#and marcus. i feel for you dude i really do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avatar-anna · 2 years

Text

Unknown Number

someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!

(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

Part Two

Part Three

Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)

Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?

UN: you gave it to me?

UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?

HS: No. You have the wrong number.

UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?

HS: No.

UN: oh my god

UN: i feel like such an idiot

UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number

UN: probably on purpose too

UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful

UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again

(one hour later)

HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.

(twenty minutes later)

UN: it's fine, i guess

UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.

HS: That is quite a dick move.

HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.

UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep

UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea

UN: maybe i should stop texting you

(ten minutes later)

HS: I'm not a creep.

UN: that's exactly what a creep would say

HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.

UN: you said you didn't open it!

HS: I was trying to be polite!

UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes

HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement

UN: you text like an old man

HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???

UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages

HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40

UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa

HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you

UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers

HS: So you're out of high school.

UN: creep!

HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.

UN: you...might be right

UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can

HS: Well that's stupid.

HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...

UN: i'm blocking your number

HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.

UN: h? just the letter h?

HS: You could be a creep too for all I know

UN: fair enough. i'm june

HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.

UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname

HS: June is a nickname?

HS: And I'm not 60.

UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me

HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?

UN: whatever

(thirty minutes later)

HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.

UN: you too h

(three days later)

June (J): you're a guy right?

HS: I'm sorry?

J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea

J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask

J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it

HS: We're back to me being a creep?

J: it's a risk every time i text you

J: so? are you a dude?

HS: Yes.

J: great! can i ask you something?

HS: Um...I guess...

J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?

HS: I'm not following...

J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?

HS: No. Why?

J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder

J: who was not as cute in real life i might add

HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.

J: that is not advice!

HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.

J: ...

J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here

HS: I'm sure.

J: what you don't have the same problem?

HS: I don't really date.

J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?

HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.

J: so no special someone?

HS: No.

(four hours later)

HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?

(one hour later)

J: sorry i was at work

J: and i don't see why not

HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?

J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice

J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want

J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me

J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for

HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.

J: doesn't everyone?

HS: I guess you're right.

HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?

HS: That's not too personal, is it?

J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing

HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra

J: harsh...but fair

J: fashion is kind of my religion

J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying

HS: That's cool!

J: tell that to my family

HS: they don't support you?

J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!

HS: Do you have a favorite designer?

J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked

J: you?

HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.

J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes

HS: House codes?

J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while

(two days later)

HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?

J: i don't think so

J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true

J: it was just a peck

HS: Naughty.

J: it was harmless. why do you ask?

HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.

J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood

HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.

J: that sucks

J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?

HS: ...

J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored

J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?

HS: Easier said than done.

J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?

J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run

HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not

J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you

HS: Well said, June Bug.

J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling

(one month later)

HS: Why June Bug?

J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since

HS: That's sweet.

J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little

HS: Yikes.

J: you're telling me

(three weeks later)

J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?

HS: Have you?

J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?

HS: Edge of Seventeen?

J: edge of seventeen

J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre

HS: You didn't see him again did you?

J: ...

HS: June!

J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands

HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...

J: REALLY nice hands ;)

HS: You disappoint me sometimes.

J: ;))))

(fifteen minutes later)

J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!

HS: ...No comment...

(one week later)

J: you ever been in love, h?

HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?

J: no ://

J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?

J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be

HS: I'm sorry.

HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.

J: aw h you're making me blush!

HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app

J: annnd good feeling gone

(two weeks later)

HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!

J: no fair!

J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period

HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.

J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close

HS: Who?

J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you

HS: Relax. I'm only joking.

HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))

(ten minutes later)

J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow

J: what exactly do you do again?

HS: I told you. I work in the industry.

J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...

HS: Meat packing?

J: you know what i mean!

HS: I do a lot of PR.

J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?

HS: Can I go back to gloating?

J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows

HS: Deal.

(four days later)

HS: Favorite movie?

J: that's hard...

J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada

HS: Good choice.

J: what about you?

HS: The Notebook.

J: really?

HS: Yes. Why?

J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?

HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?

J: no

J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once

HS: Is that a bad thing?

J: let's just say it won't be happening again

J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that

HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling

J: now THAT is something we can agree on!

(six weeks later)

J: BIG NEWS

J: LIKE HUGE

J: GROUNDBREAKING

HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.

J: i texted you yesterday

HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.

J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person

J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!

HS: You said you had news?

J: right!

(twenty minutes later)

HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?

J: no sorry i got a phone call.

J: i got my first real gig as a stylist

HS: That's great! Congratulations!

J: thanks

HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?

J: my mother happened

HS: Still not on board, then?

J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job

HS: You're still gonna take it though right?

J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...

HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.

J: i guess

HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.

J: you're right.

J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford

HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.

J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter

HS: What happened to Bill?

J: ancient history

HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.

J: yeah

J: his girlfriend thought so too.

HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.

J: agreed. what about you? still single?

HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.

J: the horror!

HS: Ha ha

HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.

J: i get that

J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being

HS: I'll be on the lookout.

(three weeks later)

J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me

HS: oh?

J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks

HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?

J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me

HS: are your clients nice at least?

J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me

HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?

J: not sure. i haven't dated one before

J: i told you that the other day

HS: right. must've slipped my mind

HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?

HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl

J: who is this?

HS: what do you mean? it's me

J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass

HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself

HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.

J: oh my god

HS: What?

J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT

J: was this some kind of prank?

J: whoever you are, you're sick

J: don't text me again

HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.

HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.

HS: June?

HS: June please.

HS: That wasn't me I swear!

HS: I'm sorry.

(three weeks later)

HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.

HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.

HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...

HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.

J is typing...

HS: June?

J: i should've blocked you

HS: Why didn't you?

J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend

HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.

J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?

HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.

HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way

J: i guess that's true

J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.

J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous

HS is typing...

HS: I could send you a voice note.

J: you would do that?

HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.

J: a friend you say?

HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day

J: and what about tomorrow?

HS is typing...

HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

(one day later)

Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.

It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.

And after hearing his deep voice—deep British voice—on the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.

Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.

One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.

Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.

Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.

Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.

Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.

Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.

"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.

"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."

"What? Big date tonight?"

"Something like that."

Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.

"Holy shit."

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occamstfs · 6 months

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Coast Guard Compensation

Here's another military TF, delinquent disrespects the Coast Guard and finds definitely sub-standard civilian processing -Occam

Marcus was being issued a simple ticket for drinking while driving a boat. That would’ve been the end of it if he had just shut his mouth. Unfortunately his brother was not quick enough to prevent him from tearing into the officer. Before he even begins to return to his boat Marcus is shouting at the officer swearing that he shouldn’t even have the authority to issue tickets. That he knows better than some doofus elinstee. He tosses the ticket into the sea as he continues to shout, “this is just bullshit dude! You’re just taking it out on us to feel like a man huh? Couldn’t even do well enough in boot camp to make the Army so you’ll make it all our problem!”

Ensign Harrison’s eyes followed the litter as it blew into the ocean before returning to the still shouting man. Harrison’ smirks as he approaches Marcus who despite being at least a foot shorter continues on his tirade. Jacob has seen his brother get this fired up before but nothing like this. He could only gawk as brother continued to shout vitriol as the officer approached to tower over him, Jacob could not even think to move or intervene.

Harrison lifts Marcus by the collar and simply states, “on top of driving while intoxicated you have also littered into the fine blue sea, and verbally assaulted an officer. Under the authority invested in me by the US Coast Guard I am going to take you back to the station.” Marcus rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retort but is tossed like a sandbag into the USCG boat. The Ensign briefly scowls at Jacob, who despite being sure this is not appropriate, can not bring himself to take any action against the man who is by all intents kidnapping his brother.

Having established his dominance he returns to his boat to accost the problem at hand. He speeds away in his boat hearing nothing but the boat cutting through the wind and crashing through the waves. The toss seems to have knocked Marcus unconscious, to the sick pleasure of the man driving the boat. Though as they near shore, he comes to and begins anew the derision of his captor. He groans out a “you fuckin’ glorified beach cop…” To which Harrison just smirks in retort, grabbing the only barely conscious Marcus into his patrol car and starts driving back to the station.

He stares at Marcus in the rearview mirror and once he sees the glimmer of conscious return he finally offers a reply, “you don’t know what yer talkin’ about kid.” Marcus squints his eyes at the officer driving his car, knowing something weird was occurring. Something so far out of his hands was happening to him and he needed to use everything in his power to have some curve on the ball. The dick in front of him was arresting him against his will and he was not going to go down without a fight. He is going to use the only weapon afforded to him and use his mouth.

“Really, you must’ve done pretty bad to flunk out of the naval academy right? Their best guys are absolute dullards and you didn’t even make it to step one I bet.” Ensign Harrison’s scowl grows deeper as he pulls the car over. Marcus, refusing to let the chance slip by, turns it up even more. If he can get Harrison to open his door he just needs to bolt. “Oooh scary, bet you feel like a big guy huh! You got a five foot flat guy ten years younger than you in your backseat. I bet you’re just fantasizing about what you can do to me, you fashy pig! You fuckin-” Harrison clears his throat interrupting as Marcus sees veins start to bulge out of his neck and his eyes darken in the rear view mirror. He starts the car going once more and says, “think it’s best if you apologize kid. Ain’t nuthin’ good gonna come out of you talkin’ shit.”

Marcus scrambles to think what his next move should be. Obviously, fashy pig he may be, but Harrison was correct in that the only rational thing to do would be apologize. Harrison even wants to, but any time he even starts to open his mouth to do so his entire throat goes dry and his head burns hot. It distracts him. It angers him. He was going to? What was he? No, he certainly wasn’t going to apologize. To the asshole who ruined his fishing trip, absolutely not.

Harrison’s eyes continue to glower as he exits the car to retrieve Marcus, who in turn observes everything he can about the Coast Guard Station before he’s pulled out. Seeing cameras he starts to hatch a plan before he hears the door slam open and the thought of Harrison disrespecting their equipment is suddenly the only thing in his mind. Jesus that oaf, he’s making them look like even more of a joke than they are. Harrison’s face burns red as he reads nothing but a look of derision in response to this blatant attempt at intimidation.

Marcus quickly tries to escalate, taunting the trooper, “we’re on camera now fash! What’re you gonna do huh, hope you’re ready to-“ He was cut off as a hand is quickly thrust on his neck, a move he was all too familiar with, though he would vastly prefer to be on the other side. He struggles out a performative moan as the hand grows tighter moving up towards his jaw, before breaking out into coughing laughter.

True rage appears in Ensign Harrison’s eyes as he pushes Marcus’ head down into the seat, spitting on his face before letting him go. Still leaning over Marcus, he talks through his teeth, “That’s it you fucker. Hope your little jokes were worth it. You’ve had every chance and you’ve run your fuckin’ mouth. Clearly someone needs to set you straight.”

Finally getting out a sentence without being interrupted, he looks to see an expression of hunger on Marcus’ spit-covered face. Not what he expected and certainly not what he wanted, and as he glances further down he sees an even less pleasant sign growing in Marcus’ swim shorts as a boner swiftly becomes impossible to miss. As Marcus regains his breath he chokes out a “that’s all you got?” To which Harrison begins to feel a heat in his own crotch that is met with both self-derision and an eagerness for the kid to be gone.

Starting to feel out of his depth, despite ostensibly being in charge, Harrison leads Marcus in, taking great care to hide the growing cock in his uniform, which Marcus neglects to attempt, letting his own swing in his shorts. Upon getting inside he leads Marcus to an unoccupied office and locks the door behind him, demanding he stay there and keep his hands off everything while Harrison finishes processing him.

This was beyond irresponsible, but he cannot stand being near the delinquent one second longer, and something about Marcus now makes him think that it’s fine if he’s in this office. Marcus rolls his eyes and agrees though as soon as the lock turns his hands are in a desk drawer. Before he snoops though he wonders about how empty the station is, weird that he didn’t see a single other soldier right? Must be why the pig was trying to flex so hard on him and his brother, trying to hide what a pathetic joke this operation is.

He also briefly thinks about making a break for it, before remembering that Harrison has a gun on his belt. He hasn’t pulled it on him yet but surely as soon as he got the chance to shoot at a runner he’d probably blow his load. He rolls his eyes thinking how Harrison must be compensating. He’s sure all soldiers are, anyone so obsessed with guns and power clearly has something going on.

As he continues this line of thought though, he can’t help but feel that, well, but wouldn’t he want a gun too? Just to have that power? Or just in case? As he thinks about the weight of a gun in his hands he finally remembers that he is rooting around in a desk, as his hands find purchase on what can only be a weighty wallet. He smirks as he palms it thinking of the schmuck Navy flunkee whose credit card is gonna buy him and his brother lunch once he’s out of here. Marcus starts to go through it looking for anything particularly juicy to nab. He hunches over the wallet, conspicuously hiding something, though no one is there to see him.

He shoves the cash into his pocket and finds a license, his eyes glaze over as he tries to look at the name and photo of the man. Not that he cares really though, soldiers are all the same. He continues to hunch and as he does so his back begins growing wider, as if he’s willing it to hide his deeds better. His button up starts to get in the way of his movements so he starts to unbutton it as he feels an itch on the face. He realizes, god, he never wiped that pig’s spit off his face.

His shirt now hanging unbuttoned on his wider shoulders, he raises his arm to wipe whatever surely steroid-filled dried spit remains on his face and finds nothing but a face that is decidedly rougher than it should be. Day on the beach must have been pretty rough on his skin. Maybe he did overdo it today? I mean what was he doing drinking on the job anyway. He pauses before correcting himself, fishing, he was just fishing today. He groans and spins in the desk chair, fuck he needs to get back out there. This room is giving him a headache or something.

It’s kinda hot in here too? Bet that fucker turned up the heater to torture me. Marcus shoves the wallet in his back pocket and goes to stand and inspect other parts of the room before immediately falling over. As he lies on the floor his sweaty chest grows even larger, his traps expand to strain the now unbuttoned shirt as sweaty pecs force themselves into existence pressing into the cold tile floor. Then greater than anything else he feels the wallet pressing against his ass. He might not have noticed how much his upper body has grown, but his legs certainly have and if they want to support it, they need to grow.

He moans to himself. His thighs fill his swim trunks enough to make one wonder how he could even get them on. His ass grows enough to make it clear that the only way they’re coming off is to be ripped off. His bulge on the other side endeavors to make headway to this end as his cock forces its way down his pant leg and his balls swell over twice their size trying to keep up the testosterone production this body demands.

He struggles to his feet, making careful movements as to not burst open his pants then and there. Not to be deterred from his M.O. he hobbles over to a bookshelf and continues to investigate. Marcus sees a bunch of dusty tomes that feel vaguely familiar, though he of course would never want nor need to read whatever droll garbage lies inside of them. Finally he remembers just how bizarre his situation is. What the fuck is he doing? He’s literally being processed for an arrest, or whatever these knock-off cops are gonna do, and he’s just gonna steal some actually important guy’s wallet?

