’re too occupied with something else to notice him studying you, watching you with love in his eyes. Tonight was once again proof you only saw him as a friend and nothing more: otherwise you wouldn’t have gone on a date, right?
Wrong.
You spent ages crushing over him, but once you were sure he felt nothing for you, you tried (in vain, apparently) to get over him.
You place a steaming bowl of food in front of him and sit at the table, looking at him.
“No more lame dates. No, you know what? No more dates.”
“You let a couple of bad guys ruin your search for true love?”
Well, he’s not gonna complain, but he also doesn’t want a bad experience to scar your hopes for romance. “Nah, they’re not worth it. My perfect match is not interested in me anyway.”
Fuck, you shouldn’t have said something like that, now he’s gonna ask questions.
“Perfect march, uh?”
You wave your hand, almost slapping away the topic. “Eat your food, Chan.”
“I thought you told me everything,” he pouts and you’re a weak weak person, how can you be tough in front of his pout?
“There is someone I like, I liked him for a while but it’s unreciprocated, so there’s no point in talking about him.”
“Then he’s dumb. Tell me his name?”
“You kinda know him, so I’d rather not… you know, don’t wanna make it weird.” Chan looks at you with a weird something in his eyes you can’t really understand, but for the sake of your secret you let it slide.
“Movie?”
The movie has been on for at least an hour but neither of you is really watching it. You’re cuddled on the couch, Chan’s head on your lap and your fingers slowly playing with his hair. It’s one of his favorite cuddling positions, and you love it cause you have the chance to watch him without being noticed.
“I wish you’d tell me who he is.”
You freeze in surprise, fingers stilling on his head.
“Chan…”
“No wait, listen for a second.” He sits now, and bites his lip. “We’ve always told pretty much everything, but there are things I haven’t told you either. So I will tell you something secret about me if you tell me who he is.”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“Because!”
He’s quick to get on his feet, walking on the small carpet in front of the tv. “Because I wanna know who’s this dumb guy who is not in love with you. What’s not to love? He’s lucky enough you are interested in him, something I’d give an arm for, and he’s not on his knees worshiping you?” He then freezes, like something hit him and trains his eyes on the floor. “Forget what I said”.
What did he say? Are you drunk and incapable of understanding or Chan just said he’d give an arm to have you interested in him? Something swells into your chest and you decide to be bold for once.
“Do you like me, Chan?”
He stills his pacing, gaze still trained to the floor, and nods carefully.
“It’s you.”
“Mh?”
“The guy I like, it’s you.”
He’s gonna have a sore neck tomorrow, considering the speed in which he raises his head.
“Me?” You nod, with a hopeful smile on your lips.
“I was convinced you felt nothing for me…”
You don’t know which one of you moved first, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you’re kissing, now. You have his wet, soft and pillowy lips on yours, his tongue asking to be let in your mouth, your hands holding the other tight, almost to make sure this is real and you’re not going to vanish any seconds now.
“We’re such a clichè” he says on your lips, laughing cutely.
“Maybe. But I like it anyway.”
If being a clichè is what brought you two finally together, then so be it.
