#but buck isn’t ready so he stays put

[honestlyeddie-im-bi]

I’m in such an “Eddie fell first and thinks Buck could never want him but Buck will realise he is in love with Eddie, it will hit him like a brick in the face, and he will start biting if they don’t get married like yesterday” mood and I think that’s valid

[simpjaes]

HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)

Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later. 

Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up. 

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 5.4k

PAIRING― jay x afab reader

CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.

NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!! 

nsfw tags under cut:

nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show?  What’s not to love about it? 

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 

It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work. 

To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 

Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers? 

 You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard. 

He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.

Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance. 

Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.

He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status. 

It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage. 

In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday. 

Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.

You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money. 

This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.

You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.

Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see. 

Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it. 

It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. 

Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center. 

You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits. 

Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time. 

Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.

Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves. 

And, well, would you look at that.

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 

“Jake, again?” 

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 

“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 

Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out. 

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. 

This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 

Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 

The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

Jackpot.

“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 

The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 

Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body. 

Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 

“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?” 

Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. 

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 

Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.

“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly,  turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him. 

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to  just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.

Rules, rules, fucking rules.

Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 

The game is on now though, it seems,  as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile. 

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?” 

Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it. 

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him. 

When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him. 

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 

“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks. 

After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked. 

Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it. 

The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.

Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 

Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined. 

“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him. 

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 

“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 

“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick. 

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. 

His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in. 

“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric. 

You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice. 

“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags. 

You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face. 

Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now. 

 You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.

He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.

 His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.

“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him. 

Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker. 

“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.” 

You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back. 

“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing. 

And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls. 

Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak. 

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”

He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you. 

You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway. 

If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked. 

Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it. 

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping. 

And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 

He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this. 

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do. 

Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you. 

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”

“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? 

“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch. 

Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.

“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob. 

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

[evansboyfriend]

buck getting home after a rough shift and thank god tommy isn’t working — except for whatever he's tinkering with in the garage, and he’s keeping an eye on the lasagne in the oven which buck made the day before, left it in the fridge under a post it note with instructions for how to bake it, and tommy rolled his eyes but followed them to the letter anyway, making sure dinner’s ready by the time buck gets home. the smell fills his nostrils as soon as buck crosses the threshold and something in his chest crumbles.

he finds tommy in the kitchen, oven mitts over his hands as he puts the dish back in the oven, says something about it needing a few more minutes, but by the time he straightens up, buck is wrapping himself around him, a hand on tommy’s neck, pulling him close and kissing him with a ferocity and tommy knows, he knows what it means, he knows what his boyfriend needs, and buck is so fucking grateful that he doesn't need to verbalise it.

buck kisses him and drags him to the bedroom, fingers making quick work on the buttons of tommy's shirt before he's pushing them off his shoulders. “don’t tease me,” he says, “not tonight— i want it—”

“i know, baby,” tommy cuts him off, grabs buck’s wrists in his hands and puts them on his chest, pressing his palms hard enough so that buck can feel his heart beating beneath his ribcage. “let me.”

tommy strips out of his clothes before turning his attention to buck, quickly yet gently removing every article of clothing until they’re naked, skin on skin, and he lays on top of buck, lets his weight press him into the mattress, kisses him soft and slow, until buck cups his face between his hands and swallows the lump in his throat and whispers, “please.”

and tommy nods and quickly gets to working him open, swallows the noises that fall from his lips, hears it in the pitch of buck’s moans when he’s ready for him before he settles between his legs and slowly pushes in, and when he bottoms out he leans forward, tucks his arms under buck’s shoulders, and buck wraps his legs around tommy’s hips, tries to push him in even deeper, impossible as it may be.

“need a minute,” he says, voice hoarse.

“me too,” tommy replies with a soft kiss to buck’s chin.

he laughs, a desperate, breathless sound. “fuck, tommy,” he closes his eyes, drops his head on the pillow. “you can move now.”

and tommy fucks him so good, gives it to him exactly how he needs it, slow and deep and hard, keeps his eyes locked with buck’s, dips his head and kisses him and sucks on his tongue and his lips, nudges with his nose at buck’s chin until he tilts his head back to give him access to his throat. he can’t get a hand on himself but the glide of their bodies is enough, he’s getting closer and closer.

“tommy.” his voice is bordering on a sob. “tommy. tommy.

“evan, i’ve got you,” tommy brings a hand up to his face, makes him meet his gaze. “you can let go, baby,”

it hits him all at once, and he’s coming and coming and coming, full-body shudders, tears falling from his eyes. he feels it then, when tommy picks up the rhythm, driving into him even harder before he explodes inside him, filling him up, and he’s kissing him again and again and again, breathless and messy and perfect.

“i love you,” buck whispers the words with his mouth pressed to tommy’s temples, and tommy lifts his head and smiles at him and says it back and buck exhales a breath of relief.

“do you feel better?”

buck nods.

“you wanna go eat now?”

“in a minute. please.” buck reaches up to kiss him softly. “just... stay.”

tommy sighs, and his lips curl into a little smile. “you know i’d stay here forever if you wanted me to.”

“you’re so cheesy,” buck says, and tommy’s grin widens.

“you know it, baby.”

[grimesgirll]

the first thing rick wakes up to is you telling him you want to be double stuffed.

he’s just opening his eyes and you’re straddling him, whispering, “now is the perfect time. we never have this much alone time,” into his ear as you work your mouth up and down his neck.

his dick is already twitching in his boxers at the sight of you, all needy on top of him. your hair is down and disheveled from sleep and your activities just a few hours before.

and who can stay soft when you’re begging to be double stuffed first thing in the morning.

“sweetheart, are you sure you know what you’re talkin’ bout?”

you shake your head yes at him. “yes, i want you and daryl to double stuff my pussy.”

rick wonders if this is a stepping stone to them fucking your ass.

“you sure you want this, baby?” he asks, looking to you. you liked it rough but both of their cocks in your tiny pussy was a lot to figure out.

“mhmm.” you confirm. “i know it’s gonna feel so good - the stretch.”

you must be fucked out from the night before still to want them both inside of you this early.

“well, let’s ask daryl,” rick tells you and you lean over slightly off of rick to tap on daryl’s chest lightly. you even bestow him with a kiss as his eyes flutter open.

“hey, sleeping beauty,” you greet softly, watching as his blue eyes blink open. “wanna double stuff my pussy with rick before everyone wakes up?”

it’s like you can feel his cock shooting through his pants when all of the sudden you’re on your back next to rick and daryl is prying your pajama shorts off. “of course, i wanna double stuff this pussy,” daryl moans as he nearly rips off your panties. “gotta get you ready for two cocks first.”

“yeah i’m kinda worried about you fitting,” you turn to rick on the pillow beside you.

“don’t worry, we’ll make it fit,” rick promises. he takes your chin in his hand and brings your lips together, slipping his tongue into your mouth while daryl dips a finger into your heat. your legs buck at the intrusion and even more when daryl works another finger into you.

“baby, if you’re squirmin’ on my fingers like this right now, i can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel on top of both ‘a us.”

you pout at his words. “don’t make me change my mind.”

“just sayin’.”

rick rolls his eyes, before looking down to your glistening cunt. you follow his gaze before getting an idea. “daryl,” you chirp.

“yeah,” he doesn’t stop his fingers or break eye contact as you open your mouth to speak.

“i wanna give you a blowjob while rick eats me out. is that okay?”

rick huffs. daryl isn’t usually the one you ask for permission.

he doesn’t say no of course and suddenly he and rick are swapping places so the ex-cop can spread your legs open and plant a finger inside of you. your mouth opens almost as if on cue for daryl as rick’s tongue makes contact with your lower lips.

meanwhile, daryl’s cock breaches your lips. you open your mouth wider in an “o” shape, reacting to how rick’s fingers curl inside of you. he picks up the pace as you moan around daryl, slowly working more of his length into your mouth. he hisses at the feeling of his cock being surrounded by your warm, willing mouth. this encourages you to start bobbing your head up and down faster, making sure to punctuate every satisfying twist of rick’s sturdy fingers inside of you with a moan around the archer’s length.

daryl almost cums down your throat at the sight of you looking up at him. doe eyed and aching to be double stuffed, you had one thing on your mind - or two, to be precise.

he’s still surprised that you were the one to bring up them both filling your pussy. being stuffed with one of their cocks in your mouth and one inside of you was exciting enough to get you grinding on their laps. this would rock your world.

rick is already eliciting all kinds of scandalous noises from you as he dives nose deep into your soaked pussy. just the idea of being completely full of rick and daryl set a fire in your core. a fire that rick tries to put out with his tongue, even holding your legs down as you start to buck up into his face, barely keeping in position with daryl nearly down your throat now.

you know you’re a goner when the sheriff reaches forward to clutch at your breast while sucking down on your most sensitive bundle of nerves. you wince like you stubbed your toe but in fact you’re barely holding your (first) orgasm from breaking through.

“rick,” the sound comes out garbled around daryl’s dick.

“gotta’ get ya’ nice and ready, sweetheart.” with that, his tongue drags torturously across your clit.

you’re almost pulling off of daryl with how rick is lapping up your pussy. you loved both of their mouths on you but there’s something about rick and how smug he is between your legs that has you humming again, the sound vibrating around your boyfriend’s dick and sending those familiar pleasure signals to the brain. you don’t complain as he tugs your head further into him; a quick gag stops you in your tracks for a moment before you relax your throat again and swallow.

feeling daryl grow painfully hard in your mouth, you let his glossy cock fall out of your mouth and take a moment just to enjoy the man between your legs. he understands and is happy to give you a moment to breathe before they stretch you to the limit. he tucks a strand of hair from your blushed out face. pale lips find your breasts again and a tongue swirls around your areola, helping to scoop your hardened bud into a warm mouth.

with both of your boys on you, mouths repaying you for every kiss, every time they stuck a tongue or a cock your throat, you can't help but come undone on rick's lips. your leader is more than ready to lick you clean, flattening his tongue against you.

rick's chocolate curls are in your hands when he starts on your poor, pulsing pussy again. without a break to collect your thoughts between orgasms - not that you had many aside from coming undone with both of them inside you - you whine into daryl's shoulder. "its so much." you pant into the man beside you, "so sensitive, daryl."

"already?" rick questions, lips covered from when you came on his face.

you nod, and mewl into daryl when he bites down on a tit.

"how're you gonna handle two, honey?" rick is eager to know your plan.

"how do you want me to handle it?" you challenge through labored breaths as they both work you towards an overload again.

rick chuckles. he speeds up enough for you to start bucking into him again, gripping the back of your head. daryl helps him out when his teeth travel up your neck to bite at your pulse. you yelp and drops you arms, giving rick the opportunity to pin them down, handsfree and filling every corner of his mouth with you.

you groan and gasp in his arms, nowhere to run from the inevitable waves that wash over you as your orgasm hits you like tidal force. "rick!" you're squealing so loud that daryl leans over to shut you up with an open mouthed kiss. you take it; kissing back with a passion while you rock your hips into rick's mouth.

the older man comes up for air after he's made sure your pussy's thoroughly saturated, and already needy again; this time for both of them.

blissfully unaware, you're barely comprehending the looks rick and daryl are giving each other. articulate plans made from a shared gaze at you, a grunt, and some words from rick have the man sitting up next to you steal a kiss from you too and ask, “think you’re ready, honey?”

you grin at him. rick's thumbing your lip while he studies your face until you nod your head an enthusiastic yes still trying to catch your breath. he watches as your chest heaves, leaving kisses and bruising hot marks on your torso while the bed squeaks with daryl's absence.

rick lays back on the bed, patting your lap for you to straddle him. he pulls you down onto him by your hips, easy work after he and daryl put in the time to prep you for them. you're always dripping but this morning, rick thinks this is the wettest you've ever been and they haven't even given you what you asked for yet.

daryl palms his hard on at the edge of the bed. "think y'all are gonna wanna be as close together as possible for this," he advises.

"bend down more, sweetheart," rick instructs and you do so, folding into him until your chests were plush together. "good girl," he punctuates with a kiss on your neck.

behind you, you feel the bed dip slightly. you tense but relax when rick's mouth finds your shoulder, distracting you with pecks as daryl bullies a finger into your already crammed hole. rick pauses his ministrations to clench his jaw. you wiggle slightly, earning a noise or two from rick.

"you like this?" daryl's voice breaks you out of the tension started to build in your core again.

you nod your head, almost too enthusiastically. "want more!" you request with a grind of your hips.

daryl chuckles. "it's coming," he adds another finger.

"fuck, daryl," rick huffs, face glistening with sweat and a rose color started to creep into his cheeks.

"daryl, wanna feel you," you agree with rick and rotate your hips again until both of them are sighing.

rick's muscles are tensing under you and he's bucking into you when you feel daryl's lips on your neck for the first time in a few minutes. "so, tight." he mumbles in your ear.

he's so close that you arch into his touch until he's ushering you back down with a palm against your back. "don't wanna us all to slip out, baby," he tells you and that's when you realize that he's replaced his fingers with his cock.

“i think you can move more now.” you tell daryl as your breath picks up.

he takes the opportunity to heed your words, beginning a slow, pounding pace. "you want me to go faster already?"

"i wanna come on both of your cocks," you clarify, core starting to turn to molten lava as you wanted to be even more full of your two favorite men.