Neglecting to inspect how knows the importance of whoever’s office this is, he instead trains his eyes on the bookshelf. Marcus finds himself eye level with the highest shelf which he knows was not possible when he walked in. He would’ve had to jump to grab any of these books and now he can reach them flat footed. He starts to look down and see just what is happening but as he does there’s another hot flash and he leans against the shelf in pain. God! This fuckin’ place, needs to fix the fuckin’ AC or something. He pushes back against the wall not noticing he stands even taller now as a breeze wicks sweat off his ever more exposed midriff and torso and he sees a conspicuously not dusty manual.

Weird, he’s up to date on all his regulations yeah? He pulls it off, knocking dust loose from the surrounding tomes, causing him to sneeze, his neck bursting wide enough to tear shirt open were it not unbuttoned. His vocal chords thicken as he clears his throat and returns to sit down at the desk. He opens the book wondering what’s so special about this manual, causing a picture to fall to the floor.

He laughs as he grabs it and finds it is a compromising picture of Ensign Harrison. He smirks wondering just what he has stumbled into as he finds himself absorbed into the image. His eyes can’t help but trace the strong curves and powerful muscles of his, the Ensign’s body. His cock gets the messages and finally grows enough to tear a hole in the side of his swim trunks and hsi free hand immediately goes to paw it. God, he needs to see Harrison like this in real life. Drool begins to pool in his mouth as he continues to drink in the image. It spills down his chin as he sees the look of begging in Harrison's eyes, when there is suddenly a scuffle at the door.

Mark takes the second he has to hide the photograph and rip his hand off his painfully erect dick, as Harrison bursts into the room. Nonplussed as ever he looks with a sneer at Marcus with no reaction that he looks any different than when he was booked. Under his breath he complains that Mark’s clothes are far too tight for any respectable man before. He can’t hide the blush on his face though as he asks Mark to button up his shirt before getting to the real purpose he came in, “You didn’t give me your ID uh, kid?” His eyes glaze over at the incongruity of calling the man before him kid and he blushes as Mark sneers at him in return. Raising his sharpening jaw in disdain he produces the I.D. of the Coast Guard officer in his pocket without a second thought and offers it to Harrison.

The Ensign goes to grab it, sniffing the air as he does so and making a clear face of discomfort. Marcus doesn’t notice how he smells, not his problem, if lesser men are bothered so be it. But Harrison makes haste to leave the room, on his way out saying “You better not get your stink on the furniture, ki-, uh, Sir.” Angry at himself for calling that delinquent sir he slams the door and locks it once more, leaving Mark alone in the room, his erection pulsing even larger at being called Sir.

That ball buster needs to learn his fuckin’ place, Mark thinks, I’m in charge here after all. Or? Hm. I mean I pay his wage right, tax-payers and all. Something like that. He rubs his scratchy, sharper jaw as he feels his clothes near their limit. He pauses to decide which drawer to raid next. He settles on the top left drawer and as soon as he does he slams it open only to jump back in shock, his body flexing and tensing as he hears something heavy loudly slam into the back of the open drawer. His biceps rip apart his sleeves as reaches into the drawer and feels ice cold carbon steel. His left arm burns as tattoos he doesn’t remember getting begin to stain his whole arm. He pulls out a gun, His Gun, and begins to inspect it.

He feels a regulation mustache push out of his upper lip, the one he’s always had right? He feels the burn of more ink appear on his torso as it begins to grow shredded. He feels the lengthy hair cut he has always been proud of pull into his head, leaving nothing but a high and tight that can only display the void of a personality that the military demands. He feels the weight of the gun in his hands not noticing as his clothes begin to reform around him. Good thing he got those stupid dress clothes off, he’s at work. He needs to be in uniform.

The scraps of his dress shirt cling back to him and turn into the same respectable military green of any branch. He feels a nylon shirt cling to his sweaty pecs as a thicker top slides over his biceps, struggling to keep them contained. His attention is drawn, as it often is, straight to his cock as he feels his torn swim trunks grow into silkies that are only just able to hide his impressive bulge. He is able to stuff it down the leg of his trousers as they form around his impossibly thick thighs, though even a passing observer would be able to see the beer can running down his leg. His pants are already custom made to fit his ass and thighs, it’s not like he can, or even wants to, hide his masculinity any more. He is thankful though that his, may as well be kevlar, boxers keep him from constantly staining his pants with pre.

Still rubbing his cock through his pants, he releases the unloaded magazine of the gun and moans as wrinkles begin to form under his steely eyes. He absolutely fills his pants with pre and nearly finishes the job before there is another knock at the door. He groans as his body grows once more in agitation, his veins bulging out in aggression as a definitely not regulation beard pushed out of his jaw. But he’s in charge here. He’ll get it back to reg as soon as those fuckers start giving him some respect.

Before waiting for an answer Harrison bursts in, preparing to continue his little power trip, though as he sees the man sitting at the desk, gun drawn and more importantly now in uniform, he can do nothing but salute and shout “Captain, uh! Sir!”

Absolutely not ready or willing to set him at ease Mark gets up and begins to walk over. Captain huh, he likes that. The Captain walks up to Harrison and starts to tease his Ensign. His already deeper voice grows gravelly and gruff as he rubs his thumb across the saluting soldier's jaw, “Now Harry, I don’t believe I gave you permission to enter, did I?” Harrison gulps as The Captain continues, “Now are you here now on business, or is there something else I can do for you?” Harrison glances down to the impossible bulge in his captain’s pants, causing Mark to smirk and all-too-familiarly launch his hand to his Ensign’s jaw. He forces Harrison to make eye contact with him. He gulps once more as he hears the fabric stretch in The Captains pants and his face grows red. He shuts his eyes, feeling his own cock instantly surge into an erection. “I- uh, there was a call, sir!”

The Captain’s look of hunger changes slightly and he grins, “a call hm? At ease, Soldier.” Harrison collapses against the door, his eyes still closed, lest he cum on the spot from seeing The Captain in front of him. Mark then leans over him to whisper to him, his breath tickling the neck of the Ensign, “Now, why don’t we go show these fuckin’ delinquents just what business the US Coast Guard means hm?” Harrison’s eyes open as his body convulses, cumming as he slides down the door, moaning in shame. In turn The Captain stands and prepares to go gather some more recruits, the station has been awfully quiet recently. Just him and pathetic little Harrison, they could use some fresh blood, which he will inevitably gather at whatever bonfire or fishing crew they are about to raid...

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #military tf #muscle tf

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qveerthe0ry · 4 months

Text

Naked in Manhattan

Summary: Marcus has never slept with a man, Dieter's willing to remedy that - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 3: Sex/kissing Word Count: 7,730 Pairing: (college aged) Marcus Pike x Dieter Bravo Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: coming out, discussions of sexuality, brief mentions of homophobia, oral sex(m), (lots of) hickeys, frottage, cum eating, armpit stuff Betas: OBVIOUSLY @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar the loves of my life 💖A/N: I highly suggest listening to Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan before/while reading this. Totally got the vibes of this entire fic by listening to it on a walk one day

Dieter’s learned a lot in his five and a half years of college. Not really much about statistics or geology, but about people. He’s been around long enough to know that the sad little guy on his front porch steps, avoiding the party, and chain smoking cigarettes is having a rough go of it.

“Hey buddy,” Dieter says, quietly, as not to startle the slumped figure.

Marcus looks up at him through misty eyes and a cloud of stale Winston smoke.

“Hey.”

He’s not crying, but he’s definitely crying for help.

“You okay?”

Dieter takes a seat on the step below him.

“Yeah, fine. Just needed air.”

Marcus gestures with the cigarette in his hand, then huffs out a laugh at the irony.

“You’ve been getting drunk a lot lately.”

Maybe Dieter shouldn’t pry. It’s not unusual for his rented house to be filled with students coming and going at all hours of the day, between classes on weekdays or all day on the weekends. The cheap beer just shows up, as does the weed, and he doesn’t usually question it.

But he’s closer to Marcus. So he notices more. He usually only sees him here on weekends. During the week he’s commonly found in the library or the student union, books sprawled out in front of him. He’s driven, pre-law, and has a better head on his shoulders than most people he hangs with.

But Marcus has been at his place every night this week, either stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning or sleeping late on his couch or floor. It concerns Dieter in a way that surprises him.

Usually it’s none of his business.

“I haven’t had a sip,” Marcus tells him.

And his voice doesn’t have that sharp, defensive tone Dieter was expecting. It’s more defeated than anything.

“Yeah but what about last night?”

Marcus shrugs.

“And the night before? And every other night this week?”

“Just having fun,” Marcus mumbles through another drag of his cigarette.

Dieterlooks around at his empty porch.

“Are you?”

Then Marcus laughs. It bubbles up out of him in an almost terrifying way, and damn near immediately turns into sobs hidden behind his hands.

“Fuck, dude, are you tripping?”

Marcus shakes his head. Dieter didn’t think so. He’s strictly an alcohol guy, won’t even touch weed. Something about the FBI and polygraph tests. Dieter finds it charming if not a bit manic.

He keeps crying though, so hard he has to flick his cigarette out onto the dimly lit street so he can rub at his eyes.

Dieter’s not sure what to do. Normally he’d offer someone drugs, but that won’t work.

His hand hovers over Marcus’ shaking back for a few moments before he rests a heavy palm between his shoulder blades.

He can feel the way Marcus’ breath shudders out of him, and tells him to start taking slow breaths. When it works, Dieter’s kind of amazed at how great he is at damage control.

“That’s it man, just breathe.”

Marcus nods, finally removes his hands from his face. He’s always been pretty in a very preppy way, with his perfect hair and teeth and his little dimples. He looks even prettier now, as much as Dieter kicks himself for that thought. His face is red and wet and his brown eyes are wider than they’ve ever been before.

A few deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth later, Marcus is sufficiently calm enough to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

Dieter waves him off.

“Don’t be. Looks like it felt good, I might have a cry later too.”

Marcus lets out a wet chuckle and shuts his eyes as one last salty little droplet brushes past his long eyelashes.

“Everything okay at home? You’re not failing a class, are you?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s stupid.”

“Girl problems?”

Marcus laughs again, and Dieter startles a little, afraid he’s going to start back up sobbing at any moment.

He doesn’t though. He’s quiet and avoiding Dieter’s gaze as he frantically gets another cigarette from his pack and lights it up.

Dieter thinks he’s hit the nail on the head until Marcus takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales.

“I’m fucking gay.”

Dieter opens his mouth in shock, or understanding, or maybe to try and say something, but Marcus continues.

“This whole time I’ve been gay. I don’t even— I’ve had so many girlfriends. I think they’re just nice. I’ve never— I fucking hated sleeping with them. I thought it was because it was awkward, and we’re all inexperienced? It sucked, Dieter. And I thought all guys were curious about other guys, you know? They all talk about their dicks with each other, since middle school. I just thought— and then there’s this guy… in my intro to psych class. And he’s so nice and handsome and I just always want to hang out with him. And I didn’t know why. But I want to kiss him. And I never felt that way about any of my girlfriends. And now I realize I’ve just— I’ve just been gay this whole time.”

He’s out of breath when he quits talking, but he sucks down more of his cigarette anyway. Dieter isn’t quite sure what to say to him. Usually when someone comes out to him, it’s in a less… frantic manner, more proud than anything. But this poor freshman has been on a gay crisis bender all week and is more than a little traumatized by all of it, and it’s just different with Marcus.

“That’s um… Sounds like you’ve been going through a rough time with it.”

Marcus sniffles and nods.

“Been through all five or whatever stages of grief already. It’s been a long week.”

“Are you… Upset? That you’re gay?”

Marcus’ head lolls back to thump against the porch railing.

“No… I’m more upset that I didn't figure it out until now.”

“You’re still plenty young, Marcus. You’re what— nineteen?”

“Eighteen. Skipped a grade.”

Jesus. Dieter feels even worse now about thinking he’s pretty when he cries.

“See? You’re a spring chicken, dude. You figured it out plenty quick.”

“When did you know?”

Dieter chews on his lip, considers lying just for Marcus’ sake, but decides against it.

“I pretty much always knew, honestly. But I mean— I was weird anyway, you know? Never really fit in or felt I had to play a certain part or be a certain way. It just made sense. Also, my dad always said I was as queer as a three dollar bill so… that helped.”

Dieter steals the cigarette between Marcus’ fingers to take a drag himself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Nothing to be sorry for, man,” Dieter tells him.

Marcus stares at where Dieter’s lips wrap around his cigarette for a bit too long, and Dieter hands it back, if only to try and stop whatever it is that’s bound to happen next.

But Marcus takes another drag himself, and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip, and Dieter has never been called strong-willed.

“What’s it like?”

“What?”

“To be with a guy? What’s it like?”

Dieter shrugs.

“Depends on the guy.”

Marcus sighs.

“Are you uh— how do you like… it?”

“Are you asking if I’m a top or a bottom?”

Marcus’s face flushes a cute color in the yellow of the porch lights.

“Both,” Dieter shrugs, “but I haven’t really done that with a lot of guys. Kind of a hassle, you know?”

Marcus nods, but then his brow quirks up in question.

“What do you mean? What do you— what do you do, then?”

Dieter chuckles.

“All kinds of things, babe.”

He watches Marcus’ breath catch, the little stutter of his chest.

“Would you show me?”

Dieter rolls his eyes to distract them both from the fact that he really, really wants to.

“C’mon, man. You don’t wanna fool around with me. I’m a loser. Go find a pretty finance boy to shack up with.”

Maybe he’s less weak-willed than he thought.

Marcus’ shoulders slump again, and christ, though, is he supposed to just let him leave like a kicked puppy?

“There’s no intro to psych guy.”

It’s quiet, mumbled around his cigarette, and his eyes won’t leave his feet.

“What?”

“It’s you, okay? You’re my— gay awakening, or whatever. Why do you think I’ve been here all week?”

Dieter’s heart is hammering against his chest at that admission. This was not how he figured his Friday night would go.

“Free beer?”

His joke doesn’t land. Marcus rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like… I’m not like in love with you or anything. I just… always wanna see you. And you’re— well, you know. You’re hot. And you’re really nice to everyone. And I get this… I feel so weird when I’m around you, like, nauseous. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Marcus flicks yet another cigarette to the curb and makes to get up, but before Dieter can think better of it, he grips him on the shoulder to keep him seated.

“That’s… actually really sweet, Marcus.”

He scoffs, hides his face in his hands, and it’s so cute Dieter can’t help but smile.

“Really— Usually people just want to fuck me, or use me for drugs.”

Marcus groans a little, mortified, and his hands run back to mess up his pristinely styled hair.

“Buddy, I’m serious. You’re a little charmer.”

Marcus looks up from his lap at that, scratching that neatly buzzed hair on the back of his neck, and his eyes are a little less embarrassed and a little more twinkly.