#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x reader#bluejutdae#skz#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#skz Smau#skz fake texts#stray kids smau#stray kids fake texts#chan scenarios#chan fanfic#Thiana writes Chan
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Please... more viking!Simon... midterm week was harsh. I am in need of my current comfort au. Please😭more🗣✊️
okay fine aftermath of viking!simon angst/jealousy
c/w: simon is an insensitive prick, angst/no comfort, don’t worry this isn’t the last part they will be happy, arguments
you didn’t regret it despite how much simon wished you would. there was no need to make a scene, he says. you scoffed when he said that. he hasn’t even seen you make a scene yet but you will if he carries on like this
when you planted yourself right on his lap in front of the new healer, he still wrapped an arm over your hips and pulled you against his chest. he knew you were just staking your claim on him. part of him enjoyed your little stunt. a little jealousy makes a man feel wanted
but another part of him just wishes you would drop it. they simply know each other through work and nothing more but no matter how much he tries to convince you that he doesn’t care for her in anything other than a professional sense, you quip back saying that you don’t want him caring about her in any sense
“she offered to move…” he grumbles, tending to the fireplace in your shared bedroom. you glare daggers into his back when he says that
“she did no such thing. if she thought she was sat in my seat, she should have stood up and moved. and you shouldn’t have let her take my seat.” you hiss, trying not to wake the sleeping baby in the crib next to your bed
“you weren’t sitting in it.” he shrugs, “it was a friendly conversation. nothing more.” he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over to check on his sleeping baby with a tenderness that would make you melt if you weren’t so bloody angry with him
“seems like you have a lot of friendly conversations with her.” you spit, folding your arms across your chest. your words clearly hit a nerve judging by the way he immediately stands and actually faces you
“enough. I don’t like what you’re implying, wife.” he raises his tone slightly, pointing a finger at you as though he was a parent scolding their child. “I have been nothing but devoted to you and our children. I won’t speak on this again.”
you narrow your eyes at him, chewing on your tongue to prevent yourself from lashing out,
“fine.” you hiss, throwing the covers back and climbing into bed with your back to him. you hear him sigh and blow out the candle on his side of the bed before settling down on the mattress himself
you feel him reach out to gently grab your shoulder, probably to pull you against him like he does most nights but you just jerk your shoulder out of his grip,
“don’t.” you say firmly and you don’t miss the scoff that leaves his mouth before he turns over but you’re sure he misses the soft sniffles and tears that slip down your cheeks as you lay back to back with your husband, his presence far away even though he’s supposed to be right next to you
#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#viking!simon#ghost x reader#mw2#cod mw2#ghost
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ex's or not? cs55
summary: y/n and carlos once were the it couple, how are their lives after the breakup? did everyone move on?
warnings: writing this i was sick, i was done and i was ready to delete so enjoyy
i also was supposed to write part 2 to i'll be waiting but oh well...
y/njazzy
liked by lilymunihe, carmenmundt, and 65 000 more
y/njazzy Prague you've been great, next up my beloved Vienna 🍒
comments
y/nstan mother is GLOWING
lilymunihe music to my ears (literally) 🫶🫶
y/njazzy i'm blushing 😊 💋
alexandrasaintmleux i haven't heard you play for agesss, see you in Vienna ig
y/njazzy and whose fault it is?? clearly not mine missy
alexandrasaintmleux oh look at the time, i have to go !!!
chillis the post breakup glow up is reaaal
loverofy/n can we expect some album soon queen?
charlesleclerc exactly @/y/njazzy, care to share with the class???
y/njazzy i will not confirm nor deny
y/njazzy and lord perceval do not push my limits. besides, if you would honour me with your presence, you would know. the choice is yours
charlesleclerc no comment.
user1 she calls him the way that carlos does...
jazzychill she looks so hot in red 🔥
chillistan don't you find it weird that after all charles is in her comments?
y/nfan through all the years y/n was with carlos, she formed a friendship with charles (especially with carlos in ferrari) and other people from the paddock, so it's nothing weird
jazzlover besides, alex and y/n are besties, no?
y/nlos do you remember how carlos would always melt when y/n wear red??? because i do.
carlossainz55
liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, y/njazzy, and 2,093,728 more
carlossainz55 🌶🍔☀️
comments
soylago ON MY KNEEEES
charlosfan what do they feed our drivers, he and charles are soooo hot
chillis the second photo, two plates, carlos sainz is that a date?
landonorris and where are pics from our little golf tournament 🤔🤔🤔 oh, maybe they aren't here because YOU LOST AHAHAHAHHA
carlossainz55 cabron we all know you cheated.
landonorris what a sore loser we have here
charlesleclerc do you remember when we played uno once?
maxverstappen i wonder why you played uno only once
charlesleclerc lando almost lost an eye
landonorris I ALMOST DIED, HE TRIED TO KILL ME
carlossainz55 do NOT listen to them, those situations did not happen
carlossteponme Y/N LIKED???!!