"little slut," rick exhales at your words.

"don't you like being in me at my tightest?" you whisper as you lower down to his ear.

"this how you pictured it?" rick grins at you lazily when you nod. "wanna get fucked like this all the time?"

"mhmmm!"

"such a good girl," he muses.

"the best," daryl croaks, snapping his hips to push you closer to the edge.

your head is buried in rick's shoulder when you feel the heat from your core start to ravage your entire lower body. "so, full," you utter as the reality that you're being stretched to your limit hits you. you had not one, but two dicks inside of you, one absolutely ruining you with his ravenous rhythm.

daryl squeezes at your ass, massaging the flesh further once he hears you whining his name. it feels like out of nowhere that a hand comes down and smacks your ass, sending a signal straight to your pussy.

you nearly purr and babble into rick's shoulder. "feel you tensin', darlin'," rick notes. you murmur in agreement, barely computing now aside from how overwhelmed you were by the liquid fire consuming your loins.

the two of them can't make out a word you're saying and you're pressed completely into rick's clavicle when you squeak and gush. your swear you black out for a split second as the delicious pressure overtakes you - the feeling of convulsing around two cocks has you almost screaming, biting rick's shoulder, ass angling towards daryl.

for once your legs aren't numb but definitely not usable at that moment and you feel like the embodiment of a puddle. they haven't even spilled inside of you yet and you're shuddering between them through the aftershocks of your climax.

it takes you a moment to realize that they've both stopped; rick isn't kissing or biting up and down your shoulder, and daryl is barely thrusting into you.

as the heat builds up again you get annoyed. "guys!" you whimper. "stop staring and do it again!"

[multiversefanfics]

Girl Of My Dreams (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Warning: maybe some cussing? angst, then fluff again Summary: Summary: You work at a small diner down the street from the compound which Bucky visits often, so often that you remembered his order, but things got a little shaken up when Sharon puts her unwanted opinions in it.

You haven’t talked to Bucky in months, every time he comes into the diner you serve him and that’s it. He tries to talk to you, but you tell him you’re busy even if he’s the only one in the diner. It’s not his fault that Sharon said what she said, he can’t control what comes out of other peoples’ mouths, but the whole “75 girlfriends” comment really got to you, he was a very attractive man, so does he actually go out and pick up girls all the time? Is he a player? A lot is going on and you have enough to worry about. Bucky on the other hand, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He’s never felt like this about anyone before, he doesn’t want to lose you, but he knows giving you space may be the right thing to do he doesn’t listen to himself, he keeps trying although you two didn’t know each other for that long Bucky knew that you were the one for him. When he first showed you his arm you were intrigued, you asked many questions about it, and he had no problem answering them.

Bucky has never experienced that type of reaction when he told people about his arm, you didn’t make him feel like a robot or that he didn’t belong you made him happy and Steve and Sam saw that, but of course, Sharon had to go and fuck that up. Bucky stays in his room and only leaves to get food and go to the gym and every time Sharon comes around, he leaves even if he’s in the middle of a conversation and everyone understands they even warn him when she’s about to arrive, so he’s not caught off guard, which Bucky rarely is. There was a soft knock at Bucky’s door “Hey, Buck we were gonna go get some food do you want to come?” No answer, Sam and Steve shared a look and continued on their way, Bucky knew where they were going and after the last time, he was at the diner it was probably best he didn’t go with them.

A short time has passed, and Steve and Sam are at the diner and of course, they are in your section, you walk over and exchange greetings, you’re at work you have to pretend you’re happy. “Y/N please talk to Bucky; he doesn’t leave his room and he feels bad about what Sharon said.” You sighed slightly and rolled your eyes a bit “Why doesn’t he contact his 74 other girlfriends” Sam chuckled and looked you dead in your face “There are no 74 other girlfriends, Bucky isn’t the type to do that, hell I’m surprised at how good he was with you. Bucky is a loner, he’s over 100 years old with no practice when it comes to women, trust us.” Sam’s eyes went from super serious to pleading “Why should I trust you guys, you’re his best friends you could be covering for him.” You crossed your arms over your chest and stared "You don't have to but think about it. Would we really be okay with that type of behavior?" You shrugged your shoulders "I don't know what men think, but I'll think about it. I have to get back to work can you guys stay a bit and give me a ride?" They both nodded and you went to continue your shift, you had plans to talk to Bucky about what was said you just didn't know what you were going to say, and you didn't know what he was going to say.

Finally, your shift was over, and you met up with the guys. "Okay, I'm ready to talk to him." The three of you walked over to Sam's car, Steve opened the front passenger door for you and shut it after you were comfortably in the car, he got in the back and Sam drove to the compound. A short drive later you're outside the compound you take a deep breath and follow them inside, Steve showed you to Bucky's door, and you take another deep breath and knock on the door. "Go away, Steve!" You could hear his voice cracked from the other side of the door which made your heart break in half "It's not, Steve." You heard rapid movement and the door opened to reveal a very tired and sad Bucky. Your heart is now shattered. You did this to him, you hurt him. Well, Sharon did but you felt somewhat to blame. "Hi, Bucky." He blinked a few times and just stared "Y/N..." You rubbed your arm "Can we talk?" He nodded and moved to the side so you can walk in.

His room was dark and a mess. You didn't know Bucky that well, but you knew he wasn't a messy person at all. You sat on the edge of his bed and watched him walk over and sit next to you "Listen Bucky, I am very sorry for ignoring you, that comment really messed me up I like you a lot and I know I shouldn't have let her get in my head but that was the first time we hung out and to hear that I didn't know who to believe, I've been hurt before." You fiddled with your fingers while you tried to figure out what to say next, he saw your hands and gently took them into his. "I have never felt like this in my life, you bring out the best in me even if we only hung out once, the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one for me, and you confirmed it when I showed you my arm most people look at me and treat me differently, you don't and I appreciate that so much I cannot lose you."

You looked over at Bucky and smiled softly "You're not going to lose me, I'm here." He brought your hands up and kissed both of them "By the way I don't have 74 other girlfriends, I'm really hoping to have 1 that is if you want to." You smiled again and nodded "Of course I would love to." He pulled you into a hug sighing with relief "You already make me so happy" You pulled back softly pecking his nose "Now, why don't we clean up this room and go downstairs and I make us some food" He smiled and nodded his head. You walked over to the windows opening the curtains to finally let some light in the room. After cleaning Bucky's room for about an hour, you both go downstairs and into the kitchen. “Alright, what do you want to eat?” Bucky sat at the island and watched you look around the kitchen “What can you make?” You leaned against the counter and started naming things you could make “Ooh chicken alfredo sounds good” You smiled and started getting all the ingredients out, you looked back at Bucky who was just admiring you “Wanna help?” He nodded excitedly and stood up to come help “Okay, so what do you need me to do?” You looked around for the easiest task you reached over and handed him a pot "Fill this up with some water, maybe about halfway maybe a little more." Bucky can't mess up filling a pot with water, can he? "Is this good enough?" You nodded and instructed him to put it on the stove.

While you were cutting up the chicken you figured the water would be boiling but nope, he never turned the stove on, you giggled to yourself and turned the stove on when he wasn't paying attention. The two of you laughed and cooked. Finally, you were done and ready to eat, you both sat down, and Bucky looked down at his plate in amazement "This looks amazing" The two of you sat there in silence, enjoying the wonderful meal that you two prepared together, when in walks Sharon. You look up in disgust as she walks into the kitchen "Hey, one of Bucky's girlfriends is here, do the others know not to come by?" You could feel your blood boiling again and just as you were about to speak, Bucky spoke up instead "What the fuck is your problem?" Sharon looked at Bucky shocked by what he said but she stood firm "I just want her to know how much of a player you are." You rolled your eyes and continued eating, it seemed like Bucky had this handled, so you sat back and watched. "Y/N is my one and only girlfriend, and it's about time you respect her and me and everyone else in this compound." At this point, Bucky is now standing and staring straight into Sharon's eyes.

Sharon takes a step closer to the island. "Do you really want to go there with me Bucky?" Bucky walked around the island and stood firmly in front of Sharon, now it was time for you to step in you walked up behind Bucky and gently grabbed his right arm "It's not worth it, baby." You felt Bucky's arm relax and he slowly turned his head to look at you "You're right, Doll. Let's go continue our dinner in the living room." Bucky picks up your plates and walks into the living room, he sets them down on the coffee table and stands there with his hands on his hips. "Actually, you know what I have one more thing to say then I'm done." He turned around to face Sharon and took a deep breath "Ever since Steve stopped fucking you, you've been the biggest bitch imaginable, but one thing you are absolutely not going to do is, disrespect Y/N. You don't even know her and honestly, I would love to keep it that way so pack your shit and get out." Both you and Sharon stood there shocked. You never expected Bucky to say anything like that, that was the moment you realized you found the one for you.

Main Masterlist - Bucky Barnes Masterlist - Part 1

A/N: I really hope you guys like it; I tried my best to make it good for you guys. feedback is definitely appreciated along with constructed criticism, please the more the better. Tell me how I can make it better for you guys to read. :)

Tags: @megamindsecretlair @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scorpiosaintt @buckysdoll85 @grdh90 @thedonswife13 @scott-loki-barnes @b3llair3

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: get ready for the hate.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller. 

“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you. 

You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed. 

“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.” 

“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.” 

“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.  

“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.” 

“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says. 

“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?” 

“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.” 

You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester. 

“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers. 

“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.” 

“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...” 

“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.” 

“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...” 

“A con? Oh, wow--” 

“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?” 

“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.” 

“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...” 

You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no. 

“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly. 

The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones. 

“Jacob?” You murmur. 

“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.” 

“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.” 

“Yeah, totally,” you agree.  

You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track. 

“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.” 

“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.” 

“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.” 

“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.” 

“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...” 

“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.” 

“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.” 

You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation. 

🎮

You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive. 

You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell. 

It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was. 

“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.  

She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed. 

You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home. 

You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.  

You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message. 

‘Hey, you home?’ 

‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’ 

‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’ 

‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’ 

You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊' 

Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears. 

‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’ 

You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side. 

‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’ 

You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face. 

🎮

You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund. 

After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky. 

‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order. 

You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds. 

‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’ 

‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

You sigh.  

‘Time got ahead of me.’ 

‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’ 

‘Sure. Tmrw.’ 

You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe. 

As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful. 

🎮

“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.” 

“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.” 

He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts. 

“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks. 

“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?” 

He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up. 

“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.” 

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.  

“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully. 

“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.” 

“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.” 

“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game. 

It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing. 

“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.” 

“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.” 

“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.” 

“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead. 

Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart. 

Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work. 

Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it. 

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ. REMEMBER THOSE TIMES WHEN YOU WERE LAUGHING, AND NAKED ON MY COUCH ; — silly sex tropes with the boku no hero academia boys.

FEATURING: bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shoto + kirishima eijirou.

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, all characters aged up 20+, suggestive, sex talk but silly all around, crack lowkey. / note. this was fun to write. pls take this as a bit of filler while i finish up my super mega bkg fic. loves ya!

✎𓂃BAKUGOU KATSUKI。°˖⌕

it was a rare occasion for bakugou to actually want to show up to a hero gala - when you usually caught wind of any formal event, your blond haired man would vehemently oppose going, opting to stay at home and order some food instead. you couldn’t place what spurned bakugou’s sudden interest in attending the annual convention but as you get into your car, all dressed up and ready to go, you understand why.

“come on, they’re not gonna care if we’re a few minutes late,” pleads bakugou when you arrive at your seats, pressing displaced kisses on your done up face and swat him away slightly.

you whine at him to behave, grabbing at the hand groping at your thighs, your breasts, anywhere he can put his big hands on and you always resort to placing his hands back into the culprit’s lap.

unfortunately for you, bakugou knows how easily turned to mush you are by sweet nothings and fondling because it only takes you 8 minutes for you to cave in, inconspicuously meeting your husband at the rendezvous point. it then takes another 5 for bakugou to have your chest pressed against the mirror, lifting up your gown to touch at your most intimate parts.

“tell me how badly you want it,” he grunts, pulling down his own slacks while you grind your ass and whimper at him.

“be a good girl and take it,” bakugou breathes out gruffly, desire running through his voice and he’s just about to dip inside you-

“i’ve been holding my damn piss in all day - what the fuck? bakugou?!” yells out kaminari and bakugou practically launches himself at the cubicle door to throw the yellow blond out while you’re scrambling to cover up your indecency.

with kaminari sporting a fresh bruise on his jaw as a shameful reminder, you and bakugou vow to never get down and dirty in public spaces. bakugou still adamantly swears to this day that the door was locked.

✎𓂃MIDORIYA IZUKU。°˖⌕

you roll your eyes when you hear another pitiful groan come out of izuku, who’s sprawled out on the couch with a bandaged leg propped up on multiple pillows. he has been out of action with a broken leg for a few weeks now due to an unprecedented villain attack at the agency. it’s rendered him useless, and quite frankly bored and horny out of his mind.

that being said, you outright refuse to have sex with izuku now that he has a broken leg but it hasn’t stopped him from pleading with his big green eyes, pink lips pouting as he guilt trips you from across the house.