“You’re just saying that.”

Dieter shakes his head grinning.

“No, it’s cute. Being genuine is never a bad thing.”

And the thing is, Dieter’s not lying. It’s possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him. But he’s toeing a very very fine line here, with himself. Because Marcus is so pretty, and so smart, and he’s soft and kind and he’s real but he’s young.

And Dieter’s just a Super Super Senior, a total burnout, on his way to holding the world record for The Longest College Career. He’s 23 and he’s still undecided and he probably won’t even get a college degree after all is said and done.

But Marcus is looking at him with those big brown eyes, watching, calculating.

“I just— I feel like you wouldn’t judge me. If I did the wrong thing. You know?”

“I wouldn’t. Anyone who would isn’t worth your time.”

Marcus huffs. Maybe Dieter can still save this.

“Would you… tell me? What you’d do? What I should do?”

And just like that, Dieter is hopping right over that line with both feet.

“Kiss me.”

Marcus’ eyes grow even bigger.

“Like, right now? Here?”

“If you want to. That’s what I’d want you to do, to kiss me right here, like you couldn’t help yourself.”

And Dieter will be damned if he doesn’t do just that, surging forward to grab the sides of his face and press their lips together.

His lips are so soft, and his face is smooth, and he’s eager, a bit too much, but it only adds to that coincidental charm. Dieter’s left to catch up, as Marcus swipes his tongue along the seam of his mouth and groans.

Dieter pulls away. Marcus’ mouth gapes open, and his shoulders heave with his fast breaths.

“You’re so… scruffy.”

Dieter chuckles, wipes Marcus’ spit from his lips and straightens out his mustache.

“Not good?”

“No, god no, it’s really good.”

And then Marcus smashes their lips together again as a pathetic little sound escapes his throat. Dieter opens his mouth this time, lets Marcus slide his tongue around, a little violent, and this is all a bit too much for some front porch steps, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Dieter says softly, pulling away.

Marcus’ brows draw up in confusion.

“Sorry. I’m not a good kisser, am I?”

Dieter sighs, grabs one of Marcus’ hands on his face to link their fingers together.

“It’s not that,” he says.

He turns his face to kiss the center of Marcus’ palm and smiles when his breath hitches.

“You really wanna do this with me?”

Marcus is nodding before Dieter even finishes speaking.

“Only if you really want it, too.”

Dieter squeezes his hand.

“I do, really.”

Marcus smiles the sweetest little smile, and they both stand up, and Dieter doesn’t let his hand go.

There’s music on in the house, and it smells like weed, and a few people are playing Nintendo in the living room. They don’t pay any mind as Dieter pulls Marcus up to the second floor, down the hall, and into his dimly lit bedroom.

At least he’s kept it semi-tidy, he thinks, as Marcus looks around while he shuts and locks the door. His bed isn’t made. He’s sure Marcus makes his bed every morning before class. He hopes he doesn’t mind.

He seems like he’s too nervous to mind, a jittery little thing standing next to his bed. He’s fiddling with the hem of his shirt, staring holes into the stained carpet, when Dieter moves to stand in front of him.

“Are you nervous?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Dieter grabs both of his hands, and Marcus finally meets his gaze.

“It’s okay to be nervous. As long as it’s good nervous.”

He smiles and nods, but the worry in his brow is still there.

“We won’t do anything you don’t wanna do, okay?”

That seems to soothe him more.

“Can we kiss again?”

Dieter chuckles.

“Of course we can.”

Marcus tips over into him, landing at the side of his mouth but quickly correcting course. He licks, but Dieter keeps his mouth shut, goading him to calm down. And he does, slotting his lips around Dieter's bottom one, and everything else slips into place with a soft, satisfied noise from his own chest.

He lets go of Marcus’ sweaty hands to grab his hips instead, lithe and a little bony. He twitches at the touch, sighs, and presses his lips harder into Dieter’s. His hands search around frantically, jostling them both, until he finds the hem of Dieter’s sweatshirt and gets his hands underneath.

“Slow,” Dieter mumbles.

“Hm?”

“Not a race, Marcus. Take your time. Enjoy it.”

Marcus nods, but gapes at him, like he’s not quite sure what to do next.

“You wanna get comfy? Take your shoes off, sit down?”

Marcus nods again, but with a little direction, takes his shoes off and sits on the bed, criss-cross applesauce like the cutest fucking thing Dieter’s ever seen.

“I want this to be— I want you to have a good time, feel good. So tell me if you don’t feel good… or if there’s anything you wanna try. Communication is like, super sexy, right?”

Dieter sheds his shoes and his hoodie as he speaks, thinks he catches Marcus’ eyes staring at the spot between his signature pajama pants and his shirt where it rides up.

“Yeah… like, dirty talk?”

Dieter huffs out a laugh as he sits facing Marcus, crossing his legs, mirroring him to make him as comfortable as possible.

“Could be dirty talk, yeah. But just normal talk, too. It can be hot to talk about things like… how do you like to be touched? Where?”

Marcus clears his throat and scratches the back of his head with a puzzled look on his face.

“My— my dick?”

Dieter wants to laugh, but he can’t blame the guy. It sounds like the only experience he’s had so far is rushed fucks with high school sweethearts.

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good start. So, for me, I like being kissed. Everywhere. I like feeling lips on my jaw and my neck and especially my nipples. You can bite, too.”

Marcus’ eyebrows raise, his plush lips forming a circular shape that Dieter tries and fails not to focus on.

“Oh, yeah, okay. I— I like that too. I like when it’s… sloppy.”

Dieter hums, smiles, and nods.

“Anything else you like?”

He watches Marcus bite his bottom lip and trace shapes on the bedsheets between them.

“I don’t really know.”

“That’s okay. Maybe we can figure it out together, yeah?”

His long eyelashes flutter as he blinks real slow, and he smiles.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

Dieter does chuckle then.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you.”

Christ, Dieter thinks, if his face gets any more red he might burst into flames.

He kisses him, to save him from a fiery death. It’s a little awkward, with both of their legs crossed in front of them, but it’s easier to take their time like this.

Marcus keeps it slow, so Dieter can finally lead. He licks into his mouth to feel his hard palate, and the way he whimpers and shivers in response is so delicious that Dieter can’t help but to do it again and again.

He feels long fingers grip his thighs, soft at first, but squeezing harder when Marcus returns the favor and scrapes his tastebuds along Dieter’s sharp canines.

There’s twin sighs when Marcus pulls away, only a little, eyes still shut.

“You’re really fucking good at this,” he mumbles.

Dieter hums and pecks his lips again, soft and wet.

“Could kiss you all night.”

It’s true, even though there’s also a million other things he wants to do with Marcus. He tries to push those wants down by kissing him again, getting that plump bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it. The noise Marcus makes has his cock filling steadily with blood, and he knows it’s very obvious in his pajama pants, and he hopes Marcus doesn’t freak out.

Like he’s reading Dieter’s mind, Marcus’ hands slide so fucking slowly up his thighs. The movements are jerky, and he hesitates when just the tip of his finger brushes his cock. His inhale is audible, but his curious touch proceeds, just the lightest ghosting across his shaft.

But then he’s pulling away, and Dieter feels on edge, bracing himself for the worst.

“Can I touch it?”

Dieter exhales his relief.

“You can… Are you open to suggestions, though?”

Marcus nods, his slick mouth hanging open.

“You could get on top of me, let me feel how much you like this, too. Drag it out, make me really want it.”

He smirks as Marcus curses, closing his eyes and pressing his palm to the front of his jeans. But he nods, and uncrosses his legs, so Dieter does the same.

And then, he’s got a lapful of Marcus, and he’s staring up into his glassy, beautiful eyes.

“Like this?”

His hips shift, and his pert little ass grinds against Dieter’s cock while his own presses against his belly.

“Just like that. Is this still okay?”

Marcus doesn’t answer him, just devours his lips again as he rocks his hips and supplies them both with heady friction. His little whimpers are muffled, and his teeth are sinking into Dieter’s lip a little too hard, but in a way that makes his cock throb and pulse against the tight ass against it.

Dieter’s hands find those lithe hips again, this time under his shirt. His skin is scalding to the touch and so fucking smooth. He digs his thumbs into his hip bones, drags little circles into them that make his hips jolt and stutter.

Fuck. He likes this a lot. Maybe too much. He pulls himself away to reel it in a bit, maybe to check and make sure this is still alright—

“I’m so fucking hard,” Marcus breathes, “I’ve never felt like this.”

And as he speaks, he’s ripping his t-shirt over his head and flinging it elsewhere.

He’s gorgeous. A little scrawny but smooth, everywhere, just miles of tan skin that’s paler here where it gets no sun. Dieter wants to bite, and kiss, and suckle on every fucking inch of it.

For now, Dieter uses all of his brain power to mumble a distracted ‘me too,’ as his hands moved upward to splay across all that hairless skin.

Marcus’ stomach tenses and relaxes under his hands, and his chest heaves as Dieter cradles his ribs and brushes his thumbs over his nipples.

“Does this feel good?”

He circles them, flicks them a little bit, and wants to curl up and live in that little gasp Marcus makes.

“Yes.”

His head is leaning back between his shoulders, all raised and on-edge. That’s not what Dieter wants. He wants him relaxed, wants him all gooey and loose.

Slowly, gently, Dieter tips him over, a hand on the back of his head until it lands on the pillows. The look in his eyes gets a little squirrely, and his breath picks up, and his nails scrabble at Dieter’s bicep.

“Is this still okay?”

Marcus nods quickly, but he’s slower with the verbal response.

“I think so… just nervous.”

“Still good nervous?”

As if to prove it, he cants his hips up into Dieter and he’s rock hard against his thigh.

“Still good nervous.”

Dieter’s own prick throbs and twitches as he hums. He lowers himself even more over Marcus, finds his racing pulse point and plants a hot, wet kiss there.

“Can I kiss you here?” he whispers.

His chin brushes Dieter’s cheek when he nods, and Marcus relocates his hands to reach up the back of his shirt. His palms are sweaty and hot as Dieter trails a wet line of kisses down to his prominent collar bone.

His skin is so salty, and the heat from his body is making his cheap cologne smell even stronger, and Dieter feels high even though he hasn’t smoked in hours.

“How about here, Marcus?”

He looks up at the younger man as he hovers his mouth above one tiny, pebbled nipple. He watches as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and smiles and impish grin when Marcus nods again.

The groan he receives when he closes his mouth around it has him pressing his hips to the mattress for relief. One of Marcus’ hands finds Dieter’s hair and grips.

“Ah fuck.”

Just like that, the fingers loosen and leave his head and Dieter actually whines at the loss.

“Sorry!”

“No, no, that was a good fuck. Love getting my hair pulled.”

Dieter glances back up at Marcus and watches as his wheels turn.

“Oh… really?”

He chuckles as he places a sloppy kiss on his sternum, delighted at the way the muscles twitch under his lips.

“Mmmhmm.”

Marcus sighs as Dieter finds his other nipple.

“My ex-girlfriend hated it.”

Dieter nips at the hard bud in his mouth and smirks when Marcus’ hips jolt up.

“I like a little pain with my pleasure,” he explains.

“I— can you bite me again?”

Dieter curses and obliges immediately, sinking his teeth into the meat of his pec this time.

“God, I like that.”

He even earns another tug at his hair, and Dieter knows there’s gotta be a damp spot on the front of his pajamas.

“That’s so good, Marcus. Keep telling me what you like.”

Marcus squirms under him as he alternates a string of kisses and licks and bites down his torso. His nails scratch Dieter’s scalp in between tugging on his hair, and this is the most fun Dieter’s had in the bedroom in a long while.

Marcus has a tiny bit of hair below his belly button, and it’s so fucking cute and whispy when Dieter runs his tongue along the path. But before Dieter can get the fly of his jeans unfastened, Marcus holds a hand over his.

“Can I try on you now?”

Dieter’s gaze flickers up to his face, and he looks so sweet, pleading with his big puppy eyes.

“Yeah, yes, of course you can.”

Marcus smiles, and it’s sure, like he’s finally settled into this, and it makes Dieter’s apprehension fall away.

It also makes him that much more horny, hard as ever when he lies down with his head on the pillows. He reaches down to readjust and watches Marcus clock the movement with a heady look.

“This is good for you, too?”

His voice is breathy when he asks, when his hand slips under Dieter’s t-shirt.

“Marcus, I’m loving this. I feel like a sexy experiment. Poke and prod me, babe.”

And through all of this newness and anxiety and apprehension, Marcus laughs. It’s music to Dieter’s ears, watching his eyes light up as he chuckles.

“Take this off then,” he instructs through his laughter.

“Yes sir,” Dieter purrs, “bossing me around also does it for me. You’re a natural already.”

“Y-yeah? I don’t— I’ve never been like that.”

Dieter fumbles to back track at the way Marcus’ confidence falls away.

“It’s okay, that’s an advanced lesson. My bad. Just— Just do what you want with me. Explore. I’m all yours.”

He talks as he sheds his shirt, and when the damned thing finally pulls free, he feels a little scrutinized under Marcus’s wide eyes. And he kinda really likes it.

He settles back against the mattress, one arm above his head while the other reaches out to encourage Marcus to come closer. He does, only a little timid as his gaze rakes over every inch of his body.

He settles between Dieter’s spread legs, one hand dipping the mattress next to him while the other lands hesitantly on his flank. His warm, sweaty palm feels the skin there, draws upward toward his chest, but takes a completely unconventional detour to his armpit.

Dieter’s cock throbs. This is so fucking weird and so fucking hot.

Marcus’ jaw drops slack as his fingers card through all of his armpit hair, and it tickles a little bit, but mostly it just makes Dieter’s arousal grow heavy in his groin, burning.

Before Dieter can really assess what’s going on, or encourage him, or tell him how fucking hard he’s making him, Marcus leans down to capture his lips in his own.

Dieter groans and scrabbles to grip his waist, arching his hips for any relief and finding it against the front of Marcus’ jeans, a hard line wrapped in denim that twitches against his own. He moans, low and long, as he twirls the thick hair between his finger and thumb.

And then his hand is gone, and Dieter’s quite disappointed, but he can’t just say that, can he? He weighs the pros and cons of telling Marcus not to stop as the other man trails his lips down the patchy stubble on his jaw, and bites the sensitive skin on his neck.

Maybe he should tell him. That’s a good lesson, right? How to take feedback, good or bad. But ‘hey keep stroking my armpit hair’ is a bit startling, isn’t it?

He’s so distracted by the inner turmoil that he doesn’t realize the path Marcus’ has taken until hot breath ghosts that bit of fat between his tit and armpit and then he sniffs, and groans, and licks up all the hair while he presses his cock down into Dieter’s own and Jesus Fuck—

He quickly finds purchase in Marcus’ hair and curses, grinds his hips back up into him with what he hopes is encouraging words. But forgive him if his brain is a little bit completely scrambled.