y/nfan they actually still like eachothers posts, i believe they said something about mutual breakup and that there's no hard feelings between them
y/njazzy
liked by yourbestie, lilymunihe, and 64,728 more
y/njazzy new project coming up 🔜
comments
landonorris tell me who he is.
y/njazzy no❤️
landonorris and why exactly ???
y/njazzy i'll tell you, you'll tell oscar, oscar will tell logan, logan alex, and then magically the whole grid will know
landonorris you won't even tell your best friend?
y/njazzy you're talking about yourself or ?
landonorris PARDON #exbesties #friendshipover #offended
y/njazzy WAR IS OVEEEER
landonorris bye.
lilymunihe A MAN? A MAN? A MA-A-A-AN
lilymunihe girlies to the gc riGHT IN THIS MOMENT
lilymunihe avengers ASSEMBLE @/alexandrasaintmleux @/carmenmundt
carmenmundt i think we've missed a chapter here...
y/njazzy alex didn't.
carmenmundt excuse me !
lilymunihe SHE DID WHAT
alexandrasaintmleux tf y/n? i thought i meant something to you?
y/njazzy if i'm going down i'm taking everybody with me 😘😘😘
alexandrasaintmleux DO NOT QUOTE CHANDLER RN
user1 carlosy/nnation how are we feeling
user2 we don't.
user5 i have an idea...
user3 don't. don't give me hope
user7 fuck the guy NEW PROJECT IN THE MAKING ??? NEW MUSIC ???
user9 do i sense some movie soundtrack
liked by autor
user2 can you imagine
user5 Y/N LIKED !!!!!
carlossainz55
liked by maxverstappen, y/njazzy and 2,836,267
carlossainz55 getaway with mi amor
comments
charlesleclerc i pay my respects to her
carlossainz55 ¿disculpe?
charlesleclerc for putting up with you 😘
user carlos sainz jr i was NOT familiar
user1 which one of you bastards stole my man
reyesvdec ❤️
user2 APPROVED BY MAMA SAINZ
user6 i miss her and y/n together in the paddock
user5 that's y/n. mark my words
user1 i truly aspire to be as delusional as you
y/njazzy she's a lucky girl
carlossainz55 im a lucky boy*
user8 y/n's comment? im dead
user3 carlos' response?????? i am crying, the boy really is in love
y/njazzy
liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec and 482,471 more
y/njazzy love. love love love.
comments
user8 our girl is in loooove 🥹
alexandrasaintmleux match made in heaven
carmenmundt you compliment eachother so well 🫶
landonorris you two are disgusting
y/njazzy jealousy, jealousy
user5 the luckiest girl???? i wonder why... maybe because she has carlos sainz
user ring ring, that's the mental ward calling for you
lilymunihe i'm heartbroken, how could you leave me
alex_albon execuse me? i'm right here??
y/njazzy lily it's just an act, let's run away together
lilymunihe i am ready to go
alex_albon HEY ITS NOT FAIR
alex_albon he can't even stand up for himself
carlosssainz55 he can
carlossainz55
liked by y/njazzy, landonorris and 5,839,821
carlossainz55 mi amor, you're the closest to heaven that I have ever been. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I promise to cherish you forever. I am so incredibly grateful for you and everything you do. I want to thank you for being there for me, even after we broke up. there is no one else on this earth taht i would spend my life with. you are my person, and I am yours.
comments
georgerussell mate leave something for us
alex_albon what I am supposed to do rn, lily won't let me in to our apartment
charlesleclerc gentelmen we are so finished
landonorris die lol 👎
oscarpiastri yk that they can see you crying, right?