“please, y/n, you can just sit on it. i won’t even move a bit. you look so pretty, baby,” izuku whines as you rub lotion into his hands and arms. and what kind of girlfriend would you be to deny him in his time of recovery.

it’s rushed the way that you’re both still half clothed; already grinding on his cock and you’re doing everything in your power to make sure you don’t rest even a little bit of weight on his leg. izuku has never been good at preventing the buck of hips when you clench down on him and today is no different.

he starts subconsciously rutting into you - as he does when his orgasm starts to creep up on him - and one tight clench of your walls forces his lower body to jolt and practically throw you on to his right leg… i.e. the leg that is currently out of action.

a howl of pain emits from your boyfriend and you frantically run to your phone to call the physiotherapist, butt jiggling on the way and izuku doesn’t know what hurts more: his leg or the blue balled dick.

the next time you have sex isn’t until the cast finally comes off and no matter how many puppy dog eyes the man lays on you, you stay resolute on the decision. you even so kindly send him some nudes so he finds solace in his left hand instead of you.

izuku vows to never get another injury again; though his incentives might be slightly skewed.

✎𓂃TODOROKI SHOTO。°˖⌕

it is never a smart idea to have sex in your partner’s childhood home. it’s one thing to fuck in their bedroom; but it’s a whole other bridge to cross when it’s in their parents’ bedroom.

that being said, todoroki hates needlessly having to go to his childhood home. however, fuyumi is out of town for work; being that none of his siblings except for him could house sit and that shoto has a soft spot for his older sister, he decided to just suck it up.

luckily for him, you offer to keep him company for the next few days at his childhood home and shoto would never pass up an offer for the chance to be alone with you - considering both your inflexible work schedules and the fact that you both have roommates, shoto knew this would be a once in an annual experience.

so it was inevitable, really, that shoto would come home from a long day of patrolling and to see you donned in sexy, red lingerie, strolling up to him with your manicured hands placed delicately on his chest. and, being the succubus that you are, you both decided to do the deed in the nicest bedroom in todoroki estate: his father’s bedroom.

with every flex of his hips, shoto has you and the bed nearly folded into one being - you're moaning, begging for him to go faster as you grapple pathetically onto his shoulders while he grunts, grabbing the headboard to speed up his movements.

“that's it, pretty girl, just like that,” shoto groans, lifting your thigh to place it on his shoulder and this new position means that you feel it so much more; but it also means that the legs of the bed start scraping on the hardwood floor... and has the headboard always been so creaky?

you get your answer when a snap! releases above your head and you're about to look up when the middle of the bed caves in with a pitiful oomphh. at this point, the duochrome haired man is still snug inside you and he quickly wraps a hand behind your head to cushion the fall. the silence is ridiculously loud until you both look at each other and burst out laughing.

“my dad is going to kill me,” shoto sighs into your neck and you comfort him with a few soft touches to the nape of his head.

naturally, the pair of you continue your romp in other places of the todoroki home and by the time fuyumi comes back, she's met with a raging enji todoroki holding a sketchy, sprawled out note of:

“sorry >:] - shoto.”

✎𓂃KIRISHIMA EIJIROU。°˖⌕

kirishima regards himself as someone with high restraint and while that does dwindle when he's around you, he's still able to control himself, despite the lust-filled glances and borderline sexual touches you throw at him.

today is not one of those times.

he’s already very pent up, extremely touch starved from this three week long mission away from you. yeah, they bagged the villain, as to he expected. but at what cost? he’s found company in two pillows and pictures of you in the meantime but they do little to quell his thirst for you.

it’s around 5am when you pick him up from the airport and even though you’re both tired as hell - kirishima being jet lagged and you not being used to waking up at these ungodly hours, - the way you touch him is not that of an exhausted woman. and given the days, weeks he’s had, who was he to deny you?

throwing his suitcases haphazardly in the trunk of his your car, nary a word is said as he throws you on to his lap in the backseat, touching and fondling every bit of you to relieve himself. the red head is rockhard in mere minutes (no pun intended) and the two of you don’t even bother to partake in foreplay, both pent up from the time apart.

kirishima grunts into your neck, the back of your thighs sat in his wide palms as he hammers into you, “missed this pussy so damn m-much, fuck.” it’s desperate and the windows start fogging as an effect of the rushed ministrations but you can’t find it in yourselves to care much.

kirishima lets go of one of your thighs to hoist it around his hips, opting to place a palm on the window and unknowingly leaving a incriminating handprint.

it was just his luck that the paparazzi caught wind of the heroes that would be leaving this airport, camping outside of the building all morning. it was just their luck that they recognised red riot’s car sat idol in the parking lot. with their cameras set to burst multiple frames a second, they make a beeline to the car… and upon further inspection, they notice the car shaking slightly, as if there were somebody inside.

it’s a shame that all the paps didn’t exactly get the memo of what was going on, with a bright faced obvious newbie giddily taking a photo, flash and sound click on at full blast.

the shaking stops and muffled shuffling ensues. the group of shutterbugs are mortified to see a ragged kirishima exit the car, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

the paps didn’t really lose much out of this equation, though: who even needs those photos when a hefty check was on offer instead?

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[tawfu]

couple’s therapy

cw: dom reader, sub kaveh, sub alhaitham, begging, nipple play, anal play, creampies (kinda), masturbation, dacryphilia, slight cbt, teasing, degradation, spitting, kaveh is a mess, alhaitham is a masochist

wc: 1.4k

Summary: Settling couple’s quarrels only requires a little bit of persistence, and a fitting punishment.

You’ve grown tired of their immature fights. They’ve been able to keep their bickering in the house for the most part, but in public? It’s straight up embarrassing, and you’ve had enough of being seen with them in that state.

Is it as embarrassing as being bent over on the bed, cocks dangling in the air and heart shaped butt plugs being shown off to you while they look back, waiting for your help? Perhaps they’re doing it on purpose.

They gasp in unison as you simultaneously pull the plugs out, leftover lube slightly pouring out of their stretched assholes. Kaveh subtly reaches his hand downwards, only managing to give himself a quick stroke before he feels your hand land a harsh smack to his ass, pulling a pained moan out of him as he almost stumbles over. 

“Oh, come on!” His eyes look at you, filled with betrayal, and a teasing smirk forms on Alhaitham’s face. You really want to wipe it off.

Beckoning the scribe to his feet, he stands behind Kaveh, looking at you expectedly as you lead his hands to spread Kaveh apart, your finger prodding at his entrance. Kaveh sighs, head falling forward, but his mouth stays shut. He doesn’t like being teased.

“He looks pretty cute like this, doesn’t he? So ready for your cock,” you whisper, hot breath fanning his reddening ear, and he gulps, nodding in response. “It’s a pity that you won’t be having him tonight though.”

There’s nothing he can do but wait anxiously while you order Kaveh to keep himself open and ready and make your way to stand behind Alhaitham.

“Alright, hurry up. Get that filthy thing off.”

Your vulgar words made Alhaitham’s insides hot, but he was visibly disappointed. 

“That’s all?”

You didn’t respond, choosing to occupy your mouth with his neck, trailing kisses along the area while your fingers crept up to his chest to flick and pinch his puffy nipples, and his breath hitched in response. His fingers wrapped themselves around his cock, giving it quick, uneven strokes as he leaned his head to the side, giving you more access to his neck.

You continued your attacks on that spot, littering it in bites and hickeys as your playing with his chest didn’t cease, and you could see the way Alhaitham stared at Kaveh’s hole, dick throbbing at the proximity of it. Kaveh only looked back at the two of you, whining impatiently as he felt his hole involuntarily contract at the way your hungry eyes were looking at him down there so intently.

“Haitham… hurry and put it in…” He whimpered loudly, his neediness almost leading Alhaitham to rip himself off of your grip and just fuck him dumb, but he remained in place, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as he bucked into the tight grip of his fist. He knew very well how bad things would get for him if he didn’t obey.

Your hand trailed down to his balls, squeezing them roughly as the other one grabbed his jaw, shaking his head in place to serve as a warning. 

“Keep them open.”

Alhaitham’s eyes immediately shot open and he groaned, his stroking picking up in speed as he was nearing his limit. You kept toying with him while Kaveh was falling into desperation from just sitting there, bent over as you helped his roommate pleasure himself to the sight of him. It drove him crazy, hips moving in rhythm with Alhaitham’s strokes in a pitiful attempt to create some sort of friction out of thin air.

“This isn’t fair! Why am I the only one being punished?!” Kaveh’s voice was trembling, as though he was ready to cry.

No response… Mean.

“Hurry up, whore, we don’t have all day. Aim it right into his needy little hole.” You bit into Alhaitham’s neck, hand slapping his balls, and with that painful stimulation added on top of everything, he rushed to line the tip of his cock into Kaveh’s entrance, crying out as he spilled into him. 

Kaveh moaned out loud, legs shaking as he felt ropes of cum fill his walls. You quickly pulled Alhaitham off right before Kaveh could move back to shove him further inside, and it was evident that the poor architect’s eyes began to water due to your constant denials of pleasure.

Alhaitham on the other hand leaned against you, watching with half lidded eyes and panting as your fingers made their way into Kaveh’s hole, pushing his cum further in, and Kaveh’s whole body trembled at the contact.

He could still feel some of the warm load spilling out of him, leaking down the insides of his thighs before your hands got hold of the butt plug and pushed it into his asshole. He was so starved for your touch that the feeling alone was nearly enough to make him cum untouched.

“Alright, your turn, Kaveh.” 

Kaveh got up, awkwardly standing by your side while Alhaitham made his way to the bed. Unlike Kaveh, you forced the scribe to lie on his back and hold himself open with his arms under his knees instead, with everything from his tits to his softening cock in plain sight. And Kaveh was eating it up.

Pinning one arm to the side of Alhaitham’s head, he leaned down, already panting as he watched the stupidly handsome face he loves so much look up at him like he was the one who hung the stars in the sky. A most beautiful man, when his mouth is shut.

Your hands squeezing Kaveh’s ass interrupted his train of thought, and he slowly began stroking himself once more, eyes traveling downwards to where Alhaitham was exposed. He could still see traces of cum on his dick from only a few moments ago, and all he wanted was to suck it clean, whining as he voiced his thoughts to you. Alhaitham blushed and looked away, suddenly feeling bashful. However, it didn’t take much for the humiliation to kick in again when you were there to remind the men of their position.

“Y’know, I wonder what’s more embarrassing, milking your cock into this arrogant prick’s hole while your own is filled to the brim with his load…” Your eyes move to Alhaitham, two of your fingers making their way to forcefully open and enter his mouth. “Or just sitting there with a limp dick, spread out like a fifty cent whore while you wait for Kaveh to stuff you?”

Alhaitham gagged on your fingers, drool escaping his lips as he looked into Kaveh’s eyes desperately, while Kaveh only sobbed, removing his hand from the side of Alhaitham’s head and collapsing on his chest as he used it to polish the tip of his dick instead, stroking himself with only the thought of cumming in mind.

“His holes look so empty, don’t they? Since you can’t breed him, you should at least spit in his mouth,” you inquire. Your fingers spread Alhaitham’s mouth open, and you hold Kaveh’s head up, watching as he collects saliva and lets it drip into Alhaitham’s mouth. He swallowed it instantly, opening his mouth for more, but Kaveh was much too desperate to continue teasing Alhaitham, turning to you instead.

“Please, touch me instead! I’m sorry!”

He was sobbing at this point, cheeks stained with tears as his hands let go of his cock entirely to grab Alhaitham’s face and smash his lips into his, plump and glossy with spit. His head was slightly tilted back, still looking into your eyes with a sliver of hope that you’ll forgive him and help out.

And you do. You’re too soft for a pathetic face like his.

So while Kaveh and Alhaitham kiss like dogs in heat, your own hand only engulfs Kaveh’s cock, leaving him to thrust into it while your other hand makes its way to his plug, pushing and pulling it gently to graze Kaveh’s insides until he whimpered into Alhaitham’s mouth, body twitching violently as he emptied his balls, thick globs of cum painting the scribe’s rim and asshole white as his body turned limp, falling on top of his.

With the gray haired man’s help, you pull Kaveh off, and he watches you slip the cum that escaped back into his ass with reddened cheeks and a groan of protest before you slipped his plug back in.

“This should suffice. Be careful not to run your mouths too much today, lest the cum you were so desperately waiting to be stuffed with leaks out mid-fight,” you giggle before leaving the room, preparing to clean up the remaining mess.

[mockerycrow]

hello!! i hope you’re doing well ❤️ i saw you were taking requests and i wondering if you’d write a buck fic where him and the reader are having a stay in date and he puts on a horror movie thinking they’ll get scared and cuddle up to him but he’s the one who gets scared and they’re completely unphased, maybe even laughing at it, so it’s him who needs comfort. if you don’t get to this, ofc no issue. i just hope you have a lovely day/evening 🥰

Amused (Buck x GN!Reader)

GIF BY @cinematicnomad - masterlist

A/N: thank you for the request anon <3 i hope this is up to your standards, friend! also i apologize for not naming the movie, i don’t really watch movies :’)

WARNINGS: fluff.

Buck opened the front door to your house and quickly used his body to open it completely, a few plastic grocery bags in each of his fists. “I’m home!”

You peak your head out from the kitchen and give him a soft smile. You love how he refers to your house as home, despite having his own apartment. “In here! Did’ya get the popcorn?”