Marcus bites just under his patch of armpit hair, burying his nose in it once more, and these primal sounds he makes are vibrating through Dieter’s chest. All he can do at this point is lie back and take it and succumb to the fact that this is definitely altering his brain chemistry for the rest of his life.

It all stops rather abruptly, though, and two hot hands grab Dieter’s hips hard, pushes them down into the mattress as Marcus arches away from him.

“I might— I might come.”

Dieter blinks his bleary eyes open to look at the panicked man, who’s squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip.

“It’s okay if you do. You can have me all night.”

“Fuck— Shut up, Jesus Christ.”

Dieter huffs, scratches at his wet armpit, and patiently waits for Marcus to settle down. He could probably come that way too, to be honest, with that pretty boy’s tongue lapping at his underarm and their cocks grinding together.

Marcus’ eyelashes flutter open, and Dieter smiles at him softly, careful not to move or touch. He looks like a hair trigger, sweaty and panting already, with a really fucking hot damp patch soaking through the crotch of his jeans.

“Sorry. I think I’m good— wait, sorry, was that weird?”

Dieter allows himself to place one of his hands on Marcus’ own, where it’s still gripping tight to his hip bone.

“It was weird in the hottest way possible.”

Marcus shakes his head at himself and closes his eyes again.

“I’m dead serious. I didn’t know how sensitive I was there. You’re teaching me things. That’s super hot.”

Marcus sighs.

“It’s just… I like the hair. And your deodorant smells nice.”

He pries his eyes open, like he expects Dieter to be disgusted, but his confession only makes his cock jump very prominently in his pajamas.

“Doesn’t taste very good, though.”

And now Dieter is laughing, and tugging Marcus back down, mumbling ‘prove it’ and shoving his tongue into his offensively chemical-flavored mouth.

It’s okay though, he just licks and licks until the taste has dissipated and Marcus is letting go of the death grip on his sides. His mouth follows a much more predictable route, this time, and Dieter watches his every move as those pretty lips wrap around his nipples, one and then the other, until he’s biting and Dieter is whimpering and asking for more.

“You can leave marks. I like ‘em.”

Marcus curses against his sternum and obeys, so fucking obedient, suckling Dieter’s skin and rolling it between his teeth. Looking up at him, his eyes look so determined, all dark and heavy, especially when he pulls away to admire the bruise he’s left.

“More. Want to see you all over me in the morning.”

“Fuck, Dieter. How’d you get so good at— at talking like that?”

Dieter chuckles, then hisses when Marcus sucks the skin on his belly into the sharp edges of his teeth. He’s looking up with an expectant quirk of his brow.

“I just say what’s on my mind,” he answers.

Marcus hums, and Dieter places his hand on his jaw to feel it working, a third mark blooming bright red on his hip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks.

A fourth mark, this one deeper than the rest, right above the waistband of his pants, as Marcus thinks.

“I want your cock in my mouth.”

Said cock jerks wildly, disrupting the tent in his pajamas, and Marcus has the audacity to smirk. Dieter lets his thumb trace that wet, swollen bottom lip and doesn’t miss the little whine that Marcus tries to hide.

“Will you teach me?”

It’s now that Dieter realizes he’s created an absolute monster, with Marcus looking up at him all wide-eyed, batting those long eyelashes. He knows what he’s doing, and it just makes it all so much worse. Or better. Both, really.

He clears his throat to try to gather his bearings before he speaks.

“Yeah, I’ll teach you. Pull it out for me.”

Dieter watches as his breath hitches, and he eyes the tent in Dieter’s pants with an array of emotions washing over his features. There’s hesitation for sure, as he toys with his waistband. But he’s licking his lips, and taking a big deep breath as he tugs them down Dieter’s thighs.

And then he’s staring at his cock, swaying in the breeze, and Dieter thinks this would be much less intense if penises weren’t so offensive and in your face.

“Pretty,” Marcus mumbles, and it makes him giggle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s— I like it.”

“Thank you. That’s very sweet.”

Marcus rolls his eyes but smiles.

“I can touch it?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything you want. Go at your own pace.”

Maybe it’s cliche, but as soon as Marcus’ hand wraps around his cock, Dieter is done for. Fuck, it feels so good, the way his movements are gentle and calculated, the way he’s being so attentive for his first time, exploratory. His free hand cradles Dieter’s sac, his thumb tracing the seam, and it’s alarming how close this is getting him. It’s so intimate, and genuine, and it’s so hot that he gets to be here for Marcus’ first time.

Marcus squeezes him tight and strokes, once, from base to tip. He thumbs at his frenulum, slippery with pre come, then lifts that to his lips. It’s like slow motion when he watches him poke his tongue out to taste, and he closes his eyes and hums.

“Better than the deodorant, for sure.”

And Dieter’s cock bobs as he laughs.

“That’s a relief.”

“I’ve never tasted my own before,” Marcus says.

“No?”

“Mm-mm. Seemed… gay.”

And he laughs at himself, but his face inches closer, and in an instant his tongue is flicking out to lap up more of it, straight from the source.

Dieter gasps at the contact, so sudden. His taste buds are rough against his slit, in a good way, and he has to cradle Marcus’ neck to reel himself in.

“That’s so good,” he whispers, “keep doing that.”

And he does, little kitten licks to the sensitive head of his cock, looking up at him from under those long eyelashes. Dieter groans and closes his eyes because if Marcus keeps looking at him like that, he will come before he can have any fun with him.

Then, in an instant, he’s completely enveloped by warmth and wetness, too fast, and he opens his eyes at the same time Marcus gags and coughs and pulls off of him.

“Jesus, Marcus, take it slow.”

He coughs more, with brow all furrowed and frustrated, and Dieter smooths his hair off of his forehead.

“Are you alright?”

Marcus clears his throat as he nods.

“Yeah, sorry, I can’t— I thought that would be easier.”

Dieter huffs, sits up a bit and leans on his elbow so he can see him better. His eyes are watery and not in a sexy way this time. He pets Marcus’ hair a bit, hoping to soothe him, but the redness doesn’t fade from his cheeks.

“You don’t have to take it all, that’s no fun, choking like that,” he says, “are you sure you’re okay? We can stop.”

“No! No— I don’t wanna stop. I’m just embarrassed.”

God, he’s so fucking sweet.

“Don’t be embarrassed. We’ve all been there. I threw up on the first dick I sucked.”

“Gross, dude.”

“I’m just saying, it could be way worse. Nothing to even be embarrassed about.”

Marcus sighs and hides his face in the crease of Dieter’s hip.

“Seriously, I’m still so hard I could shatter diamonds. You’re so fucking hot, it doesn’t matter if you choke a little.”

He feels Marcus’ teeth on the skin of his hip before he sees his jaw moving. He bites and sucks and it’s another beautiful piece of him he’ll get to take from this experience.

“That’s it. It’s all about the recovery. Fuck, Marcus, your mouth feels so good on me. Everywhere.”

Dieter lifts his hips up to encourage him to bite more, mark him up all over. He follows eagerly, until there’s little love bites scattered across the thin skin over his hip bone and his cock is weeping for attention.

Marcus looks up at him, finally, as he hovers just above his prick.

“Can I try again?”

Dieter hums and cards his fingers through his thick brown hair.

“Play until you win, babe.”

He’s much more careful, this time. He takes the head into his mouth and sucks, lets his tongue lather and swirl around it as his hand keeps his dick in place. He’s gorgeous, with his cheeks hollowed out and his eyes shut in concentration.

“Yeah, just like that, fucking perfect.”

Marcus whimpers around his cock, and drool is starting to leak from the corners of his mouth and drip down Dieter’s shaft.

“Move your hand a bit, jerk me off while you suck on it.”

He follows the direction so well, letting his hand draw up to meet his lips, then back down, over and over, and Dieter can feel his gut growing hot and tight. His tongue is working him relentlessly, and he’s never really had a partner use theirs so much, but the frantic swirling and flicking has his head spinning.

“You’re amazing,” Dieter breathes, “making me feel so good.”

At the encouragement, Marcus braves another inch of his cock. He starts to bob his head up and down, following his lips with his fist, and the breaths through his nose get heavier. Dieter babbles a bit, just encouraging words as Marcus works him dutifully, trying with all his might not to thrust up into his hot, sloppy mouth.

But then Marcus looks up at him with his pretty brown eyes and groans around the cock in his mouth and it’s too much.

“Fuck— fuck, Marcus, let me go.”

Marcus does, as quickly as he can, panting when his mouth is finally free.

“What’s wrong?”

Dieter huffs.

“Nothing, you’re perfect, gorgeous, beautiful. I just don’t wanna come yet.”

“Oh.”

The little cock drunk smile he gets is too cute, and Dieter tugs lightly on his hair to get him to crawl back up for a kiss. He tastes like pre-cum, and his nails bite into the heated skin of Marcus’ back for purchase.

“How are you feeling? Still gay?”

Marcus laughs against his lips.

“The gayest I’ve ever been.”

Dieter collapses back on the pillows to look up at him.

“Really though, are you still into this?”

Marcus nods, presses his hips into Dieter’s thigh to swipe away any last remaining doubt.

“Alright, next and final lesson. Get those tight little jeans off.”

He’s so quick to obey, and Dieter tries not to gawk at how much bigger that wet spot has grown just below his fly. He shakes himself out of it and gets his pajama pants completely off his legs.

Marcus is so fucking hot, jesus, Dieter feels like he’s pushing his luck having him here in his bed. So lean and long, and his cock is uncut and curves a bit to the left, and he’s still so hard.

“Get beside me, face me.”

And Marcus looks right at home like this, laid out in his bed, with his bicep bulging from propping his head up on his hand.

“What’s the lesson?”

Dieter smirks at the eagerness.

“I’m gonna jerk us off together.”

Marcus raises his brow.

“Like, at the same time?”

Dieter hums his affirmative, reaches a tentative hand out to cup Marcus’ pert little asscheek, and chuckles when he twitches.

“Don’t worry, we’ll save that for another time. If you want.”

“Shit, yeah, okay.”

And isn’t that gonna be fun? The thought makes Dieter’s cock throb and jerk and he shuffles to close the distance so their pricks line up together.

“Is this okay? Like this?”

He looks up from their cocks to watch Marcus’ jaw go slack.

“Oh god, ‘m not gonna last at all.”

Even as he says it, he’s wrapping his own hand around both of them and squeezing, groaning at the feeling and bucking his hips so they slide together.

“I don’t want you to last, I want you to feel good.”

Dieter lets his hand join the fun, covering what Marcus can’t, and his cock jumps in their combined hold when Marcus whines.

“I do, I— fuck, I really do.”

“Kiss me?”

He’s cut off by Marcus’ lips, all swollen and hot against his own. Marcus moans as soon as their tongues meet, and he starts shaking like a leaf. His hand squeezes harder around their pricks, works them faster, and Dieter can feel each and every twitch of his dripping cock.

He’s so frantic with it. His breathing whistles fast through his nose, panting into his mouth, and every other exhale is a desperate little noise. It only takes a few dozen strokes for Marcus to fall apart.

“Gonna come— I’m coming, Dieter—”

He gasps as it washes over him. Dieter feels his hot, sticky cum splash over his own hand and his cock and his stomach. Marcus hides his face in the crook of Dieter’s neck and bites as it courses through him. It sends a hot white spark down his spine, and what little filter he’d maintained throughout the night completely short-circuits.

“Shit, that’s it. So fucking good, coming all over me— Fuck, Marcus, you’re hot when you come. You feel so fucking good.”

Marcus whimpers through his aftershocks as Dieter fills his ears with whatever filth he can muster. When it’s too much, and Marcus has to slide his spent cock from their joined hands, he doesn’t let go of Dieter. He helps, with the slick aid of his cum, and Dieter topples over the edge with a growl and Marcus sucks another mark into his overheated skin.

It’s blinding, it’s his favorite orgasm he’s ever had for sure. Marcus gasps when the first streak of his spend shoots all over his smooth stomach.

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, exerted but intrigued as Dieter fucks their fists.

His cum mixes with the stains Marcus already left on his blanket, slowing to a trickle just as Marcus’ grasp loosens. Even when he’s empty, Dieter can still feel the orgasm buzzing through his body as he tries to regain his breath.

Marcus finally looks up from the scene of the crime and Dieter wants to take a picture of the fucked-out look on his face, his messy hair, his spit-slick lips and flushed face. But he can’t, so he kisses him instead, closing his eyes so maybe he can burn that image into his memory for eternity.

It’s lazy, so much slower and softer than the way Marcus kissed when he was all keyed up.

Shit.

Dieter’s in for it. He’s always had an addictive personality, and having Marcus in his bed has been stronger than any fucking drug he’s tried before.

He whimpers when Marcus pulls away, chasing his lips just for a moment before he reels himself back in.

He looks down at the mess he’s going to promptly ignore, thinks about how far away the bathroom closet is with all the towels. But then one slender finger is swiping through the cum puddle between them, and lifting to his face, and Dieter devours.

Marcus chuckles at the desperate noise Dieter makes as he swirls his tongue around to lick up every last drop.

“How do we taste together?”

Goddamn, Marcus is much more suave after an orgasm.

“Like we were made for each other.”

Christ, he needs to get himself together. His brain is just so fucking fuzzy and light.

Marcus doesn’t run for the hills, though. He giggles, and dips that same finger into their mess again. He brings it up to his own lips this time, sucking it inside his mouth and pulling it out clean.

There’s a slight grimace as he rolls it around in his mouth.

“Not as sweet as you were earlier.”

And Dieter laughs, brushes his two cleanest knuckles against the skin of Marcus’ hip.

“It’s an acquired taste.”

Marcus nods, and looks down between them, and some of that lightness in his features fizzles out.

“Hang on— here, use these.”

Dieter hands him his discarded pajama pants, and they use one leg each to tidy up their hands and stomachs and cocks. Then Dieter balls them up to swipe at his sticky blanket as best as he can. And it’s all so quiet, as their breathing has evened out, and fuck, what if Marcus has some crazy post-nut clarity after this… heavy situation?

He’s staring at the bedroom door when Dieter looks up to face him.

“Should I uh… go… now?”

Dieter sighs and finally gets his freshly wiped hand on Marcus’ skin, colder now where all the sweat has cooled.

“Personally, I would like it if you stayed. Cuddling after sex is… well, I like it a lot. Some people don’t… it’s okay if you don’t. Whatever you’re comfortable with. This was probably a lot for y—”

Marcus cuts off his rambling— thank god— by burrowing his face in Dieter’s chest and tangling their naked legs together. They both release two huge twin sighs, and Dieter’s instantly soothed by the weight against him, and the lithe fingers stroking his back.

Dieter can’t help it, he tucks his chin and plants a kiss to the crown of Marcus’ head. He drowns in the scent of sweat and cheap shampoo and feels so grounded for the first time in a very long time.

Marcus hums, and Dieter pulls him in tighter, swipes his palm over the curve of his tiny asscheek.

He clears his throat.