y/njazzy my one and only ❤️
user can somebody check on user5
user5 I KNEW I WAS NOT CRAZY
user5 PARENTS ARE REALLY BACK TOGETHER
y/njazzy
liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec and 171,729,819 more
y/njazzy the only ex i would ever come back to 💋💋💋
comments
alexandrasaintmleux finally the ferrari girls are reunited
y/njazzy not for too long
alexandrasaintmleux foul
charlesleclerc too soon y/n, too soon
maxverstappen i won't even ask about the last pic
carlossainz55 the less you know the better you sleep
landonorris i cannot belive this is happening
y/njazzy sucks to suck ig
carlossainz55 only ex i couldn't move on from 🫶🫶🫶
y/njazzy you flatter me
user1 the difference in the capitions pls ✋️
#carlos sainz x reader#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz smau#f1 smau#carlos sainz imagine#f1 imagine#formula one x reader
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˗ˏˋ guilty pleasures ˎˊ˗
☆ content: eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, reader cheats on her loser boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, masturbation, pussy job, just filth, written very fast my apologies, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised 18+
☆ word count: ~4.2k
☆ a/n: just a warm-up that got out of hand
Your boyfriend sucks. That isn’t an opinion, either. It’s a fact. The sky is blue; what goes up will always come back down; your boyfriend is and will forever be a jackass.
At least, according to your friends, Eren in particular. Sometimes according to you, too—let’s not leave that part out, it’s important.
Countless times, your boyfriend had driven you to wit’s end and back because yes, you always took him back. You aren’t the type to leave a kicked puppy out in the rain or a groveling man lying on your doorstep. He’d come crawling back, looking all lovesick and apologetic, and you’re ashamed to admit it hasn’t failed him yet.
Listen, Eren is just your friend. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of your relationship any more than the next guy. What he knows for sure is that your boyfriend generally sucks as a human being, and he knows you know it, too.
And it’s about time he does something about it.
Tonight’s as good a night as ever to make a move. Eren’s roommate, Armin, insists on hosting a game night every other week-ish to ‘get the gang together,’ as he likes to say. But game nights are hard. No one likes to learn rules. So game nights soon devolved into movie nights, which turned into drinking nights after no one could agree on a movie.
That’s the plan for this evening: drinking the beer Jean brought along with a few leftover seltzers from the last time they got together, and spending some time with you. Alone.
You walked into the apartment huffing and puffing, pissed over whatever your boyfriend did or didn’t do. You’ve spent most of the night wallowing in the displeasure, trying to hide it, but it’s not working; Eren can tell you’re furiously texting Sasha every little detail despite sitting across from one another.
If you were to ask any of your friends, they’d say they previously believed you and Eren would date. You had that energy about you—still do, frankly. But then you met your boyfriend and you’ve been seeing each other ever since. On and off, of course.
Eren dated other people, too. And sure, he liked them, but that’s all. Finding happiness with something (or someone) is difficult when he constantly sees the greener grass on the other side.
He used to believe it was a timing thing, the reason you never hooked up. It made sense back then. But now, Eren knows it’s not a timing thing because he’s single and you can dump your boyfriend any time you want—if that’s what you want.
Eren can pry. He can be forthright and ask what you’re texting Sasha about. But that’d get him nowhere; you’d undoubtedly reply, ‘Girl stuff,’ and let the subject die there.
He noticed you don’t talk about your boyfriend problems when he’s around. Not that he expects you to. He would have written it off by now if he hadn’t heard you confiding in Armin about it. Jean and Connie, too. How frustrating it is that you never tell the one genuinely curious person. The one who wants to know and wants to show you how much better things could be, with him.
So Eren does just that. He catches you at the right moment, once it’s just the two of you. Armin was in bed and Sasha already left, taking Jean and Connie with her. The only guests remaining are you and Mikasa—she’s been sitting heavy-eyed on the couch for the last twenty minutes and would probably be out cold in the next ten.
Then there’s you, all squirmy beside him.
“Are you cold?” Eren asks. He knows you’re not, but he also knows you’d never answer the more direct ‘Are you okay?’
“I’m fine,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m just—”
“Having a long night?” Eren guesses.
You merely sigh, but it’s weighty enough that it sounds like you’ve been holding it in for a while, like you must’ve needed it.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
It’s vague, but you still feel you said too much.
You fiddle with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. You focus on that rather than the fact that you can no longer bring yourself to meet Eren’s eyes; it’s too much, it makes your insides burn uncomfortably hot.