Buck snorts and makes his way to the kitchen, grunting quietly as he places the bags on the nearby counter. He looks at you with a smirk. “Of course I did. Can’t have a movie night without popcorn, now can we?” He said with amusement in his tone, taking items out of the bag and placing them on to the empty counter space next to the bags.

“No, no we cannot.” You murmur as you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You press the side of your face and your body against his back, humming quietly from Buck’s body heat. You feel him naturally lean against you as he sorts the items on the counter. “You’re warm,” You mutter, pushing your face harder against his shirt. Buck chuckles and grabs the boxes of popcorn bags, glancing over his shoulder in an attempt to look at you. “You always say that.”

“Well, it’s true!” You laugh as you let go, snatching the boxes from him. Buck isn’t phased in the slightest, you have quite good slight of hand. He bends down to a low cabinet and he takes out this very large orange bowl you usually use to hand out Halloween candy in. You look at him and raise your eyebrow as you open a popcorn box, taking a package out. Buck laughs at your expression, sliding the bowl on to the counter near the microwave; near you, of course. You sigh and open the microwave, popping the first package inside of it and you shut the door, setting the timer and hitting start. You glance at the bowl and look back at him with more amusement. “Are you sure we’ll finish such a big bowl?”

Buck playfully scoffs and faces you, a shit eating grin on his face. “I’m a growing boy, y’know!”

“You’re 30.”

“So?”

You blink and start to laugh, grabbing on to the counter. Buck’s lips curl up into a smile, watching you lose yourself in a fit of laughter. Your laughter dies into a soft giggle before you turn to the fridge, opening it and grabbing two beers. “Usually I would want soda to set the mood, but I think we deserve a couple of beers tonight.”

Buck hums in response as begins to put away the rest of everything he had bought for the next weeks meals. “You think so?”

You smile and open the microwave after it beeped, signaling it’s done. You grab the corner of the popcorn bag and tear it open, dumping the steaming and pre-buttered popcorn into the bowl. “Yeah, I do.”

After a few minutes of popping multiple bags of popcorn, Buck makes a loud groan as he falls back onto the couch next to you, bowl of popcorn in his arm, wrapping the other around you. He grins at you, pure excitement in his eyes as he makes eye contact with you. “Are you ready to watch the scariest movie of your life?” He teases, situating the bowl partially on his leg, partially on yours. You laughs and wrap an arm around his torso, leaning into his warm body. His hand squeezes your shoulder and Buck kisses your temple. “Sure, sure..” You tease, grabbing the remote.

You turn the TV on and select a horror movie, pressing play.

——————————

Buck truly thought you would be snuggling up to him, a trace of fear in your tone every time you spoke.

He could never so wrong.

“sHit!” He yells, his hand suddenly grabbing your shirt. The bowl of popcorn now in your lap as you shove handfuls in your mouth. You laugh and swallow some popcorn, glancing at him. “Wait- you’re scared?” You ask, your face and tone filled with amusement. “Fucking Evan Buckley, the man who literally walks through FIRES every week is scared of a little movie?”

Buck stutters, a nervous laugh leaving him. “What? I’m not sCar- wHAT IS THAT?!” He yells loudly, leaning into your body instead of the other way around. You throw your head back and let out a echoing laugh, one of your hands slapping the couch as you can’t contain yourself. “It’s not funny!” He screeches, scrambling for the remote to pause it. You let out a wheeze laugh and close your eyes, tears brimming at your lash lines due to laughing. “Okay!” You giggle, clearing your throat as you look at him. Your laughter begins to die down. “Okay, it’s not funny..!”

You make a blank expression for a split second and then you begin to crack up, your head reeling back so fast that the thought of whiplash vaguely comes to mind. Buck’s cheeks tint pink from semi-embarrassment and he grumbles, pushing you gently and playfully. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want..”

You keep giggling as you ignore him pushing you and you move the bowl from your lap, wrapping your arms around Buck and pulling him into your chest. “Sorry, I know, it’s just so fucking funny, babe,” You say with a smile on your lips. Buck childishly mocks your tone as he wraps his arms around you, immediately relaxing. You rub his back before trailing up to scratch his scalp. “It’s not real, Buck. It’s fine.”

He hums in appreciation, closing his eyes to completely enjoy the moment. You snort and murmur, “Let’s just hope you remember to keep the closet door shut.”

His eyes shoot open and look at you, narrowing, yet he’s letting out a laugh. “[Name]!”

[bigtreefest]

Pour Clueless Babes

Pairing: Bartender! Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: unbeknownst to you both, you and the broody bartender can’t help your want to be around each other

Word count: 1,751

Content/warnings: swears?, slight objectification and misogyny, attempts at hiding feelings, alcohol consumption, teasing from friends, a hint of idiots in love?, a small mention of Curtis’s rooftop herb garden, it’s mostly fluff and mutual pining

A/N: written for Siri’s Birthday Bonenanza!! Love you, babes, and happy birthday. @stargazingfangirl18

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Prompts: Babe is in love and cranky about it + Character A is frustrated at how fucking oblivious Character B is to their advances + “I’m sure you could talk me into saying ‘yes’ to whatever you want.”

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

“You just need to buck up and ask her out.”

Curtis rolled his eyes at his friend sitting in a lawn chair across from him in the rooftop garden, pairing it with a scoff before he took another sip of his beer.

“It’s not that easy, dude.”

Ari, Curtis’s longtime friend, co-owner and often co-bartender of the main dive in town shifted in his seat with a raised brow and tilt of the head. “Sure it is! You’re hot, and from the way you talk about her, so is she. I don’t see what could go wrong.”

Curtis grumbled and finished off his bottle, grabbing another from the bucket of ice and uncapping it. “A lot. A lot could go wrong, Ari. I don’t want a quick fuck and I sure as hell don’t have girls throwing themselves at me like you do on Friday nights.”

Ari scoffed, but had no rebuttal, it was true. Women flocked to Ari’s side of the bar, always creating a crowd where the regulars couldn’t get served. So Curtis took them, while Ari could be caught slinging dozens of fruity drinks for all the flirts who constantly mentioned how strong and attentive he was. The only reason Curtis didn’t complain was because they split tips, Ari getting several banknotes marked with phone numbers and salacious messages, and Curtis getting the peace of the calmer drinkers.

Sure, a woman here and there would come to Curtis for a drink, figuring Ari wasn’t worth the wait and the shoulder bumping, but that was few and far between. Until you.

From the moment he watched you walk through the door, he kept an eye on your searching gaze, smiling when you saw your friends, but making a beeline for him before you went and sat.

The next time you came up to him, though, Curtis made sure your drink was on the house. Anything for the pretty girl who smiled at him. Chose him. And was much more enjoyable than his grumbling regulars.

Curtis was pulled out of this thoughts by Ari’s groan.

“Listen, I don’t think women throw themselves at me…”

Curtis looked at his friend with disbelief at the blatant lie.

“…that much. Not that much, I was gonna finish, jeez. Plus, what’s it matter, it’s not like I take them home…usually. Sloppy drunk isn’t cute and too many of them just keep coming back until I cut them off. No one has chatted me up like they want a date instead of in my pants because all I get are googly eyes, but this sounds different for you. She sounds good.”

Curtis sighed and wiped a hand over his beard. Ari was right. You were good. Probably too good for him. Plus, it’s not like you even noticed any move he tried to put on you. You were probably just being nice, not flirty. You probably didn’t even notice the free drinks using special ingredients made from the garden, the rare smile he’s never given another customer. It was kind of infuriating that he was so ready to give himself over to you and you had no idea just how deep it ran. How it affected him and stayed on his mind even in the off hours. Guys had to be throwing themselves at you, and he was just another one to add on to the bottom of the list.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…I don’t wanna mess it up, ya know? Am I even ready for this? Why now? Why do I have to feel something now? And I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

Ari only offered a shrug.

“I don’t know, man. When it’s time, it’s time.”

That’s all he gave. Curtis groaned and wiped a hand down his face, rubbing back and forth over his beard once again. “Yeah….it’s just…ugh. I can’t think of anything else. I’ve got all these plans for bar improvement. The herb garden is finally coming in nicely and I was gonna meet with those brunch people from the city to talk about expanding our offerings beyond the few ideas I’ve come up with, but I can’t focus on a goddamn thing other than her.”

Curtis was almost mad it was affecting him so much—that he looked forward to seeing you. Yearned to make you another drink, hold conversation just a second longer. Nothing had ever stuck to his mind this much.

Ari only laughed as he looked over the edge of the roof at the town where the two had grown up. Over all that time, he had never seen his buddy this torn up.

Pulling two more drinks out of the bucket, he uncapped them and handed one to his friend.

“Well, here’s hoping you get this all sorted out. And by that, I mean, get your big boy pants on, fully admit your feelings, and ask her out.”

Curtis groaned and threw a hand over his eyes while his best friend simply smirked, knowing he was right.

It was Friday night and you were hanging out with some of your friends at the bar you had been frequenting lately. Everyone around you was in deep conversation, but you were lost, zoned out, with your mind on only one thing: that gruff bartender.

You had already been up to see him three times this evening, insisting to be the one to get the next rounds for the table in hopes of garnering his attention.

You felt successful. Maybe? Every time you went up to him, his full attention was on you. And it looked like he was smiling, right? Well, no, he probably did that with everyone. Except…in the several times you had caught yourself staring at him, he never once made that same face at another customer. So it had to mean something, didn’t it?

You felt your shoulder shaking, pulling you out of your thoughts and blinked back into consciousness.

“What? What?” You shook your head and looked back at your group of friends.

Alana sitting next to you rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Your drink has been sitting empty for a minute, girl. We’re just surprised you haven’t gone back to the broody bartender, yet! Jenna said she dropped by and all she got was a scowl when she asked for green tea shots, but we see the way he looks at you. Think you could score us some good shots?”

You scoffed and leaned back in your seat, trying to deny what you felt, but didn’t necessarily see. “Oh please, I’m sure he doesn’t even notice me!”

The three girls across from you exchanged a glance before Jenna shook her head. “Um, wrong. One hundred percent wrong. I’m pretty sure you’re all he notices and he’s the same for you. Can’t believe you two are so blind to each other. You keep going up to him and you’re up to a total of what? Half a dozen free drinks over a few visits at this point?”

Everyone around you shared the same knowing glance and you were ready to concede. You couldn’t help the way your heart started beating faster with anticipation of going up to him again, but the alcohol flowing through your body, finally settling in, was enough to override any last ounce insecurity you had. You just wanted to be close to him that badly again, despite his apparent disdain for fancy shots. It was worth a try, though, so you sighed and nodded and stood up, saving your brain power so you could say something coherent to the beautifully beastly bartender.

As you steadied yourself in your shoes, the alcohol hit a little harder, but you weren’t going to stop now. As you began your steps across the wooden floor, your eyes locked with the man with the dark beard and buzz cut and watched as his deft hands slid another beer across the counter at a regular.

You waltzed up to the varnished bar and drummed your fingers on the edge as you looked up at the head between a towering pair of broad shoulders. If you’d have known better, you’d have said he was almost beaming at you.

“Hey sweet thing, what can I get you?”

A tingle went down your spine at that. You would’ve claimed it was the alcohol, if you hadn’t known that it usually numbed you instead of set your body alight. The bartender, who you’d come to know as Curtis, usually wasn’t that outright with the pet names. From what you had seen so far, he was pretty reserved. Something had changed tonight, though, and you couldn’t complain about that, so you threw it back.

“Well, handsome, I’m really sorry to ask this, but would you be willing to make me four green tea shots? I’m sorry if it’s a lot to ask…”

From your side, you heard a snicker, and your eyes found an older gentleman, likely one of the bar regulars. Curtis’s gaze had darted to him, too, except his eyes were stern. The gentleman knew that Curtis wasn’t usually one to make drinks with more than a couple steps, and especially not on more than one occasion in a night unless it was for someone pretty exceptional. And you seemed like both of those things. Curtis simply cleared his throat to regain your attention and pulled out the glasses before finding what he needed.

“Well lucky for you, I’m sure you could talk me into saying ‘yes’ to whatever you want.” He winked as he expertly tipped the bottles.

A blush crept up your cheeks along with the one the liquor had put there. You were gone enough on his behavior and your last few drinks that there wasn’t much to hold you back anymore before you blurted, “Does that include dinner with me next Thursday?”

Curtis stopped in his tracks, slamming the bottles down on the counter with a loud thud that startled you. His face was almost unreadable. Sure, before tonight, you felt like he may not have seemed interested, but in your small chats over drink orders throughout this evening, that changed. You didn’t read this wrong, did you?

You watched intently as his gaze which was fixed on the worn wooden table shifted upward to look at you through his eyelashes. Those gorgeous, long eyelashes. A true, genuine smile was on his lips. He had no idea you felt the same way as him. “Yeah. I think it does.”

Bonus A/N: bartender!Curtis will return in the second part of this, and we’ll see much more about his herb garden and secret treats for his girl. This is the first thing I’ve written in months, so cut me some slack, okay, but I’d love your feedback in all forms.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[hippolotamus]

another installment of what I'm calling the cleopatra series. this time from Eddie's POV because I got in my Buddie feels. part 1 here 💙

late for the love of my life | 7x06 Coda | 912 words | G

“Hey, how was it?” Marisol wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a peck on the lips. 