“I don’t have any plans tomorrow…”

Marcus lifts his head, and he looks so sleepy but so satisfied.

“So we can stay up all night? You can— could you show me more things?”

Dieter chuckles and kisses his lips to hide how relieved he feels.

“Was gonna see if you wanted to catch a movie or something. But I think I like your idea better.”

“Oh— a movie sounds good! I mean, it would be chill.”

Dieter huffs.

“Split the difference, we’ll watch a movie here while I eat your cute little ass?”

Dieter actually feels his limp cock twitch against his thigh, and tries to hold back a self-satisfied smirk.

“Yep. Yeah, let’s do that instead.”

Dieter kisses him, this time just because he can.

“Get some sleep first, okay? I’ll be right here.”

The look of comfort on Marcus’ face makes his chest burn and ache. His droopy eyelids close as he smiles, and his head drops to Dieter’s splayed out arm.

He just watches, for a little while. Lets himself count the deep, even breaths Marcus takes and feels them on the skin of his bicep.

His arm is gonna go numb in about two minutes tops, and he’ll cherish every pinprick until he drifts off.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #marcus pike x dieter bravo #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024

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sooniebby · 1 year

Note

A dream i had has been haunting me so here i am.

A jock any sport my dream wasnt specific just a popular jock is the reader and he is just so popular and everyone loves him and of course everyone assumes since his this big jock his the dom in the relationship between him and his boyfriend when in fact his the complete opposite.

The boyfriend can be in the band or a part of the cheer team again it depends on the sport and my dreams never clarify, He hears one of these conversations and has a brilliant idea that he was gonna put the reader in his place and everyone is gonna know that place.

Kinks you can go wild with, But praise and a little the reader getting dumb on whoever you choose the nerd to be cock but the rest you can do what you please 🤭🤭

ఌ 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Word count › 2.5k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › praise, voyeurism, semi-public sex, use of pussy/feminine terms

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

“Isn’t that (Name)’s boyfriend?”

“Mickey?”

“I thought his name was Mikey?”

“Nah man, it’s Mickey!”

Marcus sighed. He hated having to practice for the marching band when the football team was practicing as well. The players didn’t know how to whisper. He was really wondering if he should give them a look that he could hear them.

He wasn’t sure why the football coach allowed them to practice with them here but he was sure it was because the teacher for band was a sexy man. Marcus could tell the coach, Coach Pattinson, loved to stare at his band teacher’s ass.

But he couldn’t lie. Mister Yang had a nice ass.

More importantly though, Marcus could sometimes see his boyfriend playing. But it was mainly rare. (Name) played soccer so obviously he couldn’t play while the football team occupied the field.

Today was that day the soccer team practiced somewhere else.

He was getting a bit agitated at this point. The heavy drum strapped to his chest and the sun beaming down at him. God, he wanted to just walk home. But he did like his band mates. He didn’t want them to hate him for any reason so he’d put it with it.

But that didn’t mean he’d do it without complaints.

“Marc! Pay attention.” One of his band mates whispered, poking him with a drum stick. Marcus quickly put his focus on Mr. Yang as he continued to drone on and on about timing and making sure to be energetic during performances.

Marcus tried to pay more attention, even though he had already heard this speech once before. Expect the two players whispering (?) about him started up once more.

“I wonder what (Name) sees in him.” Thing 1 said.

“What do you mean? Mickey is a cute ass guy. Especially his ass…” Thing 2 muttered.

“Mikey… And yeah I guess. It’s kinda flat to me. Mr. Yang has a much fatter ass than him.”

“True true… I mean look it at… I wonder what it looks like when he jumps…”

Thing 1 whispered. The only time he ever whispered. “Perv.”

“You started it!” Thing 2 shouted, earning a glare from Coach Pattinson. Thing 1 & 2 quickly quieted down.

“But for real, who do you think tops?” Thing 2 muttered.

“(Name)… obviously. The dude is bigger and taller than Mikey. How could Mikey top him?!”

“(Name) is only 5’10 at the most. He’s not that tall. And he’s hardly that muscular. It’s mainly his legs.”

“Says you, Mister 6’4!” Thing 1 punched Thing 2 on the arm, earning a wince. “(Name) has an ass that could rival Mr. Yang, though.”

“Didn’t he play baseball?”

“He plays both sports. Such a cool guy. I’m not sure how he doesn’t go crazy.” Thing 1 looked as if he had a crush on (Name). Marcus didn’t like that, he could feel himself tighten his grip on his drumsticks.

“Maybe he knows how to manage himself… unlike someone…”

“Say that to my face you beanstalk!”

“Alright boys, break time is over!!” Coach Pattinson yelled. “Back to the field!!” He blew his whistle before glancing over to see Mister Yang’s ass once more.

Yeah, he wasn’t hiding it.

Marcus thought hard about what Thing 1 & 2 talked about. Damn, did he not give off top vibes like the thought? Shit—what could he do to show it off?

Well it wasn’t that he really cared what those little shits said but he didn’t like that his looks somehow determined his sexual position.

Oh. Marcus smirked to himself.

He could always make it known that he is the dom in the relationship… and he knew just the way to do it.

“Dude… the fuck are you smiling about?”

Marcus glanced over to his band mate, Olivia. “Nothing important.”

Olivia didn’t look convinced but she turned her attention back to Mr. Yang. Marcus couldn’t wait to test out his plan.

ꕥ

It was the next day and Marcus didn’t have band practice today. But (Name) was at soccer practice. He hardly joined him because he mainly wanted to go straight home after school. Any minute he stayed longer at this cursed school was a damage to his mental health.

(Name) was sitting down on the bench, drinking water when he spotted his boyfriend. He waved, a large grin on his lips. If he was an animal, many would say he would be a golden retriever. So happy to be with people.

“Marc! Something happened?”

“I can’t just see my boyfriend?” Marcus grinned, his blonde locs pulled into a ponytail. He wore a ridiculously large jacket with a red tee with black pants. (Name) always wondered why Marcus always complained about being hot when he chose to wear such clothing during summer.

(Name) simply hummed and pursed his lips, closing his eyes. He titled his head up earning a laugh from Marcus. Marcus would usually just give him a light kiss. He wasn’t one for PDA.

But this time, he grabbed (Name)’s chin and held him in place as he kissed him. (Name)’s eyes widen as Marcus immediately bit his lip, causing him to automatically part them. The innocent kiss (Name) wanted was quickly turned into a full on make out with tongue.

(Name) whimpered into the kiss, wondering if any of his teammates were looking at him. Marcus pulled away from the kiss—a small trail of saliva connecting their lips—as he glanced back to see if anyone saw that. It seemed at least a few did—with the embarrassed looks on a few of the boys face.

The coach didn’t seem to have saw it though by the fact she was paying attention to another player. Good. He just wanted the other players to see.

“What…?” (Name) muttered. He didn’t hate it. No he loved it but he would’ve loved a warning first.

“Trying something new. Like it?” Marcus said, wiping away a stray line of drool on (Name)’s chin.

“I like whatever you do. But I thought you didn’t like public stuff.”

“I still don’t.” Marcus simply said and sat down on the bench.

(Name) didn’t understand Marcus sometimes.

Marcus fanned at himself, starting to complain about the sun cooking him alive.

“I’m lucky I can’t get any darker ‘cause what the fuck, man…” he complained.

“Take your jacket off.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll mess up my style. I had this whole outfit planned and everything. I mean, look at my shoes—it matches the jacket!”

It did.

(Name) simply laughed. “Alright. Enjoy the sun, Mikey.” He said as he got up to return back to practice.

“Ay! It’s because of you those other jocks are calling me Mikey or Mickey! I’m not a mouse!”

“Sorry! I didn’t think anyone else would call you that!”

Marcus simply huffed. He mainly couldn’t wait until he could enact his plan. The kiss was simply to just get it started for later.

Ah he couldn’t wait.

ꕥ

(Name) knew Marcus liked to try new things. Y’know, only live once and all that jazz. But he didn’t know that he’d be into something so… scandalous?

So risky.

“Isn’t this nice?”

(Name) simply huffed, not able to say anything due to the cock in his mouth. They were behind the bleachers—not too far from door that leads to the locker room. When (Name)’s coach called for a thirty minute break, Marcus saw that as his cue to go ahead with his plan.

He had pulled (Name) to the back of the bleachers were no one could see them and forced him to his knees. But the spot they were in was hardly hidden. Someone could just walk up to the locker room door and get a clear view of them.

(Name) was kneeling down on the balls of his feet, forced to keep his balance this way. It wasn’t a good position to try and suck dick at, especially when Marcus was only 5’7 to his 5’10. (Name) wasn’t immediately at face with his cock.

He had to bend a little. Suffice to say, he was uncomfortable sucking dick right now. But he loved Marcus telling him what to do so who was he to stop him.

“Did I tell you that some guys said that you were topping me?” Marcus laughed.

(Name) hummed, pulling away from his cock. “Is that why you’re doing this?”

“Maybe.” Marcus tapped two fingers on (Name)’s lips. (Name) eagerly took them into his mouth—sucking them to lather it up. His cock twitched in his gym shorts as he thought about someone seeing him in this position.

Kneeling down in front of someone physically weaker than him.

“So I thought… maybe I should prove them wrong, y’know? But then it hit me… if they think like that—than everyone else must think like that.”

(Name) wasn’t sure if he believed that. No one could be that weird to care about his sex life.

Marcus hummed as he forced his fingers down deeper (Name)’s throat, enjoying the panicked choke he got from his boyfriend. He dragged them out of (Name)’s mouth. (Name) took a few shuttered breaths as Marcus motioned for him to lay down.

“Pants off.”

(Name) slipped off his pants and boxers as he moved to lay down on the grass. It felt dirty to do so but he didn’t care at the moment. Marcus hummed, deep in thought before he tapped (Name)’s waist.

“Doggy.”

(Name) flushed. He always felt embarrassed during doggy. Marcus always got full view of his ass at this position. It also didn’t help that doggy was the quickest way for Marcus’ cock to reach his prostate.

With a little hesitation, (Name) moved into the doggy position. Just as he was about to try and not think about the fact someone could see him in such position, Marcus slapped his ass.

“Hey, you forgot your move.”

(Name) blushed in full embarrassment as he leaned down more so his ass was in the air and shyly shook his ass. He hated doing it. The first time he ever did it was by accident. He didn’t think Marcus would’ve wanted him to do it everything for doggy.

Marcus had said it reminded him of a cat getting ready to pounce. It was the only time (Name) was ever said to resemble a cat.

“Good boy.” Marcus shoved in his two fingers, gaining a scream from (Name). “Hey, do you want them to hear you?”

(Name) shook his head.

“Your pussy says otherwise. It tightened as soon as I mentioned it.” Marcus laughed, dragging his fingers against (Name)’s wet walls before grazing his prostate.

Marcus loved to call (Name)’s features with feminine terms. Boobs, tits, pussy, cunt. You name it. He didn’t use it all the time. Sometimes he was nice to called them pecs or asshole.

(Name) liked both. But there was something different about his ass being called a pussy. He wasn’t sure what it was.

“I’m surprised they haven’t wondered where you are…. Do you often use these breaks to jerk off? Play with your clit?” He grinned, enjoying the whimper he earned.

(Name) shook his head, gripping at the dirt beneath him. His hole clenched down on Marcus’ fingers. He had never done that but he did usually use the break time to sit in the locker room with the air conditioner.

Marcus pressed against his prostate, teasing it as (Name)’s ass twitched upwards. He loved it whenever (Name) tried to chase the relief. His ass was a sight to see as it bounced at every sudden movement he made.

Maybe Thing 1 was right about his ass… it could rival Mr. Yang’s…

“You think you’re ready?” Marcus asked, continuing his grazes against (Name)’s prostate.

(Name) simply whined, too dumbed out to say anything. He honestly didn’t trust himself to open his mouth without moaning anyway.

Marcus took that as a yes as he slipped out his fingers and grabbed his cock. It was a good size, six inches. But the best part about it was how thick it was. Imagine a soda can.

He slowly pushed inside, moving one hand to grip (Name)’s waist. It took everything in (Name)’s body to not cry out. He bit his lip harshly—digging his fingers into the dirt.

Marcus was antagonistically slow. Dragging his cock in and out of (Name)’s hole. He wouldn’t go fully in—set to just tease his prostate before pulling out. (Name) was going to die if he continued this way.

“You always take me so well. But that’s just cuz you were made for me.” Marcus muttered, pushing down (Name)’s shirt to press soft kisses on his back. His back is sweating, from playing or sex? Marcus hoped it was sex.

(Name) huffed as he began to thrust backwards, hoping that Marcus’ cock will reach in deeper. Marcus simply laughed to himself as he stopped his thrusting—allowing (Name) to continue his lackluster performance.

“Mikey…”

“Yes, baby?”

“C’mon… we don’t have all day… please…”

(Name) was right. They had thirty minutes. It could’ve been thirty minutes already for all they knew. If he didn’t want to play soccer with a raging boner—he needed to cum now.

Marcus frowned. He hoped he could drag this out longer but knew it wasn’t fair to (Name).

“I’ll get you off. We’ll worry about me when your practice is finished,” Marcus said, grasping (Name)’s waist and holding him still as he began to thrust harshly inside of him.

He purposefully aimed for his prostate, enjoying the panicked hiccups (Name) accidentally slipped out. (Name) was struggling to keep his voice down. He could hear his coach saying they had a minute left.

Could he really cum in under a minute?!

Marcus was going to make sure he did though. He didn’t let up with his constant thrusts, reaching down to jerk (Name)’s leaking clock as well.

It doesn’t take too long for (Name) to cum. Before he could scream, Marcus quickly shoved (Name)’s own shirt into his mouth. It muffled it a little but he could still hear someone ask if they heard something.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Marcus pulls out despite his cock twitching for his own release and pulled his boxers and pants on. (Name) stayed on the ground, trying to catch his breathe before slowly moving to put on his pants.

(Name) looked numbed. He certainly looked as if he could fall asleep any minute. Marcus helped him to his feet (with a little struggle but he would never admit that).

“Go back to practice. I’ll be waiting for you,” Marcus said, patting (Name)’s ass. (Name) glared at him before limping away to his teammates.

If anyone asked why he was limping, he’d just say he hurt his leg while playing earlier. Though he was sure a few of his teammates didn’t believe that.

And unlucky for him, it was the few who loved to tell everyone what they knew. At least Marcus plan worked. Everyone was going to know who was truly the top in the relationship.

After practice, when almost everyone had already left, (Name) was changing into his clothes after taking a shower when Marcus walked into the locker room.

A small smirk on his lips.

“It’s time to worry about me.”

A limp walk wasn’t going to be the only thing (Name) went home with. A nice creampie would accompany it~

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

My comeback! Marcus is so fun to write, I hope you guys like him!! If you guys want, I can do a little fic of how he started dating you 🤭 lemme know!