You can’t deny how Eren makes you feel. Even more, you can’t deny that you came over tonight with him on your mind—the sort of thoughts you shouldn’t have while tangled up with another guy.
“Is there anything I can do,” Eren slides closer to you, “to make your night better?”
Yes, you think. Yes, yes, yes.
You shake your head, gaze fixed on his leg pressing against yours.
“It’s not your problem to fix,” you try to assure, but it lacks any sureness. Instead, it’s demure and… inviting? You almost made it sound like a dare.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Eren says, always up for a challenge, especially if you’re the prize at the end.
You’re better than this, you tell yourself. You’re above this.
At the same time, you can’t help but think: what would your boyfriend do if the roles were reversed? You’ve argued about his fidelity before—hell, you argued about it hours ago—and you have no more clarity than you did from the start.
Maybe you haven’t been perfect, either. Maybe there were times you should’ve told Eren to cut out the flirting and even times you shouldn’t have reciprocated it. You thought it was harmless then, that you’d never end up exactly where you are now. You also never imagined how invigorating, how right, it would feel.
Eren places his large hand on your thigh, tentatively at first, light despite the guilt weighing down on you. When you don’t stop him, he becomes confident. He slides his hand higher, squeezes you gently. It’s chaste, something that could still pass as friendly if not for the way it made you weak.
I am absolutely not above this.
That’s how you ended up in his bedroom. Eren whispered for Mikasa and when she didn’t respond, he took it as the all-clear—that no one would know if you decided to head somewhere more private. Eren snuck you down the hall, shut the door behind you, and had you to himself, for the first time.
Your heart thrums in your ears. It’s adrenaline, anticipation, a rush you never want to end. You hardly hear him when he asks, “How can I make your night better?” He nears you in a step. “What would you like me to do?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” you murmur. He wants to hear you say it: that you want him. You want his mouth on yours, maybe on your neck, his hands on your chest, smoothing down your hips and between your legs. You don’t give him the satisfaction of it.
You lean into Eren without a word. He moves with you, meeting you halfway. You lead, he follows. You’re the one in the relationship, not him.
You tilt your chin high to meet him. He catches it between his fingers, gently guiding you to him. Your noses brush; your lips don’t, but you’re so, so close. Close enough for your lashes to flutter softly against his cheek, for you to feel every one of his hot breaths as they break over your lips. It’s intoxicating. It’s not enough. But you can’t make yourself seal the fateful gap between you.
“I can’t,” you regretfully stammer. It physically hurts to say the words. You wound the devil sitting atop your shoulder.
Eren doesn’t say anything, only pulls away from you. You don’t feel in control of your hand when it snatches a fistful of his shirt. You keep him there, still as close as before, eyes flitting between his pupils, big and blown, and his lips. He remains frozen, silent. He lets you decide where this would or wouldn’t go.
“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know what do to,” you bemoan. Your head is a spinny, screwed-up mess. Screwed up from forbidden fantasies and raging hormones and the pool of warmth spreading in the depths of your stomach—all from him.
“What do you want to do?” Eren asks in a low voice.
It’s coaxing, cloying, but it’s needful at the same time. It’s a voice you’ve never heard from him, yet it’s familiar. It’s reminiscent of the same need burning inside you, so hot you think it might create a hole, one perhaps only he can fill.
You lick your bottom lip only to find your mouth has gone dry.
Eren nudges the tip of his nose against yours. “I can tell you what I want to do, if that would help.”
He nuzzles lower, beneath your jawline. He doesn’t kiss you there—no, he wouldn’t do that. What he does is worse. It’s teasing. His breath fans over your ear and sends a shudder down your spine. He needs you not only to hear but to feel every word, every dirty thing he has imagined doing with you.
“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he breathes against the side of your face, warming you from the inside out. He clasps his hand over yours, then slips it between your legs. “And I want to watch.”
Eren touches your hand, encouraging you to rub. You feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes, like there’s a fire in your belly. You finally let its flames engulf you and god, burning never felt so damn good.