Eddie barely suppresses the urge to flinch and turn away. Which is maybe a tad dramatic, except for the way it isn’t. Because the past 24 hours have held more than a few revelations. None of which Eddie is ready to share. 

Despite the layers of clothing between them, his skin tingles and crawls where she touches him. If he didn’t have years of experience being exposed to fluids, substances and people he didn’t want anywhere near him, he thinks he would have wrenched away from her by now. No, he definitely would have. But he’s a professional at hiding his personal reactions, both on and off the job. 

Yes, he’s made progress in therapy, but the instincts to hide himself, to put up walls and masks, are still easily activated. Handy for moments like now, when he can’t escape his girlfriend. Or when he has to smile big for the crowd and pretend the perpetual feelings for his best friend don’t exist when said best friend barrels back into the room all lovestruck and covered in soot from his boyfriend. 

“It was good. Really nice, actually.” That much is true. Because it was. Honestly, the whole hospital room chic was perfectly Maddie and Chim. 

“Nice?” She asks in a teasing tone, squeezing tighter and clinging to his torso like a koala. 

His breathing is acceptably even but the urge to peel her off, to tell her that she should probably go home because his heart rate is skyrocketing, his fingers and toes are tingling, and he’s beginning to feel claustrophobic is anything but. His built in panic mode suspects there isn’t enough Jell-o in the universe to undo this. Again, dramatic, but he thinks he’s within his rights to think so right now. 

“Yeah, I-” He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut and inhales as deeply as he can manage. “Y’know, I’m, uh, still feeling a little worse for wear from last night. I should-” He doesn’t even finish the sentence, just points vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. 

Marisol’s relaxed ‘welcome home’ look turns concerned as she furrows her brow and holds the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay? I should probably stay over in case you need–” 

“Really,” he interjects, backing out of her hold, “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off, I think. You should go. Home. To your place.” Smooth, Diaz. “I mean, because I’ll probably be restless, y’know?”

“I can sleep on the cou-”

“No,” he says more forcefully than intended. He should be grateful she wants to stay and take care of him. He should. He is. But not the couch. Not… Buck’s bed. His place. Their place.

“Oh.” She takes a step back and he should probably feel worse about the way she looks so dejected. “I, um, I understand. Talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah, talk tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow when I’ve had a chance to reset. When the twin alcohol and love hangovers have hopefully, finally died off. When I’m not seeing an endless mental projection reel of reminders like Or, y’know, you could have mine. Then why are you in hospital jail? Stay with me, Buck. Him choking on blood. You saved him. Abby. His fiancee is Abby. Showoff. My blood on him. Hey, Buck. You think you’re expendable. They’re all dead. I, uh, misunderstood the assignment. Three minutes and seventeen seconds. She sees me. It was a date. 

The front door clicks in the latch and he immediately turns the deadbolt, noting how his pulse drops to a debatably more normal range. He wants to settle on the couch, under the covers in his bed, both and neither all at the same time. In the end he migrates to the kitchen, which really shouldn’t surprise him. 

He runs his fingers over the backs of the chairs, circling around until he’s standing between the table and main counter. Am I one of the things that makes you sad? So now am I allowed to ask how you are? But you do eventually - you process it? 

Eddie turns toward the fridge, drawn to Shannon’s photo. He plucks it from under the magnet, running his thumb over the glossy print. 

“Can never quite get my timing down, can I?” He huffs out a wet chuckle. “God, I wish you were here right now. I could really use someone to talk to.” 

If it wasn’t after midnight he would probably drive himself to the cemetery to sit on the stone bench. To talk to someone that can’t talk back but would nonetheless tell him what an idiot he is. To unfairly water her grave with tears shed because he always thinks he has more time. You might have noticed I almost died. Again. And then I thought, this is it. This is the last day of my life. We’re all going to die alone. That’s what she said to me and Hen. 

Truthfully he’s not sure who he’s thinking of more — Shannon or Buck — as he slides to the floor, still clutching her picture, beginning to sob and shake as the words I love you so much flash like a neon reminder of his poor timing. Does it really matter? Because either way he’s missed his chance. 

But I guess it’s your mess now. 

Part 3 (Buck's POV)

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"The Test." Part Two. Sugar Daddy AU. Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Sugar Baby Reader.

Part one here! Hey, hey, hey! Here it is part two! Picking up RIGHT where part one left off! So this is basically all porn, so happy to be finishing this behemoth! So I might add onto this in the future if people want it, there is still the rest of this three day weekend to go over! Feedback very much encouraged on this one! Thanks for reading and enjoy!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.6K. Billy Loomis/Stu Mach/Sugar Baby FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Age Gap. Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. Sex Work. Restrained Reader. Tit Slapping. Nipple Play. Pain Play. Knife Play. Blood Play. Vaginal Fingering. Edging. Orgasm Denial. Vaginal Sex. Anal Sex. Blow Job. Throat Fucking. Extreme Kink. Double Penetration. Multiple Cream Pies. Dirty Talk. Praise. Degredation. Aftercare.

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Billy felt a thrill run through him. This was unbelievably exciting, so far, this is everything he’d been wanting, all he’d been hoping for. He and Stu both looked at eacdoh other, even though he couldn’t see the eyes of his long term best friend, he knew he felt the same. Giddy, alight, ready to really dive in. A deep breath to compose and really ready himself. 

You wait, but you aren’t left questioning for long, the hand that isn’t holding the knife comes into view, he palms the now obvious clothed erection so close to your face, so easy to see with how your head is currently tilted. “I think we are going to put that mouth of yours to work.” 

The robe is hauled up, and his belt is open, he isn’t in a rush but also clearly he wants to get inside you after all this build up, zipper comes down, then he is exposed, thick and hard, hanging right there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him. 

You open your mouth and try to appear somewhat reluctant about it, a valiant attempt to mask the strong desire to have him in your waiting mouth, you manage it well, to not show the excess of saliva that pools or the want in your eyes from the prospect of getting him inside. You want to please them, play your part of the unwilling victim. Your eyes are locked on the bead of pre-cum at this tip, you want to taste it.

“Mmm, can’t you at least try to look a little happy about it?” The question makes you scoff, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes and instead, while keeping your mouth open, you quirk up at the sides. A nearly comical open-mouthed smile forms from the action that in response makes you feel this wash of an emotion that is surely a cousin of humiliation, it also gets minor praise from him, “Better.”

It hits your ears right before, he shoves his cock into the orifice with such brutality it makes even you, the experienced paid slut for hire, gag. It isn’t the hardest you’ve ever gagged, yet there is still a particular kind of force behind it, your body rocking away before making yourself roll forward, taking him deeper, to the root until your lips wrapped around the base. 

He holds, staring down at you, the bulge of himself buried in your throat apparent and crystal clear, if he reached down and squeezed he could feel the pressure of his fingers through the walls of your neck for sure. As it stands at this moment, he doesn’t do that, the knife is still pressed to your throat after all. The view is spectacular, combined with the sensation, it is enough to make his breath stutter, and you can hear it from behind the mask. 

Slowly, he pulls out before bucking his hips forward again with a quiet curse, “Fuck.”

That one exclamation does absolutely everything for you, the cadence of it, you are able to hear the heavier breathing, both sides of that word almost bracketed by a moan. He starts to get into a sporadic rhythm, it is hard to keep track of when he is going to jam himself in or retreat, but you are trying to anticipate his needs, stay on top of it and please him as best as you can, you are doing this to save your life, right?

While you are distracted trying to work with him, move your head, take him as he pushes forward and pull back when he does so you can sneak in breaths whenever he isn’t lodged in your throat, you are assaulted with another sensation leaving you floundering to contend with. 

What sensation is that? The light touch of leather gloved fingertips on the tops of your thighs, they move, patterns being traced that you can’t keep track of before they slip between your thighs and then part them, spreading your legs, exposing yourself. You can feel drool slipping past your lips, running down your face, gravity helping pull the wetness on its way, you still keep up, but barely as finally fingers touch you where you are soaking and aching. The touch is gentle in comparison to how brutal your mouth is getting fucked, one hand palms you carefully, fingers press but don’t penetrate, they rub but not where you wished they would. The first hand shifts, spreads your lips open and then the second joins, thumb dips slightly into your hole collecting slickness before tracing up, circling around your already swollen clit, and you stiffen, moaning around the intrusion between your lips. 

“God, that feels good.” The cock is forced deeper into your throat, “Again.” 

The pressure increases and the circles get smaller, the feeling becoming more intense, and you moan again, louder, whimper a little at the jolt of pleasure that overtakes, and this is how it goes. One between your thighs, touching and rubbing your clit, the other fucking your mouth with abandon until you feel lightheaded from the lack of proper oxygen, trying to breathe while blowing and getting pleasured like this was proving to be impossible. You swallow thickly, trying to manage the excess of spit you were producing, and it was as if they planned it ahead, the timing of it is perfect. Right when you swallow, the first one pushes his hips forward, the head of his dick breaching the tightness of your throat mid-swallow, and the one between your legs? He slips two fingers into your leaking hole, his thumb pressing on your clit all the while. You gag and your walls clench around his fingers, the drag of the leather of his gloves feels much better than it should, his thumb is swirling around and around your clit, your hips buck, wanting to get more of the sensations he was foisting upon you.  

It becomes a blur of trying not to choke on spit or the dick in your mouth as you are catapulted to the edge with alarming speed. The push and pull of the entire act, the heightened emotions from the scenario at hand, all of it, has you near cumming, your body betrays you, tightening, getting more tense and trembling slightly, almost, so fucking close and right before you can tip over, before that first wonderful spasm can start, the fingers are ripped from your hole, leaving you dangling. Your hole is grasping, clitoris throbbing, both silently calling out for something to push you over and finding nothing. Your hips squirm and you whine around the dick in your mouth, if you were able to pout around the thick shaft, you would have.  

“Stop hogging her mouth and let me have a turn.” The voice cuts through the lustful haze, it sounds playful but with an edge that mirrors the knife being held to your throat. 

“Fine.” He grunts before pulling out of you, your eyes take a second to adjust, managing to catch the sight of the wet leash of your saliva still connecting him and you break as he moves back, the blade lifts off of you as you suck down a series of deep breaths. You don’t have time to try and regain some sense of yourself as you are spun on the smooth, polished table-top with ease. Now you are reversed, confronted with the man who was just fingering you, glove still wet as he hauls his robe up and starts opening his pants. 

You wish that your hands weren’t tied and pinned under you right now, you wanted to reach out and tug him close to you, wanted to taste him the moment that second cock was revealed. Patience was apparently wearing thin, pointer finger and thumb at the base of his shaft, near neatly trimmed coarse hair, he guides himself into your open and waiting mouth. 

The moan of satisfaction was so arousing, you swear to God above you feel yourself get wetter. 

“Fucking shit-” He gasps as he thrusts experimentally and the other one hums in response, “Right?” 

There is less than five thrusts into your mouth before you feel a hand between your legs again, two fingers thrust unceremoniously into your hole, you clench, body tenses, you had backed off from the edge, but you were still incredibly sensitive. His thumb presses to your clit but doesn’t rub, the fingers fuck in and out, the pressure combined with the lack of movement of his thumb is killing you viciously, it isn’t enough, you want movement, more friction. However, you are drenched, the wetness is a comfort and a curse, makes for fluid and smooth work, but it also dulls the feeling slightly. The butter soft leather is lovely, sure, but it isn’t what you need right now. His fingers curl, he finds what he wants and he abuses it liberally, he curls into the firmer, rougher tissue causing you to moan, your eyes squeeze shut. His thumb doesn’t move a single centimetre, he drags you to the edge with his middle and ring finger working at a steady pace, up, up, up and there you are, so fucking close you can almost taste it and he stops. Doesn’t even take his fingers out because of the risk he might accidentally trigger it, he just holds, you are throbbing around him and he waits for the edge to recede before he starts again. 

You groan, much more focused on the intrusion in your cunt than the one in your mouth, you had fallen into a good rhythm with that, mostly letting him do what he wanted, take the lead, do what he wished the same way his partner in crime was.

Surviving the next two edges was equal parts blissful and terrible. He worked them out of you quickly, you, of course, let him without putting up a fight, just moaning mournfully around a mouthful of cock.

You wonder if you can get away with it, with grinding your hips up without him protesting, could instead put forth the effort to rub your clitoris on him instead of waiting for him to rub it that last pass needed to make you cum. If you timed it right you could make it happen, push yourself over, steal that much coveted orgasm out right from under him, because who knows if they had plans to let you cum tonight at all. If you do that, make yourself cum using him before he is ready for you to? Who knows what he will do. 

Should you risk it? You swallow around the cock shoving its way into you, inching further and further down your throat, once more your head spinning with want, so fucking close, you are nearly there, his fingers feel incredible. You are buzzing with pleasure, you could always blame it on the lack of proper oxygen, so with that thought you do something stupid.

You move. 

Hips squirm, arching up and then coming back down, the slip of him, of the firm pressure sliding up your clitoral hood and then back down fully over your clit makes you cry out, walls gripping a bit tighter, and that is as far as you get. That knife is put against your hip, your eyes are watering slightly with the effort and severity of the throat fuck, a sharp inhale through your nose, shoulders shuddering as you jump from feeling the cold steel against heated flesh. 