Tag list: @mello-life69 @the-ultimate-librarian @nakedtoasterr @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo

Number 1 fan: @elegantcecile

#bottom male reader #x male reader #oc x reader #original character

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scandinavianfairytale · 7 months

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Safe in your arms

Pairing: Tangerine x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, misogyny, threat of violence (not towards the Reader)

A/N: I decided his real name is Ethan, with no context or back story. I just like the name and it would suit him 😁

Tangerine had your number memorized - he ought to, given how many times he has dialed it. In fact, he memorized it as soon as you wrote it on the piece of napkin when he met you in that rooftop bar in London.

He was working with Lemon, completely focused on their target, until he saw you getting harassed. He stepped in, kissing your cheek, and met the man's eyes. The dude was visibly shaken.

"You didn't say you had a new toy."

"I don't owe you anything, Marcus. Least of all a list of who I'm seeing." You glared at the man.

"Have fun with a used woman." Marcus spat at Tangerine. As he turned around, Tangerine wanted to grab him by the neck and throw him off of the roof, but your hand stopped him.

"Leave him. His ego is wounded, and he's lashing out." You waved your hand and let go of the situation.

"What a child." Tangerine muttered.

"Male fragility more like it."

"Do you usually go for men like that?"

"I don't date boys - him included." You finally met Tangerines' eyes.

"So what happened to him?"

"I told him I'm not interested, but he has yet to grasp that idea."

"How many times did you have to say no?"

"I think now it was the fourth time."

"Why keep being polite?"

"Because being mean might get me in trouble."

"Well, I'd be happy to assist you. If you want him to stop bothering you, just say the word and you will never hear from him again."

Your eyebrows shot up and you considered the man in front of you. He was very handsome. Strong, but at the same time still delicate.

"I don't doubt you'd do that, but I don't need your help. Thank you, though. That was very kind of you to jump in before." You smiled at him and jumped off the bar stool. Only then did you realize how much taller he really was.

"Wait. I know that this is a bit forward of me, but I was hoping you'd give me your phone number?" Tangerine wanted to bite his tongue immediately after saying those words.

He was glad his mouth was quicker than his brain. Five years later, and you were still in his life. The phone rang six times, before he heard your still groggy voice pick up.

"It's nine am, Love. Are you still in bed?" Tangerine grinned.

"Ethan, morning." He could hear you smile. He loved hearing his name roll from your lips. He could picture you right now, lazing around, still in your underwear with his T-shirt, with the work laptop turned on, giving the illusion that you were already working.

"It's already evening here." He almost scolded.

"When are you coming back? I feel like it's been weeks since I saw you."

"Have you been thinking about me?" Tangerine smirked as he whispered into the phone, looking around to see if anyone was listening.

"You know I have." You smirked into the phone on your side of the world. "Although I appreciate that no one is hogging the whole bed every night." You joked.

"I hate to tell you this, Love, but you're the bed hog."

"Agree to disagree." You smiled. "Are you okay?"

"I'm doing good. How are you holding up?" Tangerine looked out of the window at the passing landscape.

"I'm okay. I met some friends yesterday, and we ended up going for cocktails. It was a bad idea, drinking on a work day." You giggled.

"I'm glad you had fun. But take it easy today, and please don't go out jogging if you feel sick."

"Ethan, stop worrying about me, just come home as soon as you can, okay?" Your voice got serious.

"Okay. We are almost done, I'll be there hogging the bed again in no time." Tangerine smiled.

"Okay. I love you." You smacked your lips, sending him a vitual kiss.

"I love you." He smiled and hung up.

Contrary to his fantasy, you have been up for the last 3 hours, worrying about your boyfriend. He should've been back several days ago, but he took an extra job since he was already in Tokyo. But something felt off to you, and you have been worried since then. Going out drinking helped you out with putting the nagging feeling away at least for a bit. But then you woke up from another nightmare, still drunk from a few hours before.

However, hearing him just now made you feel so much better and you were able to focus and stop dreading what may go wrong. You went back to hoping and impatiently waiting for Ethan to be back, safe in your arms.

Thank you for reading ✨️😊

The GIF belongs to the amazing creator 🙏✨️

#aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine x reader #fluffy #safe in your arms #short story #fanfic

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kalechipswithasideofkale · 3 months

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my adrenaline has gone down finally so i feel i can give my thoughts on this season

no more faks! no more! please!

i think the series is taking inspiration from different art movements and genres. season one - surrealism?, season two - modernism?, season three - baroque? im not well versed on this stuff but i definitely noticed they use different forms of art to make the seasons feel different from one another

piggybacking off the earlier bulletin; i think thats also why this season feels like all flash and no substance. whatever movement or era they decided to do with season three is very ou la la oui oui i zam an artist bonjour /nm its very different from the movements they went with in the past seasons. this one feels serious and fancy smancy

i still think they’re going to go through with sydcarmy and this season just solidifies it. syd and carmy are severly mentally ill with issues they need to work out. they dont handle stress and expectations well if at all.

i think some of the things being said by the characters are being taken at face value specifically carmy calling claire peace. i dont think the writers are writing claire to be a source of peace for carmy; hes just so in denial and confused about his emotions he knows he supposed to feel peace from claire but cant figure out why he doesnt

i missed marcus sweeps and tina in this season so much. and syd! i was excited for sweeps to go to wine school only for it to be a one off thing. the tina episode was good but thats the only thing i can think of from the top of my head that she stood out in. marcus’ mom died? but it feels like she didnt die at all? like the weight of his moms death isnt being felt in his character and that made me really sad. i wanted a little more with syd and marcus with their moms :/

im not angry at carmy somehow? i just feel this deep sadness because he is so unlike himself. my initial frustrations with the season made it hard for me to look at his character. now that ive calmed down, he just makes me sad. like thinking about him makes me feel like a wet sausage dude he needs serious help and im scared he’s gonna do something very bad in this next season/part

i was really hoping there would be more parallels between new york carmy and current syd. they might explore it in season 4 and i really hope they do!

where tf was everyone else in the emergency room and why was it the two faks. there is no dissection in the world that will make me okay with those losers being there im sawry

syd being the first person sugar called and claire being the last mhm yup 🙂‍↕️

a good chunk of claire and carmys scenes being muted or cool colors once again!

RICHIE AND HIS DAUGHTER AA!! i wish they had an entire episode dedicated to them theyre so cute!

theres something to be said about loneliness and isolation this season? again i would need to rewatch the season. something something carmy pushing syd away something something nat fearing giving birth because of her mom something something syd having a breakdown and isolating herself from the rest of the fam something something

pete ❤️

chris you have reached ur limit on white male characters enough is enough theres NO MORE ROOM

ngl i actually liked seeing john cena on my screen yall pls

why are we so close to everyones face i zont like zat at all

i thought they were going to bring louis back and got so excited!!! BRING BACK LOUIS

they wrap up the claire storyline by season 4 or part three?? whatever theyre doing idk

LUCA!!!!!!

as much one sided beef i have with jlc she delivered i crode very hard

backseating the characters of color is very lame and bogus! i hated it! what happened to tinas friends she met at school? does ebra not have family? syd and her dad? marcus and his roommate? so many characters they could introduce from sydney marcus tina ebra fuck even angel and manny but they insist on introducing characters that have ties to the berzattos. i hate it! i really do!

syds apartment? where did you go fren….

i wish they were more artsy fartsy with carmys internal struggles give me cringe film student vibes please ill take anything

FUCK CICERO he didnt do anything but PISS ME OFF >:(

why didnt they have syd work out the economics (or whatever tf that computer dude did do). didnt she do something like that in season one? i guess since cicero called him it makes sense

richie and nat are so adorable i love them!!!!

overall pretty mediocre season. it was okay for a show like the bear. i don’t agree with having an entire season dedicated to build up! or atleast in the way they’ve done it in season 3. season 1 was a prologue for the entire show yet it still felt like a complete season. alot of the things that went down in season three either could’ve been compressed into a shorter span of time or they could’ve gotten more episodes (as if its that easy lol but the pacing wouldn’t have suffered as much if the season was longer). um decent season? i dont hate it! i dont love it either. like i said it feels soulless and maybe thats the intention? idk man 😔

i will most definitely be seated for season four TRUST

#the bear spoilers #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #tina marrero #gary sweeps #marcus brooks #luca the bear #richie jerimovich #i am calm #i think #that was a season!#there was some good #there was some not so good #the bear fx #how did i forget to tag the literal show #ebra the bear

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youcouldmakealife · 5 months

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KS Fill: Bryce/Jared; quick learner

For the prompt: I would really like to see someone (coach or media) realize Bryce is not actually an idiot (at least about hockey)

SO: How is it, having Bryce Marcus back in the roster for this final run before the playoffs? Is it a relief to have him back? BF: We have faith in all our guys, but I mean, of course we’re glad to have Bryce back. LR: I wouldn’t use the word relief, though. That’s not the feeling I get. It’s a treat to have him back with us. BF: Yes. LR: And I don’t just mean on the ice. The guy’s a sponge, truly. Everything I teach him, he either picks it right up, or he knows it already. I’ve coached some of the best players in the world, here and internationally, and I’d like to think I’m pretty accustomed to bright hockey minds. But it’s a treat. It’s a treat. SO: High praise. LR: My guys know — I never give a compliment unless I mean it. BF: Is that why you never give me compliments? (Laughter) LR: The only thing I don’t like about that guy is that I won’t get to coach him in the Olympics. SO: You don’t see a defection to Team USA in his future? LR: Nah, pretty sure the guy’s heart is right here in Vancouver. BF: If there’s a place for a heart to be… LR: It’s a pretty good one. BF: Great one.

-After Hours, feat. Vancouver Canucks Coach Landon Rutger and General Manager Brian Foster

Jared’s honestly a little surprised it takes as long as it does for the coaching staff to realise just how bright Bryce is. Or more, to pick up on just how broad that intelligence is, because it doesn’t take long for them to figure out how quickly Bryce picks up strategy, almost no time at all before he’s quarterbacking the power play, stage-directing before face offs. But Jared doesn’t know if it’s Bryce’s reputation preceding him or what, but the way they seriously pay attention to what Stevie has to say, to Gabe, Bryce doesn’t get that.

Thankfully that doesn’t extend to the team: they start listening to Bryce almost straight away, on the ice and off it. Jared thinks Gabe had something to do with that, letting everyone know Bullet has a good eye, that he’s worth listening to, but it probably would have happened even if Gabe hadn’t said a thing. This isn’t Calgary, nobody’s tuning him out, assuming the only things he knows about are scoring goals, picking up women, and taking bad penalties.

Bryce’s linemates are the first ones to notice, unsurprisingly. Usually where the first line goes, so too goes the team, and the Canucks are no exception. It’s only a handful of practices before Bryce is sticking around after the coaches leave, staying on the ice to give dudes pointers, give them a little extra practice on the things they need to work on.

It means Jared has to stick around a little longer, and Gabe too, if they’re carpooling, but Gabe claims not to mind, and whenever Jared gets impatient, he just has to think about how Bryce ran him through almost every single exercise before the combine, rented private ice time when Jared was getting too into his own head.

It’d be selfish, not wanting his teammates to get that too. And, far more importantly, it'd be completely counterproductive. It makes Bryce happy too, and Jared’s always going to be a sucker for that, though, thankfully, Bryce never seems to realise quite how big a sucker he is.

But in the final regular season stretch, Jared swears he can see it click, all at once, and suddenly Bryce is getting pulled aside by Coach, waved over to serious conversations with the team vets, Rutger leaning down to intently listen whenever Bryce turns to tell him something mid-game.

“Coach told me I should consider a career behind the bench after I retire,” Bryce says when they get home after one particularly long post-practice conversation.

He sounds a little stunned, like it’s something he never considered before, which is kind of funny, considering he was technically supposed to be one when he met Jared.

Jared would have laughed his ass off at the idea of Bryce coaching back then — and he did — but now?

Well, maybe he wouldn't be the best head coach, because Jared can see Bryce getting his ass thrown out of the game after losing it on the refs — he’s almost done it a few times as a player. He can see him being loved by his players, the kind of coach they’d run through walls for, but he can’t so much see him handling the disciplinary side of things, or delivering the bad news of roster re-assignments, scratches, which goalie’s in, which is out.

Not that he couldn't do it — Jared’s sure he could — but he’s equally sure that shit would stick with him at the end of the night, get in his head, follow him home. He’s too nice to be a head coach.

Jared’s not saying head coaches have to be assholes, except — maybe he is, a little. All of Jared’s best coaches were dudes he’d never be friends with, and that’s probably part of it. Better to be feared than loved, right? That’s Machiavelli, Jared thinks. Dude had some solid points, reputation aside.

But assistant coach, well — Jared can see that. Bryce running the power play, maybe, or special teams in general — he may not play on the PK, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t run a good kill. Or maybe be the coach that takes the lead on player development, the friendly one checking in how the rookies are doing and if anyone’s dealing with shit off the ice, helping them grow as players.

“Huh,” Jared says.

Bryce gives him a curious look.

“You would, you know,” Jared says.

“You think so?” Bryce says.

“I really do,” Jared says. He doesn’t know why Bryce lights up at that, when he’s just been told the same thing by someone who knows a hell of a lot more than Jared does, but he accepts the grateful kiss that comes his way. He hasn’t earned it or anything, but he’ll take it anyway. He always will.

SO: So I think it’s safe to say you’re both big fans of Bryce Marcus. BF: I know we’ve spent most of this interview singing his praises, but he deserves it. We’re lucky to have him. Delighted to have him back. LR: I think most people respect his hands, and his shot, but I don’t think very many people have realised what a keen mind for strategy he has. I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t realise until he was playing for me. BF: In hindsight, it might have been a better idea to let them stay in the dark on that one. (Laughter) LR: Maybe. But I think anyone paying enough attention will figure it out sooner rather than later. I think he’s going to make a lot of people eat their words. BF: I'm looking forward to that moment. LR: Me too. -After Hours, feat. Vancouver Canucks Coach Landon Rutger and General Manager Brian Foster

#fic snippet #bryce marcus #jared matheson

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abbysimsfun · 10 days

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 45 (Improving the Clinic)

QUESTION: Why is it so difficult to raise the clinic's rating? Has anyone ever gotten it to five stars? How??

Brindleton Pawspital was steadily improving, but every day at work was hard. Heather now had three vet techs who improved their skills every day (even Marcus Flex!), but they all had a long way to go to catch up to Heather.

She still worked long hours, earning more four-star reviews and increasing her clinic's reputation. But four stars wasn't five and left plenty of room for improvement, so she set to work upgrading the décor to add to the ambiance. She added a box of pet toys and an espresso machine in the lobby, new artwork, and better couches. Conrad liked to send her flowers, and the arrangements always brightened up her office.

She placed a community board by the edge of the square and installed a unique statue crafted from bird feathers found by her cats. A vendor at the docks traded for it when she'd collected twelve different bird feathers. He said it was a Spotted Sixam bird, but her mother was an astrobotanist and she'd never heard of one before. Nonetheless, she displayed the local artwork proudly outside her clinic.