You’re dizzy, you’re flustered—how could he possibly say that with such calmness? More than anything, you’re dumb to everything except the boy in front of you.
“Can you do that for me?” he asks, smooth and soothing. “I’ll only look. I won’t touch, I promise.”
It’s a lousy excuse for a loophole. Actually, it doesn’t even qualify as a loophole.
Eren leans back, holding your shoulders in his hands. He looks you in the eyes and again, he insists, “No touching.”
Loophole or not, you can’t find it within you to care. You trust him, you think. Either that or your brain short-circuits because you can only repeat back, “No touching,” as you bob your pretty little head.
Eren smiles down at you, runs his knuckles down the side of your face. It’s gentle, it’s praising, it brings—no, it yanks you back to him.
“Lay on the bed,” he says.
You do as you’re told, laying back on your forearms. He tugs your bottoms off with ease and reveals a pair of pale blue panties—a telling color. When you spread your legs for him, he can see how you’ve stained them with your arousal, soaked and ruined after some innocent teasing.
You touch yourself without him having to ask. You trace over the damp patch and play with your clit through the fabric. He sees how easily your panties slip between your folds, how fucking wet you are, and has to stifle a curse.
Eren drops to his knees, nestled between your legs at the foot of the bed. He has a hand on either of your thighs, almost white-knuckling the plush skin.
“Look at that.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “You like it when I talk to you, huh? When I tell you what to do?”
You whine at the words, rub your clit faster. You want to come.
“So needy. What’s the rush?” Eren tuts. He climbs onto the bed, propping his back against the headboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As he says it, his hand travels lower. Dangerously low. It draws your attention to how hard he is, his insistent cock tenting in his sweatpants. He palms over it once, then twice, then grips himself through the fabric. Fuck.
You stare with too much interest. The corner of Eren’s lip curls into a smirk when you have to close your hungry mouth. He’s just as greedy, though, just as riled up as you. Even the touch of his own hand has his arm muscles tightening and twitching.
You crawl over to his side and try to relax into the pillows as best as you can. Your shoulders droop, your knees fall to either side, but there’s a tremble to your hand as it returns between your legs. Your touch remains feather-light, almost a tickle, as you dance a finger along the hem of your underwear. You watch lecherously, with your head lolled to one side as Eren mirrors you—you’re still leading. His thumb dips below his waistband.
This still counts as ‘no touching,’ right?
Eren shoves his hand down his sweatpants. You can’t see it when he takes his cock in his hand, only the outline of him slowly working over his length underneath the fabric.
Your eyes ask the question your lips wouldn’t dare to ask. Eren responds, “You first.” His eyes flicker to your crotch—your panties, more specifically.
Your fingers stutter and pause. You’ve already dipped your toes into the corrupt waters, so you might as well take the full plunge.
You tuck your underwear to the side, pinching them in the crease of your thigh. Your fingers are almost cold against your wet, hot skin and you shiver in response, letting the feeling wreck down your spine. You clench around nothing, whimpering just as helplessly.
“Fuck,” Eren breathes, an incidental hiss.
He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and his cock slaps his front. He aches for anything more than his hand, but it’s all he has right now. It’s agonizing how what he needs is so damn close, but out of reach.
He pumps himself faster, tightening his grip around the sensitive tip to mimic your cunt.
He can only catch glimpses of it. Your panties persistently get in his way, and when they aren’t, you’re having to tug them back to the side. Your gasps and moans turn to little grunts, your frustration staving off your orgasm even further.
Eren goes to grab your underwear but stops himself short.
“Take them off,” he tells you, somewhere between a request and a demand. If this is his one chance to be with you, to see you, then he’s going to see all of you.
You listen. Your hand slips from between your legs and a sticky string connecting your fingers to your cunt snaps. You hope Eren didn’t see it, but you’re sure he did based on the impatient sound that comes from the back of his throat. You lift your hips from the bed and shimmy your underwear down your legs. Then you kick them to the floor.
You don’t settle back into the bed before Eren says, “I want to see more of you,” because this still isn’t enough. “C’mere.”