You feel your pussy fighting it, trying to go over the edge, his thumb was barely touching you now, had eased way up, so the contact was extremely minimal, his fingers inside you still and straight, not even curled, not pressed into the spot you needed and slowly, agonizingly, you feel the orgasm slip from your grasp. You didn’t time it correctly and you missed your chance. 

His voice slices through the air as easily as his blade would be able to do your skin, “Try it again. See what happens.” 

An invitation. You hesitate, obviously, fearful of hurting yourself. He pushes, “I mean it, if you want to cum that fucking badly you’d do it, hm? Trade a little bit of pain for some pleasure.” 

You make a sound of question that makes the thrusting into your mouth falter, he pulls out over halfway, just the head of his dick resting between your lips. He joins in, encouraging what the man threatening you between your legs, was suggesting, “Yeah, I want to see it, unless you want to wait for a cock in the other end of you-” He laughs as he slides back in fully, deeply, you gag and he pulls back out almost all the way, “-you aren’t cumming any other way. And you should see how cruel he can be, the stamina on him? He’d be content to fuck with you like that for hours.” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief, hours? He could and would edge you like this for hours? You had barely made it halfway to ten, no way could you make it through hours of that particular brand of torment. You whimper, partly from the situation, partly because those fingers inside your wet walls stir, slow, counterclockwise, stretching you, and you decide fuck it, you can’t hold out. You rock your hips, conveying your consent and they seem pleased by this, “Good. C’mon, put on a show like you did earlier in bed, yeah? Show us how bad you wanna get off.” 

The reminder of their voyeuristic tendencies makes your cunt clench again. 

The cock pulls out of your mouth and slaps your cheek wetly, “Hey, don’t forget about me.” He inserts himself back into your mouth, just the head, and you give a small nod. You lick and suck at the head of his cock as his gloved hand proceeds to slowly stroke his shaft. 

He praises you, “Good girl.” 

Hearing that in that voice? Christ, you wouldn’t take long. The fingers inside curl again, his thumb closer again, and you get to work. Your feet are up on the table, knees bent, you roll your hips, arch up and down, squirm and writhe, rubbing yourself to your hopeful end on his fingers, using gravity to help, pleasing yourself both inside and out. You are very, very aware of the knife, it is to your hip, over the bone, and you find with every movement, there is a small spike of fear, wondering if this will be the pass he presses it the few extra ounces of pressure needed to make that first cut. 

Suck, lick, tongue swirling around the tip, flick, gasp, moan appreciatively and closer and closer you get to the edge. “God, you are such a fucking slut, you just couldn’t get away fast enough before, so confident, wanting to run off down the beach for help and look at you now.”

He sounded a mix of joyful, condescending and mocking all in one, “I’m not doing a damn thing, this is all you, I mean Christ look at you! Slobbering all over my buddies dick and fucking yourself on my fingers.”

He exhales amused, “This isn’t even enough to deter you-”, he taps the knife on your hip and it makes your legs jerk, your cunt grasps at his fingers and he laughs, shocked and delighted, “Oh! See? I think it’s more than that, you actually fucking like it.”

You try to shake your head, try to protest that isn’t true but the one whose cock you are currently worshipping isn’t having it, he smacks your left breast, the pain is sharp, he pinches your nipple next and says harshly, “Get off that high horse of yours sweetheart, you are just as fucked as we are but don’t worry we like it!”

“Yeah, we do, we like to take good care of our toys.” He hums, you hadn’t stopped moving your hips, hadn’t stopped trying to satisfy yourself, your movements are getting sloppier, messier. “Oh, look at you, getting close again, hm?”

You nod, your mouth is uncoordinated, but he doesn’t seem to mind, in fact he is seemingly loving watching you losing your mind, stroking himself as you slurp at the head of his dick, his body language telling you his immense enjoyment.

So consumed with pleasure you had almost forgotten about the knife, as if he could sense this, he chose that moment to remind you. He pressed harder and the skin breaks, you cry out, eyes squeeze shut and your hips stutter, pausing midair, two slaps ring out, one on your chest again, the other on your inner thigh with the back of his hand before the knife is replaced over the fresh wound. You hiss at the rush of pain, “Show us you want it! Keep. Fucking. Going.” 

You did want it, you did want to cum, you needed it so badly, and his tone left no room for argument. You keep going, you rock with renewed vigor, his thumb is slipping over your clit, fingers pushing into that sweet spot again and again, as you move, you find yourself almost sawing the knife into your hip, the cut isn’t deep, but it is getting wider.

You can’t look, but you feel it, hot blood spilling out, running down over your hip, the curve of your ass, your inner thigh, gloved fingers pick some of it up in the process of your pursuit of pleasure, wet crimson adding to the sweat of your tense body, to the mess of your slick pouring from your cunt, creating the most obscenely erotic lube the pair had ever seen.

They knew they would both have to fuck you, bloodlust feeding into sexual lust, merging, twisting, combining.

The cock is pulled from between your lips, no longer stroking himself, he just wants to watch, wants to hear you. With your mouth unoccupied, it hangs open as you allow yourself to pant and moan through it, vocally express yourself. Even with the pain, it doesn’t hurt or hinder, no, it’s helping, the sharp stinging and burning cut of the blade assists and you are hanging on by a thread that is threatening to snap at any second. A quiet and breathless chant is leaving you, “Please, please, please, m’ so fucking close-”

“Nothing stopping you, certainly not us.” 

Your eyes flick down to the man currently two fingers deep, that mask’s hollow empty eyes are staring back at you makes your breath catch, one more, you know it, you think they both do, one more rise and fall of your hips, one more grind, one more cut, and you’ll be there. Your whole body is trembling with the effort, so fucking near you think you might go insane if he stops you from seeing it through again, “Do it.” 

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, hips fall, fingers press inward harder with him helping, thumb slips over your clit and the band inside snaps, your whole cunt spasms and you cum. A bleeding, sweating, shaking, gasping mess, you cum, walls like a vice around his fingers, throbbing and completely alive. You feel indescribably amazing, barely holding on, vision whiting out, you have no words, unable to begin to convey how strong your orgasm was. It’s the kind of climax that leaves you speechless, gun to your head, or knife to your throat, you don’t think you’d be able to adequately describe it in a way that would save your pathetic life. You are left feeling different afterwards, floating and ears ringing, body uncontrollable, from so tense, too loose as can be. 

When the pleasure did finally stop, when every bit of sensation had been wrung out of your body and you were lying flat back on the table, legs dangling once more, chest heaving, struggling to catch your breath.

It isn’t verbally communicated, or maybe it is, you aren’t sure, you are still kind of out of it, you register fingers slipping out, but not much else, your ears are still fucking ringing. You are repositioned, put on your stomach, one leg brought up, knee on the table, the robe flipped up, covering your still bound hands pressed into your lower back. You try to roll your wrists in their restrained state, and yup, just like you thought they’d be, totally asleep. Your cheek is to the table-top, eyes wanting to slip closed, your pussy and ass are totally exposed like this, hands spread you open and you hear a happy sigh, “Oh come look at this!” 

The other one walks around the table to join his friend, his thumb presses to the base of the anal plug you slipped in after your bath, “When did you get this inside yourself?” His tone sounded pleasantly surprised and very pleased.

“She’s a sneaky, filthy little thing. Didn’t I tell you?” The one whose cock you just had in your mouth pre-orgasm asked and the other responded, “You did, I swear I’ll never doubt you again, now go get the lube.” 

You hear him step away, the other continues to prod at the anal plug buried in your ass for a moment before his fingers hook around the base and he slowly starts to remove  it. You hiss slightly at the pull, you had lubed it very well, but that was a long while ago now, he pulls harder and it pops out with relative ease. Breathing a sigh of relief, you hear the heavy steel plug set on the table further down with a minor clank, as well as more footsteps, signalling the return of his friend. 

“Here you go.” 

“Thank you, so-” He takes the lube and you hear the click of the lid open as if for emphasis, “-she’s an admirable cocksucker, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah, very good, she’s got a nice throat, can take a good pounding.” He sounded gleeful, a sound of agreement rings out before it’s added onto, “You were fucking into it pretty hard for a minute there.” 

So true, he gave it to you rough, your throat will feel a bit raw tomorrow for sure.

“But we still have two other holes to try out, and she was nice enough to start prepping one for us, it’d be rude not to take advantage. Hold her open for me.” 

You feel hands on your ass, spreading you open, and then feel the cold lube pouring down over your tightest hole and in short order, two fingers rubbing around the rim, spreading the cool slippery substance around. You remained relaxed, you weren’t a stranger to anal, you’d done some prep earlier, it wouldn’t take much to get you ready to go. 

“You have a preference?” One asks, and the other responds, “Who says we can’t try both?”

“Elaborate.” One finger begins to slide in, the material of the leather is smooth but still provides some drag, he sinks in to the last knuckle before pulling out, more lube is heaped on before reinserting. 

“Start in her cunt, get a good feel for it, then end in her ass, obviously.” It is said so easily, like it’s unbelievably simple.

“Sure, you are gonna be able to wait me out?” He teases and the other laughs, “Ha! Who says I have to? Once you are in the back, I’ll slide in the front. A whore like her? She can take a dick in each hole, no problem.”

“You are so right! Stupid of me to think otherwise. Too bad we don’t have a third friend for her mouth, could make her airtight.” That thought makes you shiver, fuck.

“Maybe something for the future.” He muses. 

The conversation turns quiet save for the occasional comment from them, or moan from you, as he continues to lube you up and finger your ass open, before you know it you have a second and a third finger buried in you, he was twisting and scissoring them, stretching you wider and wider until he deemed you ready to go. You were excited, very into this and leaking even more, you can’t help it, anal even after all this time, is a major turn on. You had been rocking back into him for a while, moving with him, encouraging him with your deepened breathing and pitched moans, biting your tongue to hold back your begging for more. 

His hands grip your hips and pulls you back towards him, you feel how sticky his fingers are with lube, you feel more alert, recovered from the monstrous orgasm you experienced earlier and ready for more. His hands lift momentarily to slick his cock up, you can hear the wetness of it, your fluttering stomach flat to the table, and his hands are back on you, gripping your hips tighter. You feel it, the hot velvety brush of his cock against you, bumping over your clit, he allows that for a moment, a few passes that makes your breath stutter. You feel next, a hand between you and him, gripping him, “Let me help.”

He assists in dragging the blunt and fat head up through your folds, spreading your ample wetness, adding on further to the slickness already coating him.

“Ready?” It's said quietly, so quietly you aren't sure if you are even meant to hear it, was it meant for you or for him? 

A small hum and a confirmation, asking low, “Stop teasing me.” 

“You're no fun.” It's said light, teasing, ignoring his friend's explicit ask, uttered in such a way it has you questioning just how deep their relationship goes, the true nature of it. 

“Shut up.” The response comes, fond, and with what sounds like a grin. 

He's lined up and he pushes forward, he fills you completely, the hand guiding his shaft into you falls away. You know who is who, now. The one who is buried balls deep in you is Billy, not a single doubt in your mind. The one who was in your mouth first, who threatened you with the knife, who spilled your blood, who edged you into oblivion, made you cum so hard you saw stars and spent ample time fingering your ass open and now was inside you, stretching the walls of your pussy so well, was Billy. He pauses, and Stu, you realize now, asks, “How does she feel?”

Billy sighs, “She's soaked-” He pulls out halfway before thrusting in again, “-and somehow so, so fucking tight.”

He began a slow rhythm, fucking you in earnest, his own breathing behind the mask picking up, that makes more heat flare inside,“You know something feels off.” 

He fucks harder, as if barrelling into your pussy with more strength will reveal the answer he is looking for. His hands are on you as he stills, they start to wander, feeling you, legs, ass, lower back before curling down and his fingers press over your hip and you cry out from him pressing so hard on the cut from earlier. “Oh, that’s what it is! She’s not bleeding anymore.” 

He sounds disappointed.

A beat before Stu responds, “We can fix that.” 

You hear the sound of the previously abandoned blade on the wooden table-top getting pulled up, that distinct schink sound as it is drawn up, “You just focus on fucking her.” 

He comes around the front of you, facing you, looking down and brandishing that knife, he gives a small wave with the steel as if to say, “Hi.” 

Even with his face covered with that mask, you are sure of the look on his face, the playful shit eating grin, eyes alight with mischief.

Billy starts fucking you once more, you moan helpless to resist, brows furrow as the haze of pleasure descends once more and Stu steps closer, the hand not holding the knife reaches down and he cradles your chin. His thumb traces your lips before pressing to your bottom lip, you can smell the leftover juices from when he was fingering you earlier still clinging to the leather. 

“Where should I cut you? Where should I cut you?” He is musing it as if to himself, you know he isn’t asking you. 

You have no say in this. 

He is humming, you can almost feel his eyes moving over your body, currently being rocked from the force of Billy’s thrusts. His hand moves, slips down your throat before tracing your collar bones and then going over your shoulder, strong fingers follow the line of your spine all the way up to the nape of your neck, to where your hair starts. He nods, small, nearly imperceptible and he brings the knife down. The cut isn’t deep, however it is quick, precise, he cuts slightly above where his fingers were pressing, you hiss and clench around Billy’s shaft, making him groan. Honestly, it’s a smart place. Your hair can hide any scar that comes from this easily, he presses harder, squeezes and makes more blood spill and it only has one place to go, down your back. It makes it look much worse than it actually is, the pain isn’t actually the bad, the pleasure is far outweighing it at. 