At the end of another successful workday, she convened with Kaori Hayashi, her best vet tech, to discuss her newest hire. "Do you think Rico will be able to get his skills up as naturally as you did?"

Kaori shrugged. "He's great with the animals but he's a bit slow yet. But he's enthusiastic, and keeping him away from Marcus for most of the day was pretty smart!"

Marcus was still prone to take too long on his exams, even if he was getting better. "I don't want Rico learning how to do everything the hard way. Thanks for taking him under your wing."

"It's no problem, Doc. Oh, by the way: Petcare keeps sending emails about raising our prices." Kaori smirked as Heather rolled her eyes. As important as it was for her to raise money for the buyout, she was well known for quality service and products at reasonable prices. She didn’t want to change for Petcare or Landgraab Corp.

"They think if they just keep sending price suggestion emails, I'll suddenly stop ignoring them," she scoffed. "We can raise enough to buy them out without making the clients pay more."

"There is one thing we could try. I saw it on Simdit a while ago, but a friend of mine has a connection to this old armour-maker from Tartosa. His suits of armour actually make people so happy they drop more money. He says businesses always notice better ratings once they put them in every room."

"Sometimes I feel like nothing I do can improve our rating, no matter how successful we are." Heather sighed. "Do the statues really work that well?"

"My friend swears they're really special."

"A suit of armour seems so out of place in a vet clinic..."

"He says people like what they like, and they like these statues! Besides, when have you ever really cared about aesthetics?"

She had a point there. "How much do they cost?"

"They're expensive," she said, pulling out that f%$@*& lump of clay. "Probably eight or nine thousand simoleons apiece."

Heather cringed. "The clinic doesn't have near that kind of money right now."

"I don't blame you for not jumping at the chance. It sounds like a crazy idea, but my friend's a good dude. I trust him on this, but maybe you should focus on paying off the Landgraabs first."

Heather was proud of the way she was running the clinic. If she worked hard and saved properly, she'd be rid of Nancy and her company sooner than later.

There was little she wanted more. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #brindleton bay

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marleyybluu · 2 years

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The Nanny pt2

Rio x fem!reader

Wc: 2.8k

Warnings: none, just Rio being cute and sprung. maybe a little jealous

(Scenes from season 4 episode6 are used)

this is how I picture him looking at the reader lol

He had no idea how he ended up here. How quickly his feelings had developed in the short time she'd lived with them. To him, she was no longer just a nanny, they'd become a partnership. He really lightened her workload over the months. On the days that he started work late, he would let her sleep in, he'd get Marcus' lunch together and even make her breakfast— always leaving a little note behind to let her know he had gone to drop off Marcus and he'd see her tonight when he got home. And when he got home he always had a home-cooked meal, he couldn't tell the last time he ordered food.

She even taught him a few of her favourite meals, which coincidentally became his and Marcus' favourite meals too.

Marcus would be on his PS5 long enough for them to be in the kitchen making mistakes, laughing about it. That's where they bonded the most, he felt like that's where she was herself. She often said she found peace in cooking, it'd bring back memories of her childhood and she'd tell him stories of cooking with her mother and her grandmother and he'd attentively listen.

She hated to admit it but moving in made her a lot happier. She was stuck in a dead routine, just go to work and go home— she had no roommate, no pets, no kids, absolutely nothing to come home to and no one to talk to but now she had extra company and voices around her.

"So, now you add a teaspoon of salt," YN instructed from the other side of the island, she watched as Rio's eyebrows knit together in concentration trying to find the teaspoon in the jungle of little measuring spoons she had bought all looped on a keychain. She covered her mouth to muffle her incoming laughter, Rio smirked after catching her in the corner of his eye.

"I'll fuck you up Yn, don't laugh." He playfully warned. She apologized and pointed it out to him. "Thanks."

"Mhm."

She checked her watch for the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes. Today they were dropping Marcus off at his great-grandmother's house, she had recently let Rio know that they were having a family gathering at her home and most of his cousins would be there so it was inevitable that he would sleep over.

Yn was a bit sad, it'd be her first night without reading Marcus a story or giving him a big kiss on his cheek. But her sadness had been replaced with fear once he mentioned that they wanted to meet her. Why would they want to meet her? Was he talking about her? And what was he telling them?

"Alright, I gotta mix it next?"

She nodded. A question wavering over her head, and Rio could tell. "Ask."

Her eyes widened. "Ask what?"

"Whatever question is floating in that pretty head of yours." He thought he was slick slipping that word in, actually, she noticed he'd been doing it a lot. He'd call her baby, pretty girl, her favourite had become pretty mama. His too. He saw the effect it had on her, how giggly and blushy she got.

Yn took a deep breath. "Why does your grandmother want to meet me?"

He swallowed. Well, it was because he wouldn't shut up about her, Marcus had a bit of help in it too but truthfully it was mostly him. His grandmother almost couldn't believe someone had her boy this sweetened, she had to meet this "miracle worker." She called.

"Uh," He wanted to lie, but he wouldn't he would only tell her a quarter of the truth. "I told her I got Marcus a nanny and she wanted to meet who's taking care of him and the house, that's it."

She squinted. "You couldn't send her a picture?" He stopped mixing and looked up at her through hooded eyes as if to say, are you serious?

Yn rolled her eyes and put her hands up. "Sorry."

He resumed letting out an amused chuckle. "Why you nervous?" She groaned. "Dude, it's your family, your grandmother. What if they don't like me?"

"They'll like you. I like you, so they will."

A lighthearted confession that could be taken both ways. Yn blushed but quickly wiped it off. "Fine, I'll go get ready. When you're done cover the bowl and put it in the fridge, I'll make it tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am." She flashed a wink and slid off the barstool she was sitting on. Rio watched as she walked away, tongue swiping between his lips while her hips dipped a little extra in her stride. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

It took a while but everyone was finally dressed and out the door. Nobody said much during the car ride, Marcus was too occupied with his iPad to bother with conversation and Yn was still shaking in her skin, her leg closest to him continued to bounce and hadn't stopped once they left the house. He hesitantly moved his hand from his lap to her knee, he actively felt her leg slow down until it came to a full stop.

Her soft hand rested on top of his. "Sorry." She mumbled. "It's okay, told you... you'll be fine." Maybe she really was just overreacting but she couldn't help but think that this was more than just the family meeting the nanny. Yn had zoned out long enough for the rest of the ride, Rio's door closing is what brought her out of it. She unbuckled her seatbelt and bent down fixing the straps on her heels, she reached for the handle so she could open the door but was met with a hand.

"Come on." Rio smiled. She playfully rolled her eyes in order to hide her grin. Once she was in full view his eyes sparkled with adoration. "I tell you you look good before we left?"

"Yeah."

"Mm, well, you look beautiful."

She swore she could kiss him right there, she wanted to... so desperately. She rested her hand on his chin. "Thank you. You look beautiful too." She giggled. He winked. Marcus stood between them with his backpack on and a confused look on his face, a bit curious as to what was going on recently with them but he'd save it for later.

The three made their way to the backyard, Marcus had zoomed off once he heard children's laughter, his heavy backpack swinging and almost weighing him down caused the two to laugh. Once they were past the brick wall Yn was met with a whole generation of Rio's family— aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents were spread out through their backyard. A frigid air ran through her system when his presence vanished.

He had walked over to his grandma, slightly bending to embrace her in a hug. "Look how handsome you are papito." Yn smiled seeing her pinch his cheeks, he gently brushed her off and for a quick second you could see the little boy in him."Ay, abuela please." He whispered. She let out a hearty laugh gently hitting his arm, she glanced over at Yn. "Well, this must be who my boys are talking about so much."

She shyly waved while slowly approaching her open arms, they shared a hug. "It's so nice to meet you, sweetheart."

"Lovely to meet you too." She sweet-talked. "Come with me I have people I want you to meet."

Before Yn could protest she was being dragged off to another family member, she looked over her shoulder in a silent plea for Rio to be her scapegoat, he knew how she felt about meeting new people, but he just shook his head and mouthed, "you'll be fine."

And to her surprise, she was. His family embraced her almost immediately, spilling the tea on how Rio was when he was growing up and of course he was the same troublemaker back then. During your current conversation with one of his cousins, she felt sneaky slender fingers wrap around her biceps. "What lies are you telling this girl right now?" said Rio. The woman shrugged and sipped her drink. "Just telling her every embarrassing thing that she needs to know."

"Oh is that right?"

Yn leaned closer to him. "Yeah, so now I have some fire for you when you piss me off."

"Should've never brought you here."

His cousin chimed in, "Well, I'm glad you did. She's a keeper." Rio's face became flushed with sudden humiliation, it was almost like she was telling his crush that he had a crush on her without actually saying it. She noticed how red he was becoming and playfully hit his chest. "Eh, I guess I'll keep him too."

Before Rio could argue it was announced that the food was ready and that everyone should come eat. There were two tables, one for the kids and one for the adults, they made sure Marcus was good before heading to the other table. Rio pulled out her chair, she thanked him and sat comfortably and was already greeted by a plate of food. Everything looked and smelt so good. His grandmother plopped a scoop of potato salad on her plate, "Oh, it's a bit too much, thank you."

Rio smiled. "Nah, don't worry she will let you know when you've had enough."

Yn grabbed her fork and began to dig in, she sighed and closed her eyes thinking she might have to take some to go. "Good huh?" Rio laughed. "So fucking good."

"So how do you know my uncle?" A young man, who was a bit too young to be at their table but also a lot older than the other children, questioned. There was a beat of silence, neither knew who was going to answer or what to really say. Rio decided that maybe she'd been answering enough questions tonight and that he'd take this one. "She's uh, our nanny."

Then came another question. "Oh, what does she do?" Rio shrugged nonchalantly. "She helps me out. Ain't that right?" He bounced the response off to her, she swallowed what she was chewing and failed to make eye contact with anyone when she said, "We help each other out, we're partners."

A smirk tugged at his lips when she gently nudged him with her elbow. She had hoped the interrogation had come to its end but a man across from them decided to keep it going. She hadn't talked to him at all tonight, she caught a glimpse of him maybe but she wasn't drawn to him at all. "That's all?" He asks. Yn looked up at him, he had a cocky smile on his face, you could tell he thought he was a big shot and that he was probably used to getting anything he wanted.

There was a cold bitter breeze suddenly in the atmosphere. Rio's jaw flexed as he stared hateful daggers across the way while the other man held amusement like it was entertaining to see Rio in this light. The question remained in the air, no one decided to answer so now it was just awkward.

Rio's grandmother broke the ice. "So, do you have any children?" Yn's eyebrows pinched together. "Oh, no way." The table looked at her as if she had said something wrong, she retracted by saying: "Not that I don't like them, I mean I've been a nanny for fifteen years. I just um, haven't found anyone to make them with." She nervously laughed.

"Think you'll find him?" Tone. That tone. It was so snarky, and whenever she followed that tone it led back to that mischievous smirk, that know-it-all energy. There was nothing but hostility bouncing between this man and Rio, they remained quiet but their glares spoke loud enough for the both of them, a full-out brawl was going down in their heads. "Let the girl eat, Nick, she's barely touched her food." Said their grandmother. Rio grunted as he leaned back in his chair, pointing to the man and saying, "My cousin."

"Brother." Nick corrected.

"Cousin." Rio retracted. An annoyance washed over Nick but he tried his best to hold it together, his eyes shifted back to YN. "Heard a lot about you, YN. My brother makes it sound like you're more than just a nanny."

His grandmother tapped the table. "Nick shut up and eat your food please." The table of adults had soon shrunk back into their childish ways, and the unison of "Oouuuuuu." rang around the table. Nick bit the inside of his cheek and kept his comments to himself and the conversation roughly transferred to something else, Yn listened as she continued to devour her food. Her body suddenly froze when she felt a familiar hand rest on top of the space between her shoulder blades, it applied light pressure onto her muscle, it began to run up and down her back soothing her inside and out but also making her body shiver.

He was touching her. So gentle yet protective, like he had to let Nick know she was spoken for. She shifted in her seat, tugging her lip at the small friction she got from the chair. She needed to cool down. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Go straight down the hall and make a right, and it should be the first door."

YN excused herself and headed inside, she followed the instructions she was given and successfully found the bathroom door, she turned the knob but a cracked door not too far down caught her peripheral vision and curiosity began brewing inside. She looked back to make sure she was alone and headed down to the room. A small lamp was on illuminating the room, it was a small area— maybe a reading room considering there were lots of books on a shelf against the wall.

She furthered her exploration as she walked inside leaving the door cracked in case. She stumbled upon old pictures of who she could only assume was Rio and others of maybe his brother or cousin or whatever he is.

She softly smiled at a picture that reminded her of Marcus.

"What are you doin' in here?"

A gasp left her throat, she spun around to face Rio leaning against the door frame. "Sorry, I just... got a little curious."

"It's cool." He shrugged. Yn turned back around to continue her tour. Rio left his position, his footsteps were hushed due to the carpeting inside, he crept up behind her-- chest mere inches away from her back, the smell of her hair products infiltrated his senses. She could feel his body heat radiating onto her. "You used to be so cute." She mumbled pointing to the photos. "Used to? So, I'm not cute no more?"

Yn turned around in the minimum space that she had between his body and the shelf. He was awfully close. Close enough she could see every individual piece of hair on his moustache and every shade of pink on his lips. Her doe eyes wandered up to his dark ones, the desire and lust oozed out of them. Their bodies pressed together heatedly as their lips softly collided, both hesitant at first, a little kiss and pull away until Yn tugged on his shirt bringing him back where he belonged.

She was just as hungry for this feeling as he was, his lips were soft and warm-- so sweet and delicate with her. Rio almost melted into her. A warm feeling ignited inside of him, something he hadn't felt in a long time, maybe it was love or lust but he'd figure that shit out later right now he just wanted to stay in this moment. His hands ran down her dress, hiking the bottom up to meet the top of her thighs. He cupped her thigh and gently held her leg up dipping her further against the shelf.

"Rio..." She softly moaned between smooches. She wanted him to have her in any and every way that he wanted. A sudden loud crash came from the kitchen which startled the two. They pulled away but still held each other close. "Mmm, I guess we should go back," Yn whined. Rio planted one last quick kiss before fixing her dress, the two straightened themselves out and he turned to exit but she gripped his wrist.

"Can I ask you something?" He nodded giving her his full attention. "Why did you really bring me here?"

He looked down at his shoes, he couldn't keep the cat in the bag forever. "I wanted my people to meet someone who's important to me and Marcus."

"But mostly to you?" She teased. He sucked his teeth. "Shut up." He slipped his wrist out of her grasp and instead intertwined their fingers. They made their way back to the crowd, sitting back in their original spots. She could feel those same eyes staring at her from across the table but she'd ignore it.