He adjusts you to his liking until you’re in front of him, lying back on your elbows, spread, with your feet caging his hips. It’s a vulnerable position, you admit. One where you’re completely bare and completely on display and there’s no shying away. You may have even found it embarrassing if not for how turned on you are. The urge to come is nagging, simmering for so long that you fear you may boil over and do something you’ll regret later.
“Shit.” Eren’s in awe of the sight before him: your glistening cunt, swollen and practically begging to come, and the dreamy expression on your face. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever looked, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Your eyes are as alert as they are moony, as confident as they are flustered; a doe locked in his headlights, willing to eat out of his palm despite her better judgment.
“Spread yourself for me,” he murmurs. You do it with two fingers. “God, look at you.”
So pretty. What a shame it was that such a pretty pussy would go unfucked tonight.
Eren leans back again, this time with a complacent hand tucked behind his head. He spits into his other, then slathers it over his length, unblushing to how your eyes follow every fluid movement.
“Go ahead,” he says, still calmly fisting his cock. “For real this time. Make yourself come for me.”
The encouragement travels straight to your core. You sink your middle finger inside first, then you add another. Your walls pulse, sucking the digits in further. You curve them, drag them in and out, in and out, until you find a pace that has your thighs threatening to snap shut. You pull out of yourself one last time and, with properly wetted fingers, you return to your neglected clit. It only takes a few slick circles before your breath quickens.
“Yeah, just like that—fuck.” Eren feels his cock throb against his palm. He slows, pulling and tightening his grip, still pretending his hand is anywhere near as soft as your pussy. “You’ve listened so well. You deserve to come, don’t you think?”
You moan something incoherent.
“Tell me,” he says, smug and urgent, somehow at once. “Tell me what a good girl you’ve been. That you deserve to come.”
Slippery, unforgiving sounds fill the room, from the both of you, but you’ve already shed any shred of decency you had left. You dipped your toes first, and then you took a fateful dive. But now, the current has stripped away any semblance of control you had—or thought you had.
You’ve become a passenger inside your own body. Every motion feels wild and unpredictable, yet intimately inevitable. It’s a kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations. It’s strange and exhilarating. It’s this raw and primal surrender to only what’s physical and nothing more.
Flowery language aside, you know one thing for sure: as much as you enjoy hearing him talk filth to you; he enjoys hearing you just as much.
“I’m a—ah, I’m your good girl,” you moan shakily. Your skin becomes unbelievably hot, your fingers stuttering, struggling to keep up with your neediness. “I d-deserve to come.”
His good girl.
Eren’s stomach lurches, abdominals tightening. He nearly comes.
What a fucking gift you are. How lucky Eren feels to witness how you get yourself off when no one’s around, how you like to tease yourself—maybe even pretend he’s the one teasing you.
You bring a hand to your chest, gingerly caressing the tips of your fingers along your nipple that pokes through your shirt. You slide the hand over your breast before groping it fully.
“Can I see your tits?” Eren blurts. Once again, there’s no use for dancing around the truth of the matter anymore: you both wanted to get off.
“You first.” You giggle a little, all breathy, then restate, “Take off your shirt.”
Eren smiles at you before stripping, revealing a cute flush creeping up his chest. You stick to your promise, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside. You skipped putting on a bra this evening because it was supposed to be a quiet night-in with friends, but it worked out pretty well for this, too.
You graze your fingers over the peaks of your breasts, bouncing just so with every rub, rub, rub of your opposite hand. You bite back a harsh gasp, but little hums escape past your teeth, anyway.
Eren’s thighs twitch. He fights the urge to buck his hips, to fuck up into nothing. His pants turn strained, exasperated. He thinks he might be numb to his hand at this point. He could use his spit again, but why should he have to when you’re right there, as desperate as he is?
Your name’s a raspy plea on his tongue. His hands smooth up your legs as he coos, “I need to feel you, baby.” His thumbs stroke your inner thighs, growing extremely close to the apex between them. “Need you to help me come. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
Eren’s hands wrap around your ankles, pulling a yelp from you as he drags you toward him.