“How’s that?” Stu asks, and Billy responds easily, “Much fucking better.” 

Billy’s hand reaches up, his fingers smear the blood down your back, his hand lifts only to come back down hard, smacking right on your ass as his hips drive into you the hardest they have all night. Stu’s hand is cradling the back of your neck, pressing down on that wound in time with Billy’s thrusts and the chorus of moans it draws from you are pitched and loud, caught between heaven and hell, pain and pleasure. You inhale through your teeth, musing faintly how thankful you are that all the houses lining the beach are spaced so far apart, some of the moans they have you making would be cause for concern for nearly anyone who overheard your current lustful activities. 

Billy pulls you back as he fucks forward, he tugs you a bit closer, adjusts you slightly and you tense all over. Billy found that same spot he had been practically bullying earlier and you gasped, the pair shared a look over your taut body, shared acknowledgement that he'd locked onto it again. Billy didn't falter, he fucked harder all while staring at Stu, who's fingers were dragging down over your back, smudging and smearing more of your blood as your eyes go hazy and unfocused, consumed with feeling and the slow build of another orgasm.

You push back to meet him and in the process cause Stu to press on the still fresh wound, but just like earlier the pain falls more to the background. 

“Look at this brainless mess, she's on autopilot.” Stu laughed and Billy’s breathing sounds more strained as he asked, “Yeah? Looking cock drunk?”

“Not a thought behind her eyes, all she's focused on is cumming on your cock.” His fingers tangled in your hair near your scalp, he tugs, you wince and Stu asks, “Isn’t that right?” 

You are panting, a nod, the only concern is how your blood is singing, the feeling of intense fire under your skin and keeping this whole experience going, getting as much enjoyment from it as you possibly can. 

“Awe, you're speechless! Is his cock that good? That you have no words?” Considering how close he is already getting you just from his thick shaft splitting you wide and annihilating your cunt for a few short minutes? Yes, he is that good. 

“Not gonna lie-” Billy sighed, the sound again sounds so much better from behind that mask, you clench around him, he pauses briefly, grinding deeply into you before resuming fucking in and out, “-wouldn’t say I’m one for getting pussy drunk but fuck man-” He breaks off in a groan and picks up the pace just a little.

“-this feels fucking in-cred-ible, right?” 

You nod again, agreeing with him wholeheartedly, frantic and dumb as you creep closer to the edge, moaning wordlessly, your walls grasping desperately at his shaft telling on how fantastic this is feeling for you, and when you are roughly fifteen seconds from another brain breaking orgasm, Billy pulls out. You begin making sounds of protest, trying to get yourself together to string together some words to complain, but they are already hard at work again. 

“Help me move her.” Hands are on your biceps, pulling you up and you are being repositioned. You are struggling and putting up a bit of a fight again, they are working you into the configuration they want, you seriously wonder if they talked about it prior or if their non-verbal communication is that strong. Here is how it ends up.

Billy is sitting on the edge of the table, you are in his lap, legs spread wide and hooked over his strong thighs, his hands holding your upper arms so firmly you can't get away. Stu gets on his knees briefly to help Billy lube up extra before he assists lining him up again. You feel the slick tip pressed to your asshole and Stu rises, but his eyes stay locked on where you are about to be joined, he watches intently as the grip loosens and gravity aids in helping you impale yourself on Billy. 

Your hands clenched into fists, you groan as he bounces you up and down a few times, gritting out, “C'mon, open up-” until suddenly he slowly slips inside your tightest hole, once the head pops in he joins you, the mixing sound of pleasure from him and effort from you as you take more and more until at the halfway point he starts to bounce you more vigorously. 

“Was worried it might not fit.” Billy breathed out, and you laugh just as breathlessly, “Me too.”

He is thrusting into you very shallowly, making you take more in small increments as Stu is stroking himself to the picture you both made until finally, fucking finally, he is totally buried in you. 

He is merciful enough to let you take a moment to breathe and get accustomed to him fully inside your ass, but it is only a moment. His hands adjust slightly but remain on your arms, he tugs you up with them and buck his hips up from below to fuck up into you, causing you to choke out, “God-” 

It didn't feel bad at all, but it is an intense sensation, he is very girthy, thank God he put so much effort into the prep earlier or that’d be a different story. Stu could only watch Billy for a minute more before he needed to get in on the action, you had your lips on him far too long ago, he is dying to get inside you again. 

In short order Stu is stepping forward and with the combined height of the table and you on Billy's lap it makes your leaking pussy at the perfect level for him to fuck you too. One hand on your hip and he is nearly flush to you, Billy had stopped moving to allow Stu to get inside of you, and you are confronted with just how imposing they both are when you are in this position, pressed between them, white masks with hollow eyes watching your every move.

The hand that isn't on your hip grips the base of his shaft, the tip drags up through your drenched folds only once before he is nudging up against your grasping hole, his hips press forward with no small amount of force and he eases into you with a harsh inhale through his teeth. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

Stu isn't quite as thick as Billy, but he is longer, which makes this position easier, to be honest the excess length is what makes this position possible, period. He manages to get about two thirds into you comfortably, his head tipping forward, his breathing laboured behind the mask as he starts to begin a rhythm in earnest. “You are so, soooo much tighter like this-”

The first thing said tonight that didn't fit the true narrative of the role play but no one complains, you are all rather lost in the weeds at the moment, consumed with lust and the only real God that mattered in this house, that of course being the moment, the now, worshipping at the altar of the flesh. 

“Can feel you so easily.” Stu huffs out to Billy, he grinds his hips, his shaft rubbing against Billy’s through the thin wall separating your two holes.

So you weren’t lying to Stu earlier, your stance on threesomes being very pro, especially after this experience, but the threesomes you engaged in were different; they were usually with another woman, another sugar baby or the partner of some client. Sure you’ve had things in both holes at the same time, however never anything as filling as this, nothing close to having a dick in both your pussy and ass at the same time. Now that Stu has a good handle on working himself in and out of your cunt, Billy starts moving again with a throaty groan, responding to Stu's earlier statement, “Can feel you too, man.”

You have never felt more full or more helpless, you couldn’t do much of anything, truly a pliant fuck doll pulled one way and another, pulled up and dropped back down, thrust and ground into. What bliss, having your holes stretched to the limit and lost in the feelings being forced on your body. 

The two men weren't so much as concerned with fucking in and out in that feverish and devastating way you were experiencing earlier, the kind where they pull out almost completely before slamming back in, the current action could be described as more of a firm grind. You quickly come to realize the rutting movements are just as much them seeking pleasure in each other as they are in you, gaining friction from each other as well as the gripping, well lubed and rippling walls of your holes.

The shared moaning and panting between the pair is getting louder, more intense, the dirty talk is fractured and not flowing in as elegant a manner, no full sentences, just short and degrading praise huffed out before breaking out. 

“-her holes are so fuckin’ hungry-” “-leakin’ like a faucet all over us-” “-just listen to her-” “-think she knows how loud she’s being?”

Shit, were you? Tuning in a bit more, you realize that yes you are moaning loudly and pathetically, helpless to stop it from how it all feels. Instead of feeling embarrassment or shame over this fact, you moan.

You aren't sure cumming from this is possible, it feels fucking incredible, but not necessarily in a way that could build towards an orgasm, it feels too overstimulating for that. Furthermore, you feel a strange mix of limp and tense as together they use you, mind blanking out with every jolt of overwhelming pleasure. You are more than aware this isn’t about you, this is about them, their mutual enjoyment, you are a prop for their fantasy and yet, you don’t feel objectified, or bothered, in fact, you find yourself loving every single moment. It feels good to be part of what they have, be privy to this level of closeness, it feels startlingly intimate. You had no idea how much more intimate it was about to get. 

Stu instigates it, his hand is off your hip and coming up, it pushes the bottom of his mask up, exposing the lower half of his face and he reaches out to do the same to Billy, he catches him off guard, you hear the question of, “What are you doi-”

Which is promptly cut off by Stu jerking forward over your shoulder, his mouth capturing Billy’s in a kiss, your eyes go wide as you look up and to the right to watch the frankly filthy looking tongue kiss the pair is engaged in. Billy doesn’t fight it, he moans into it and fucks into you harder. 

It doesn’t last much longer after that. 

Billy cums first, hips stuttering unevenly, choked sounds of pleasure expressed against Stu’s mouth, you think you can make out a curse or two, but you aren’t sure as he gives a few more shallow thrusts as he milks the last vestiges of his orgasm. You are seated fully in Billy’s lap as his chest heaves, slowly trying to recover, his currently still hard cock plugging your ass enough to keep the cum deep inside, something you sure would no longer be the case when he pulled out. 

Stu on the other hand was chasing his orgasm much more aggressively, now without having to try and contend with Billy’s movements he could fully focus on getting his. Stu’s hand is resting on the back of Billy’s neck, he had broken their kiss, lips an inch from his best friend’s, panting out as he ruts into you, “Fuck, fffuck, M’ so close-”

“Do it, come on, fill her up.” The encouragement seems to be what makes it happen, you feel him still, throbbing, the rush of warm as he shudders from the sheer force of how intense it feels. 

The come down takes a good minute, the only sounds are your collective harsh breathing, but when you all catch up they start to move. First things first, the masks come off, Stu face is revealed to you as he fully removes it, tossing it onto the table near the long discarded knife. He grins down at you, hair looking a little sweaty, cheeks a bit flush but eyes as playfully mischievous as ever, he says a soft, “Hey.”

You laugh softly, returning it, “Hey yourself.” Before you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, he returns it for a moment before you feel still gloved fingers trace your jaw, turning your head. Once he has and you are looking at him, you realize Billy had taken his own mask off, his smile has a soft but still smug quality to it as he also repeats the greeting before kissing you for the first time. 

You melt into it, the realization that Billy had fucked every hole you had, cut you, hurt you, caused you to bleed and cum all before you ever kissed running over your brain like liquid fire. Your body responds automatically, clenching on them both, twin small groans pulled from them both as you squeeze their slowly softening dicks still buried in you. The kiss breaks and Billy asks, “When was the last time you came?”

A small laugh as you admit with a shrug, “Just the once, earlier on your fingers.”

He tsks, “Shit, well that’s no good at all Stu, hmm?” Stu nods in agreement, “Not good at all.”

“What’re we gonna do about that?” He asks with a hum and Stu offers, “How about we get her cleaned up, get all the cum and blood off her and then get her off real slow, comfortably?”

Billy’s nose runs up the side of your neck and you sigh out at the feeling and the thought, being freshly clean and in soft bedsheets as they focus on you, devote themselves to getting you off again hard as fuck, “Sounds good.”

“Yeah? Then that’s what we will do, the least we can do to show our appreciation for how good you did tonight.” Stu kissed your forehead and you ask, “Mmm, yeah, I did good?”

“Oh my God, the best.” Billy gushed, he slowly pulled out of you, causing you to gush in turn, Stu pulled out too and the amount of cum that spilled forth was impressive. They finally untied your hands, you rolled your wrists and open and closed your hands, trying to will the feeling back into them, the robe was used to mop up the cum you leaked out onto the table and floor. The robe was caked in now dried blood, it looked totally wrecked, you doubt it could be cleaned but oh well, the sacrifices we make in the pursuit of kink and pleasure, some casualties are meant to be expected. 

You are way too unsteady on your legs to walk, they are constantly trembling, Stu was carrying you upstairs, Billy carrying the ruined robe, knife and masks as he trailed behind. 

Soon the bath was running, you were sitting in the tub as Billy and Stu got out of their costumes, the Ghostface garb was being stripped away and finally he asked the burning question, “So what did you think? Did it live up to the hype?”

Billy scoffed, a fond roll of his eyes, “Is that why you were so quiet on the way up here? Worried what I would say?” 

Stu brushed him off, “Pfft no. Obviously not.” 

He hummed unconvinced, finished taking off his boots he walked over to Stu who was still unlacing, leaning down he kissed him on the forehead and said, “Stu, it was so fucking amazing it makes me wonder why we waited so long.” 

Stu grinned and pushed his friend’s shoulder playfully, “Shut up, yes you do.” He glanced over his shoulder to you reclining in the tub, enjoying the hot water slowly filling the porcelain, relaxing in your now second bath of the night. He finally admitted that Billy was right, that they needed the right person to make this as good as it was, he admits this by saying simply, “We were waiting on her.”

[mvltisstuff]

this town - e.b

summary: buck tells his kids the story of him and y/n.

evan buckley x reader

a/n: ok so someone left this as a request and i accidentally posted it too early 😭 but i still wanted to do it and i hope they find it :(

buck was sitting on the couch in his and y/n's home, when he heard little footsteps roll down the stairs and sneak up behind him. he was home alone tonight for a bit while y/n was finishing up her shift, which meant he was the one to put them to bed and get them ready. usually, both of them would put them to sleep, so buck was ready for a night of complaints and the kids missing their mother.

"alright guys, it's almost time for bed!" buck turns around to face them.

"but we wanna wait for mom to come home! she's always home when we go to bed!" their oldest complains, and buck is ready for the battle with his 6 year old son.

"i know, buddy. but moms just finishing up at work. she'll be home soon."

"we want you and mama,” their youngest daughter says in small words, being younger than her brother.