But she didn't know how deep things were about to get.

lol i'm sorry this is so long

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

peace and love.

tags: @skyesthebomb @rio-reid-whoreee

#rio x fem!reader #rio x reader #rio #goodgirls #rio fanfic #rio fluff #marleysfanfictions #marleywrites #good girls rio #rio good girls #imagines #Rio imagine

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ladymarycrawley · 2 years

Text

You're mine and mine only - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Request: Hi could you write a Trent Smut where he gets jealous of his teammates and fucks y/n hard to let her know who she belongs to, sth like angry sex

Warning: smut with some foul language, kinda long (I’m more of a fluffy sex girl but I tried my best 💗)

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover

Trent was kind of a jealous boyfriend, not in a toxic way but let's say he didn't like when someone got way too close to you than what he thought was acceptable. Especially when this someone was one of his teammates.

That someone was Mason Mount who was there exchanging some funny jokes with you, therefore making you laugh. It looked like you were really enjoying his company and Trent was fuming, his stare fixed on you in a frown.

"That was good, wasn't it, Trent?" Jordan asked his younger teammate, carrying on with whatever they were talking about.

"Mhh yeah" He lost the focus and therefore the interest in keeping up with that conversation as he was busy glaring at his national teammate.

"What's up mate?" Marcus asked him, seeing as he stopped listening to them and tried to follow where his stare was falling on and having a little laugh when he realised what was happening.

"Ohh someone's getting jealous" He mocked him, Jordan and Jude doing the same soon after.

"Shut up" Trent was getting quite nervous and that was such a funny sight for the other players who were with him.

"Come on dude, that's okay, they're just talking"

"Uhh she just touched his arm!" Jude squealed, earning a glare from Jordan that silently admonished him.

"They're having a nice chat, that's all"

Trent stopped talking and turned to his friends with a fake smile "If you'll excuse me I have to go now"

"Don't be silly, Trent" Jordan tried to talk some sense into him but with no success at all.

The Liverpool player got up and got closer to you, who were standing a few metres away from him.

He was a quite introverted guy so in your relationship the closest thing to pda people could see was him holding your hand at best so when in that moment you felt him hugging you from behind, his hands placed on your hips and his lips kissing your jaw you couldn't help but blurt your eyes out.

"What are you doing?" Your tone was quite sursprised.

"Mason was just showing me pics of his nieces, they're adorable!"

The Chelsea player was embarrassed and clearly in distress, scratching the back of his head as Trent succeded in making him feel like he was thridwheeling.

"I think we should go now" Trent whispered in your ear. He pressed his body closer to yours making you gasp when you felt his hard bulge.

"It was nice talking to you Y/N, see you"

"Bye…Trent, what's wrong with you?? I was just talking!" You protested, aware that your boyfriend was just acting out of jealousy.

"You were all giggly and all over him"

"What? Oh God Trent…grow up"

When you tried to sneak away from him he pulled you by your wrist, forcing you to look at him.

"Not that fast, princess"

"What do you want?"

He got closer to your ear once again, his voice coming out as the sexiest whisper ever that sent goosebumps all over your skin.

"You've been a naughty girl and I'm not happy with that…take that gorgeous bum of yours out of here, someone needs a lesson"

You gasped, knowing it was good for you to shut up and follow his instructions.

When he guided you out of the venue by your hips, Jude shouted "Go easy on her!"

You couldn't see him but he smirked and mouthed in response "I won't"

The ride back home was pure hell as you stood there in your seat in silence, fiddling with your fingers as Trent kept his eyes on the road, a smirk that didn't cease to leave his lips.

When you stopped at the traffic lights, he looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, already savouring his sweetest revenge on you. He moved his hand away from the steering wheel to slowly push it towards your thighs and between them, smiling knowingly as his sudden gesture made you squirm a little and got you kind of wet already.

"This pussy is already waiting for me, good"

You sighed, hoping the light would turn green soon for you to go home and having him all to yourself.

As soon as you arrived home, he slammed you against the wall near the front door, blocking your arms above your head. His grip was so tight his knuckles turned slightly white as his lips moved voraciously over yours: he had been waiting for that moment all night, to please himself and give you a lesson for your demeanour that he deemed to be disrespectful.

His free hand shifted along your thigh to grab it and put it around his hip.

Trent was a really good lover, not because he was your boyfriend but because he objectively was, knowing full well your weak spots and how to make the most of them.

“Can’t wait to fuck you so hard you forget his name” He slurred in your ear, licking your upper lip before trapping it between his lips again and again.

You couldn’t wait for it either, you loved it when he was rough with you…the thought of what you were about to do made you moan against his lips, your legs suddenly weak not able to keep you upright.

He noticed your legs giving away and shifted his right hand, still busy holding your hands up against the wall, down to circle your waist, in order to support you.

You hopped in his arms, arms and legs tangled around his athletic body that was effortlessly holding you up.

Gladly your hands were now free to run through his hair, along his shoulders and you loved feeling him that close to you. The scent of his perfume so strong it made you feel high, high with love and lust for that man.

“Take me to bed” You purred behind his ear.

Were you asking for him to punish you? That was what Trent was hoping for.

He slapped your arse making you hiss loudly.

“Such a good girl for me” Trent smirked, eager to make you his, as he let you back on your feet.

You bit your bottom lip and took his hand in yours, guiding him to your bedroom, you knowing the way to it way too well you could have gone there with your eyes closed.

As you entered the room, he pushed you on the bed, ordering you to lie down and stay still.

“Get naked”

Trent stood there, at the edge of the bed, enjoying you taking the dress you chose for that night’s event off. He stopped your undressing when the only thing left on your body were your knickers.

You were there, nearly naked only for his eyes only to see it and he was about to make you his like never before. That image made his dick twitch inside his boxers in excitement.

His fingers started to trace a light trail from your groin down to your calf taking then one leg to place it on his shoulder, doing that with the left one as well.

Your man always looked breathtaking but when he was between your thighs you swore he turned into a beautiful angel, an angel who was about to give you hell.

“It’s a pity I have to rip these off”

A thing you would usually do at him saying that was whine, getting frustrated everytime he thought it was a good idea to force you to buy a new lingerie set every week. But not that time: you were so caught in the moment you didn’t have the strength to complain, he could have ripped your entire closet as far as you cared.

The lack of moans from your part made him look at you a bit longer, waiting for you to whine to him.

“What?”

God, you were perfect to him, completely abosrbed you were there just waiting for him to treat the way he wanted.

“You look so hot right now” His body hovered over yours, your faces dangerously close “ I love the way you look when you want me to fuck you”

You were already a moaning mess, doing it right into his mouth as he kissed you, your lips engaged in a sensual fight for dominance you gladly let him win.

The Scouser bit on your love handles before taking that tiny piece of clothing that was your underwear off your body.

"This pussy is all yours"

"All mine, is it?" He huskily asked you, lust filling him to the brim and controlling his every gesture, from his voice to his eyes that got darker, blinded by the hunger and jealousy he had been feeling since the moment he saw you giggling with Mason earlier on.

"Yes daddy"

That nickname made his eyes go wider: it was the first time you were calling him that and he did like it.

You were a rather shy person, in bed included, so watching you being that uninhibited made himself feral and he liked that new side of you, a lot.

"What did you just call me?" That literally drove him crazy, taking him to tighten his hand around your jaw to express his dominance over you.

"Mmm…daddy" The strangled moan that his rethorical question elicited from you, was so full of desire it made him shiver.

He licked his lips, moving his hand down your neck, through your breast ending that imaginary line when his fingers came in contact with your pussy. That touch only was enough to make you shake since you were already aroused enough.

“You know this belongs to daddy, mh?”

“Yes…” Your eyes were closed, both because of the unbearable passion and because you knew that if your gaze met his you wouldn’t have survived much longer. He was irresistible to say the least.

“And you’re so wet for daddy” He smirked, pleased with the effect he was having on you.

His fingers spread your entrance open , as if to admire it, knowing he was the only one who could see you like that.

You pushed your hips up in a silent invitation for him to eat you out and it didn’t go unnoticed to the Scouser.

“My slut’s needy, mh?”

“I need you so bad” You moaned, trying to reach for his arm.

“Ha ha, you have to be good and patient” He warned you, the amused note in voice making you kind of nervous. He really wanted to make you pay for what you did, daring to share a joke with one of his teammates, and he wanted you to remember that night for a long time.

“Oh poor baby…you should have thought about the consequences of your actions” He breathed on your lips before licking them.

Trent’s mouth started tracing a passionate trail along your panting body, stopping when he arrived at your thighs’ height.

He breathed kisses on your inner thighs, without actually touching your skin leaving just some licks here and there. That felt like the most painful torture at that moment and the only way you could release the tension was pulling his hair and the sheets you were laying on but you couldn’t sinceyour hands were tied to the headboard. You just had to resist and that was part of the punishment.

Trent closed his eyes and brought his tongue closer to where you needed him the most, starting to play with your clit open mouthed.

Your pants and moans got louder and louder and he was enjoying it so much he sped it up, moving his tongue faster while keeping his eyes open on you because he didn’t dare to miss that show for the world, aching for him rather desperately.

For his own taste you were moving a bit too much so he kept you in place by circling his hands around your thighs; you had to suffer in the end. And you liked it way too much.

The perfect rhythm of his tongue was sending you into overdrive, he could make you feel so good anytime you were sure it was like his secret skill.

He alternated his tongue work with some good clit sucking that made you roll your eyes back in utter pleasure, your pussy clenching around him. When he noticed you were getting wetter, he knew you were ready to take it to the next level so he started rubbing his thumb against your clit in slow, circular motions making you gasp and waiting for his next move to happen.

He then released his grasp around your thighs and let you move your right leg in order to place it over his shoulder, knowing that angle would have lead you to the edge.

Then he glided his middle finger in you, waiting for your reaction and when he saw you gasping he pushed his finger a bit further to slowly move in and out, increasing his speed as his thumb was still applying the perfect pressure over your mound.

He pushed faster and faster, adding a finger in you as his moves got frantic. You were literally screaming his name until you squirted all over him. That was exactly how he wanted to see you: defenceless and completely under his control.

You have been so good you deserved a kiss and that's what he did, moving upwards to meet your lips, as his index and middle fingers were still stroking your labia, making your whole body shudder when his plumpy lips came to leave your mouth to wrap them around your hard nipples. His tongue lapped around the left one, right and left before sucking on it. Then he did the same with the right one.

You were sure you were in heaven because everything around you disappeared and he was out of this world, taking you to places you could have never seen without him.

Trent wrapped his hands around your ankles so as to spread your legs as wide as he could before kneeling in front of you. He untied your hands, squeezing them in a reassuring motion before taking his place back between your legs.

"Be a good girl now" You nodded.

"You can fuck me whenever you want" The only thing you wanted was for him to fuck you with all the passion and lust he had piled up in him.

He slapped his hard cock against your pussy a few times, making you shiver asking for him to put it inside you instead of just being a tease: you had enough of all that teasing you ran your hand down his legs to push his dick inside of you yourself.

"I want all of it, give me all of it"

Trent smirked, squeezing his fingers around your wrist to stop you.

"I have to do it, princess"

His teasing went on: he let his tip only inside of you. He was aware of the pain he was inflicting you but he wasn't sorry in the slightest, you deserved each and every bit of it. Next time you would have thought twice about acting all charming with Mason.

"Don't tease"

"Don't tell me what to do" He groaned, his hand grabbing your face tighter. His thumb grazed your parted lips, you immediately taking it in your mouth to start sucking on it.

He placed his arms at either side of your head, propped on his forearms.

"Such a good girl"

You smirked as he brushed his nose against yours, in what was the only innocent sweet gesture of the night.

The Liverpool player looked down at your bodies for a moment, to savour the instant when his member entered your pussy in such a perfect way, eliciting a loud gasp from you.

"Yes" You moaned satisfied as he was finally filling you with his lenght, arching your back and grabbing the sheets tighter.

"If you behave I'll let you ride me later" He muttered before you could even form an answer as he started pounding into you mercilessly.

His weight was pressing over your body perfectly, loving the feeling of his broad muscles bobbing over you, even more so when you clenched your hands around his arms or ran your fingers over his shoulder blades. That man was a living tease, making you feel the happiest even when he wanted to "punish" you.

Each thrust took you closer to ecstasy, he could do it like no one.

Both your moans came out as muffled sounds due to the messy kisses you were giving each other.

"Oh yes, right there" You tugged at the dreadlocks at the nape of his neck, praising him as he pushed deeper inside of you reaching your G spot.

Your nails were leaving scratches all over his back as he was filling you so well.

"Who's fucking you this good, mhh?"

"You daddy"

Trent's pushes became fierce, wanting every part of your body to feel him, to fill you perfectly.

“T, I’m close” You breathed out as you felt your second orgasm building up inside of your walls.

“Cum baby” He grunted, pushing even further into you. “Cum for me”

You moaned in his ear, pushing your hips up to meet his own movements. Trent was close too, grunting when he felt you clenching around him.

"Yeah cum inside daddy please, cum inside me" You begged him rather desperately as he was taking you over the edge with his deep thrusts.

You came first, your juices coating his member as he gave some more pushes into you to reach his own orgasm too.

As he released his load into you, satisfied moans left both your mouths before collapsing on the mattress.

“Fuck…that was amazing” You were trying to catch your breath as you were still panting due to the heavy sex session you just had.

Trent came down from his own high, and down from your body, to lay next to you, a smirk painted on his lips.

The movement of his chest raising and falling as he was trying to catch his breath was an entrancing sight to you.

You placed your leg over his and leaned over his body, your lips started leaving kisses against his abdomen, his collarbones and his neck, in a sweet yet seductive way.

He groaned, actually pleased with your attention, opening his eyes when he felt your weight lift to get on top of him.

“You were amazing”

“Yeah, I know” He smirked cockily, earning a playful smack on his shoulder from you “I know a trick or two to please my woman and remind her who she belongs to”

That line made you blush as you buried your head in his neck.

“Stop being so cocky”

“You were pretty good too” He giggled, squeezing your buttcheeks as you were busy leaving kisses down his neck.

“I still have to ride you…you promised”

Trent grunted and tried to hide his face in the crook of your neck as you kept covering him in kisses.

“Don’t be naughty, or I’ll have to tie you again”

You giggled as you let your hand graze his cheek in a soft way before moving your lips to kiss his other cheek.

“Next time I’ll fuck you in front of the entire team"

"Does it mean I can have a threesome?"

"Nope!" He grabbed your face tightly in order to force you to look at him, right in his eyes.

"You're mine and mine only, okay?"

"Oh sorry…I tend to forget it" You smirked mischievously, straddling him.

He was yours too in the end so marking him with some love bites would have been good...he had horny girls looking at him or sliding in his dms all the time after all. You attached your lips to his neck again, biting on his skin.

Trent moaned, his hands roaming over your back only stopping to squeeze your butt.

"Let me remind you of it then"

That night was far from being over and you wouldn't want it any other way.

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