“I won’t put it in,” he promises. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your cunt against the underside of his cock. His hand somehow looks small in comparison as he holds himself at his base. He angles his cock until it’s about as close as it can be without touching you. “Please.”
Your heart pounds against your ribcage, but even more frantically, it pulses between your legs, loud and demanding. It’s as impossible to ignore as the man before you. Hot and horny, with messy hair and pretty pink cheeks and an even prettier cock that leaks at the mere thought of touching you, staring at you like he wishes to devour you whole.
You nod, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to push his cock between your slit. You watch him do it, sitting higher on your elbows. Even with the faintest amount of pressure, your jaw goes slack.
He rocks his hips, gliding his cock through you, up and down, with the ridge of his head nudging your clit. Your skin prickles despite the thin layer of sweat you’ve accumulated.
You raise your hips, dragging your pussy over him, and bring yourself back down to the bed. His cock jolts. You feel it. You repeat the undulating motion again and again, effortlessly, because you can’t recall a time you’ve been wetter. So wet he slips out a time or two. He takes advantage of it once, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit.
Eren gives a low chuckle when your head falls back between your shoulder blades. “What a pretty little mess you are.”
You tilt your hips so he’s back in place, hitting your clit just right, over and over. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake, swaying like they may give out. He steadies you, resting his hand on the divot of your hip.
“Oh, god—Eren.” Your voice pitches on a broken moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”
His hand curves around your side, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. He uses the grip to keep you moving, to guide you through it. He barrels you down the hill toward your release, and you can’t stifle a single cry as they spill from you.
“Yeah, that’s it. Let it all out, baby,” Eren encourages, saccharine as always but airless. Though his own release is imminent, he refuses to allow it to happen before yours.
He flattens his fingers against his cock, pressing and adding delicious pressure. He proves how heavy, how hard, he is for you—how much better he’d feel inside you. The mere thought of it makes you groan. You push back on him instinctively, arching your back as you teeter on the edge of your undoing.
“So fucking hot,” Eren grunts, thrusting as if he were truly fucking you. He meets you each time you bear down on him, his pelvis slapping against you as his hips rise from the bed. “So fucking hot.”
That familiar feeling fizzes in your stomach, swarmy and radiating through you. It sparks in the tips of your fingers, even in your toes, and then your orgasm rips through you. Your entire being tenses, fists knotting themselves into the sheets and eyes screwing shut. The pleasure is white-hot and leaves you with stars behind your eyelids.
Eren urges you to open your eyes. “Keep ‘em on me while you come.”
You try your best; you don’t let your eyes roll back. What’s hidden behind your fluttering lashes is pornographic. Your soaked thighs—his soaked thighs. You don’t even want to think about the blankets below you.
You curse and cry his name. You look ruined, with eyebrows pinched and pulled together, your mouth hanging open like you want to scream out your orgasm. Eren crudely imagines how wrecked you’d look, how much better you’d feel, if you were coming with him inside you.
Your knees snap together, thighs sealing shut around his cock. He continues to fuck between them, against your pulsing, oversensitive pussy. Your body is spent and shaking, and he is right there with you. The sinewy muscles of his chest flex as he builds toward his climax.
“God, fuck,” Eren pants. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come all over this pussy.”
When he does, it’s with his head thrown back and a beautiful groan. His body is flush with yours, his cock spilling across your legs. Come drips down the creases of your thighs, smearing with the last few pumps as he draws out every drop. He can’t believe he could feel so good from something as pathetic as grinding.
Your body lies limp, sprawling across the bed with your legs still draped over him. You wait for some post-horny clarity to smack you across the face, but the only slap you feel is the truth: you deserve better. You aren’t going back.
You stay there, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, then blink, Eren’s above you, taking your cheek in his hand. His fingers curl around the side of your face before he places his mouth on yours. He’s soft, both how he feels and how he kisses you, with lips slotted perfectly against yours, coaxing them open with his tongue.
You finally let him touch you this way; you kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you wish for the moment to stay, just for a little longer.
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