"i know, but she'll be home to give you guys a kiss in bed.” he says, rubbing their sons head.

"can we wait for her, please! we don't have school tomorrow either so we can stay up later." buck contemplated whether he should send them to bed, but he was still outnumbered. he knows he should be the one to tell them to go to bed because he is their father, but there is nothing he hates more than the people he loves being sad.

"fine, but i'm not taking the blame when mom is upset you two aren't in bed!" he jokes with them, moving around so they can sit comfortably with him.

“can we have a story, dad?” his smallest asks, snuggled with her head on his stomach and small body between his legs. buck pulls them both in and begins an old story from when they were young, a classic.

cuddled into bucks side, his son says, “cmon dad! can you tell us about you and mama?”

buck smiles, thinking of how to begin such a long story. “alright, alright. well, you know me and mama weren’t always fans of each other right?”

“what?” the boy asks, moving his head up with a shocked expression. “you hated each other?”

“well…” buck and y/n have always taught their kids not to say hate, as it can be such a strong word, but there really isn’t another word for how their relationship started. “i wouldn’t say hate. it was… rocky.”

after another week of having to be rivals at their station, fighting to keep their spot at the 118. having another dinner together, when y/n walked in, buck rolled his eyes and sighed. even when they were assigned together, he couldn’t help but complain. they were both good. and they couldn’t stand that about each other. they didn’t want to waste any time getting to know each other when they could fight instead. their egos were too big.

they started to think bobby put them together on purpose, “y/l/n, buck, are we gonna have a problem? you guys cannot tolerate each other and if you can’t learn to fix that then we will have one.” they sat in his office after being called in. they didn’t really know how to response, not being able to let up their stubbornness.

“sorry, cap. but don’t look at me.” buck says.

“really, buck? this is exactly why you are exhausting to be around.” y/n says, staring at the wall instead of at him.

“guys, stop. fix this, now. get a grip, and focus on work before i consider other measures.”

“then how did you get married if you hated each other?” their little girl asks.

“well, you wanna know what mama did next?” he asks them back.

“what did she do, dad?” the boy asks.

“your mom,” he presses his finger against his chest. “saved my life.”

“y/l/n, we have no response from buckley during head count,” bobby tells her.

“what? is he still in there?” she says, pointing at the hall building that was seconds from falling. bobby nods painfully, and y/n pulls on her helmet again.

“y/n? you can’t do back in there, we got a direct evacuation order…” bobby says with heartbreak at the closest thing he still has to a son.

“sorry, but he would break an order for any of us, cap.” y/n says, running back into the burning building that could be layered on top of buck right now.

“so if she didn’t find you, what would’ve happened?” buck doesn’t want to answer that question, because she is the reason he is alive. he would be dead without her.

“i don’t know, pal. but she is the reason i have you and everything i have.”

“so you stopped hating her?”

“i realized that we never really hated each other, we were just too much alike so i couldn’t handle someone with as much passion as i did,” buck says. “which is why we tell you kids to never say you hate someone, because you never know what could happen. but me and your mom, i had no idea what to say after. i owed her everything. she helped me all the time after that, so we got a lot closer and we learned to love each other for who we are.”

back to the world outside of his hospital room, finally, the team threw buck a huge party. y/n had driven him over, still having to help him with small tasks. his hand had gripped onto hers, still being prepared for the worst after that had happened to him. when he walked in, everyone was there. karen and hen, chim and maddie, athena and her family, eddie and christopher with carla. buck felt extreme amounts of overwhelming love, before he even realized that she had put this together for him.

as the party went on, and they went their separate ways to talk to different people around them, buck had finally found her again. even thought he was fighting to get back to work, he still got tired at the end of the night.

“hey, you having fun? feeling ok? do you need me to grab anything for you or ar-“ buck cuts her words off and pulls her in. he leaves a kiss on her lips, as a way to thank her without having to figure out the words yet. he didn’t actually have to, as they came spilling out seconds later.

“i love you, y/n. i truly don’t know how to repay you for any of this. you rescued me, i cant thank you enough, y/n. i’m so sorry, i put you through hell and you could’ve left me there-“

“i would never be able to live with myself if anything happened to you, buck. i love you, too.”

“we got married a few years later, and then you,” he nudges his son. “came along. and then you did, too. you two have no clue how happy everyone was when you arrived.”

“i’m glad mama saved you, dad.” his son says, still leaning into his side with tiredness forming in his words. his daughter was already asleep, knocked out in his lap.

“me too, kid. me too,” buck reminisces on all their memories together, finding out she was pregnant and when he proposed, and even the bad moments when they fought over dumb stuff. after a while of telling their son more miscellaneous stories about him and y/n, they both eventually dozed off into a sweet sleep.

y/n got home about 15 minutes after they had fallen asleep on the couch, and a grin grew on her face as she saw her kids both slumped on the couch over her husband. she walks over, not being able to remove the smile. she runs her hand over bucks hair, and his eyes flutter awake.

“hey, how were they? i see they didn’t want to go to bed,” she says.

“oh, you know. wanted to wait for you so i told them a story.”

“wow,” she looks at her son and daughter passed out over their dad. “must’ve been a good one then.”

“oh, you wouldn’t believe it.” buck smiles back up at her as they wake up their sleeping children. after tucking them in with their goodnight kisses, they make their way to end the night together as they always dreamed, even at that station years ago.

[stardustbuck]

im a multishipper. i ship buddie and bucktommy. but if im being honest one side is being incredibly more hateful and toxic than the other side. (aka the one thats been around longer) maybe i’ve taken off my rose-colored shipping glasses, but seeing ppl make hate posts abt tommy/lou gives me the ick. it makes me actually realize why oliver left twt. bitterness will get you nowhere. if buddie is meant to happen then it’ll happen. you cannot force it to happen. everything i’ve seen and read tells me buddie was more of a consideration pre-s5 than it is currently. and that fucking sucks but just because things aren’t going your way doesn’t mean you need to get on the internet and be a bully. it’s truly mind-boggling to see people so intense in their hate for a character that has righted his wrongs, who is now friends with the people he wronged, is well-liked among said characters and is now being a positive influence on buck’s newfound sexuality. their dynamic is also nothing new, pessimist/optimist ship dynamics have been around forever and it’s only a problem because it’s not eddie.

i would be happy for buddie to go canon as much as the next guy. getting buck canonically bisexual is mind-blowing enough in itself, i’m glad we’re witnessing it at all. if ryan doesn’t want to do buddie because he feels its important they stay friends then so be it. platonic friendships between a queer man and straight man are important, especially one that runs so deep like buck and eddie’s. sure, their friendship could be read as romantic throughout the show, but partly because oliver and ryan truly share a great chemistry on screen which helps lean into it but also because these shows are not written with an endgame in mind. 9-1-1 is very much a go with the flow show, and if bucktommy is where the show is flowing then that’s what is meant to be. invisible string theory isn’t because ppl think it was always planned from the beginning, it’s because it’s amazing how well buck and tommy becoming a couple comes together so perfectly out of pure coincidence.

we know buck was supposed to be made queer long ago. we also know maddie originally was brought in for eddie but was put with chimney instead. if tim minear hadn’t left after s4 i truly think buddie could have been already established by now, but unfortunately that isn’t how things work. perhaps the idea of tommy and eddie was pitched but ultimately ryan didn’t agree it would work for these character nor the story being told at the time. buck was already supposed to be queer, so turning it to tommy and buck instead makes total sense.

no one is saying you aren’t allowed to continue to ship buddie. most ships in the world are ships that have never gone canon. buddie is valid even if it’s non-canon. god knows i will continue to read and write for them and enjoy them whilst also enjoying buck and tommy together. the behavior i’ve been seeing though is just weird, especially from larger creators who i understand are very passionate for buddie, but it’s weird when you flip it into tommy/lou hate instead of just talking about buddie itself.

perhaps the theories will be true. we don’t know! maybe buck and tommy won’t last and buddie will be endgame. i’m happy either way because buck’s sexuality is so important for him and at the current state of the show eddie is absolutely not ready for anything romantic because he’s still grieving shannon to a point where he is not ready to move on romantically just yet and we’re literally shown this. even if buddie is happening, it is not happening by the season finale nor is it probably happening by the beginning of s8 considering the current storylines and where they’ll be at by the end of this season. lou probably isn’t going anywhere and from the looks of it, we’ll probably be bumped up into a semi-regular character in s8 like karen. he’s easy to write into the plot, he’s got connections to people and emergencies outside of buck that would integrate him well into the plot. their romance is supposed to be “romcom” esque, they’re taking things slow but they’re obviously happy together at the moment.

im just really tired of the nasty attitudes ive been seeing. sure theres are som toxic people on both sides, but to me its obvious which side is being the bigger bully. reality checks needs to be put in place for some people, go outside and realize you are getting way too worked up over a tv show where plotlines are out of your control. if the show is ruined for you over one relationship then stop watching it.

[gayhoediaz]

this is something i’ve been well aware of for a long time, but with the current storyline going on, it’s something i’ve been thinking about a lot more lately. i’ve been trying to put it into words for a while now, and i think i finally got it.

i think the reason why some people tend to (mis)characterize eddie as being a man of few words is because they pick up on something that is there, however i don’t think they quite know what to make of it, or how to interpret it or fit it into the puzzle of eddie as a human being.

the thing is that typically “a man of few words” is used to describe people who prefer not to talk, or perhaps are uncomfortable doing so, or don’t know how best to translate their thoughts. shy, even.

this is not who eddie is. we have seen that time and time again. he’s not a shy or quiet guy.

however. when it comes to significant, emotional moments - talking is not his first choice. ever.

but that’s not because he doesn’t know how to, or because he’s uncomfortable - aka a man of few words.

a great example is the tsunami arc. he knows buck is struggling, but he doesn’t sit down to have some emotional heart-to-heart with him. he simply drags buck out of bed - and in fact, even post tsunami, talking isn’t even his first choice. he just grabs christopher and goes over. he doesn’t talk until he can tell that buck really needs it.

and what do we get? we get this BANGER of a line.

eddie is not a man of few words. he has so many words - he simply saves them for the moment when he knows they will have the strongest impact.

in fact, you know what? this goes back all the way to 2x01:

for a long time (i think most of us assume at least a handful of shifts) he just lets buck do his thing. he doesn’t use his words until he feels they’re needed. whether that be to comfort, or to confront - we never really see him waste them.

which brings me to the current storyline. because while eddie has grown and developed since seasons two and three, this integral part of him has stayed the same - because he’s doing the same thing all over again. which is how know we are in for it.

we have all talked so much about eddie’s patience in 6x12, especially in contrast to the parade of people knocking on buck’s door. and we have talked about the kitchen conversation - which i fully believe was merely a taste of what’s coming later on.

but even following that conversation, eddie is still doing the same thing.

he’s talking, yes. one could even call him a bitch (affectionate).

but he’s not talking, because he knows that’s not what buck needs right now. not yet.

instead he takes him out to a poker game which is also (likely) a support group of near death survivors.

he’s trying to get buck to talk, yes - but eddie is not talking. he is merely holding a carrot on a stick, allowing buck (in these particular instances) to decide when he’s ready - ready to talk, or ready to hear eddie talk, whichever it ends up being.

it’s such an important detail to his character, and i think it’s a disservice to eddie, ryan, and the writers to wave his intricately crafted emotional intelligence off as being a man of few words.

my man has so many words. he just saves them for when he needs them.

[desertpersephone]

el paso, between the crickets and the moon | 5k | gen | post s7, getting together, angst about eddie's childhood because he's staying over in his childhood home

a/n: written as part of the @911fanworksfestival for @p-trichor . I hope you enjoy!

Eddie's not sure if Chris is actually ready to come home, or if the prospect of staying longer and starting Catholic school in El Paso was the thing that got him to call his dad. But frankly, Eddie doesn't really care, doesn’t try to question it too much, because it means Chris is talking to him and is going to be home again. And that means that Eddie can make it up to him, explain some things, and show him how sorry he is. Show him that he's still a good dad. Or at least that he’s always trying to be a good dad, a better dad. And the thought of Chris putting on the same uniform Eddie had years before, with the little blue and white shield embroidered stiffly on the chest, forced to attend Wednesday Mass, taught abstinence only — which is a whole other thing to be anxious about but, regardless, Eddie isn’t going to let his kid get taught sex ed like that — is enough to make Eddie want to rescue Christipher even if it's against his son’s will. But being in El Paso is weird. Eddie hasn't been back since his dad's retirement party, and it's just weird. It's weird because he's apparently expected to stay the weekend while Chris finishes packing — except all he brought with him had been a backpack and everything that Eddie’s parents had bought him was basically just a double of something in L.A., so Eddie isn't really sure what he’s going to pack — and it's weird because he can feel his mom's gaze fixed on his back every second of the trip since the moment he and Buck touched down in the airport. It’s like she’s constantly on the lookout for some reason to keep Chris there, like she’s expecting Eddie to snap and pull out a Shannon wig of his own. Like he’s going to pull out a Shannon wig and plop it onto Buck. Which is a whole other thing, Buck being here. Because Buck is always here and he didn't even hesitate when Eddie said “I bought two tickets”. Because they’re always together and because Eddie knew he would need the moral support while dealing with his parents. That's why he brought Buck. Buck always has his back.

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