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Listen, I know, you all have been seeing fundraiser posts all day long. I've seen people complain that the tags for Palestine are "unusable" now because… genocide victims use it to find aid to survive.
Thing is, those posts will be here until Israel ceases it's aggression. And Palestinians will need your aid as far as they are left with no income and besieged. I've tried reaching out to other platforms, and Tumblr is still the best place for at least Falastin (Gazan who I spotlight for more than 2 months) to get donations; because here you don't need thousands of followers to get interactions. And at least we get one in ten response here; on other platforms both of us don't get any.
So yes, a dying website for fandom is her best bet to save her family right now. We don't speak of evacuation anymore (even though we hope for it), this is a battle for day-to-day survival. The prices in Gaza are increasing every hour, and they have no income and Falastin has gone into multiple debts to help them before starting the campaign in June. And yes, she receives more attention now but her family is still in starvation - she tries to support 26 people now, since her cousin was martyred and his 2 children joined 24 of her family in Al-Mawasy.
Yes, they should get free aid from all those countless non-profits that raise millions. But if they see something labelled as "aid" it is because they have bought it themselves. Yes, you can see (and maybe touch!) aid if you subject yourself to hours-long queues and/or humiliation of being a part of a photoshoot. They also said that the aid they get is stale at best and spoiled at worst; and that's again, if they get it.
Yes, there are grassroots organizations but they cannot reach everyone, because they are in small teams and they don't receive a lot of funds. And you can of course donate to them to try "fix" this; but please do not think that it means individual fundraisers are not worth supporting. I did not see any evidence of individual fundraisers "taking" money from others; on the contrary, when Falastin's fundraiser struggles, I see others struggle too. When we celebrate a good day of donations we celebrate it with others too.
And I could talk about Harris campaign get 1 billion in donations and still receiving them or how AO3 got 200k in a couple of days; but the post is getting too long.
Anyway. Please consider donating to Falastin's campaign; the money would buy food and water first, shelter and clothes for the winter second. There's a raffle for hand-made Palestinian thobe that Falastin's friend makes (LINK); and please follow her here.
Donate via Gofundme (in SEK! check rates below please): LINK
10$ = 108 SEK
25$ = 272 SEK
50$ = 544 SEK
100$ = 1,088 SEK
Donate via PayPal (in USD): LINK
Vetting info: #282 in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [here], #957 in the Butterfly Project spreadsheet [here]
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𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Sweetheart' ༄࿔ B.C. & Y.J.
⤷ Spit Roasting | Brat Taming | Manhandling
♱ word count: ~4k (i dont wanna talk about it.)
♱ warnings: *inhales* fem!reader, threesome, frat leader! Chan and frat boy! Jeongin, reader is a teeny bit of a brat, brat taming, some fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex, light system mentioned but not used, spit roasting/eiffel towering, manhandling, mention of deepthroating, 2 "good girl"s, choking, impact play (1 face slap and like 1 spank), big cock channie AND soft-hard dom channie? (hard to explain but act surprised.), squirting, mention of sharing with other members of the frat (its only the rest of skz in the frat but specifically mean dom minho is named), jeongin films you with his phone and says hes gonna send it to the frat groupchat lol… i think thats it? Idk this was a fever dream
♱ notes: pov: sian getting carried away when she enjoys writing something. also the urge to make this a series is so strong...
mostly proofread, but may be some mistakes/inconsistencies
Kinktober Schedule
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
“Y/N… Can you uh…” Jeongin clears his throat and rubs his face with both hands as if trying to keep his composure. “Can I have a cup of water?” You smile and nod, standing on your feet and walking out of your room to get him some water. Once you closed the door behind you, after telling them you’d bring some snacks too, Jeongin looked over to his friend desperately.
“Hyung. I am… not your strongest soldier.” The comment in itself was enough to make Chan burst out laughing, but he tried not to grab too much attention so he chose to snicker into his arm instead.
“Breathe man.” Chan laughed and leaned back on his arms, stretching and taking some breaths himself. “I’m not fairing that well either haha… I don’t think she even realizes what she’s doing.”
The most popular frat’s leader, Chan, and his youngest junior, Jeongin, are in your bedroom. And you, unfortunately, had agreed to tutor them after one long day in the library. They had the other 6 members with them and you were particularly stressed from preparing for a final later that day, so you arguably weren’t very clear-minded when you agreed to it.
Nonetheless, you kept your word and, after exchanging numbers with Chan, you sent them your address as well as a list of what days and times were best. It surprisingly wasn’t hard to find a time that worked for all three of you, and the study date was quickly decided. When the day came and you got a knock on your door and you opened it still in your pajamas, both sides were shocked at what they saw.
They had never seen any skin other than your arms, and sometimes your legs on the rare occasion that you wore a skirt. So when they were met with you in a crop top tank top and short shorts, they felt something awaken in them. Jeongin even more so, considering he had a secret little crush on you that only his frat knew about.
And you were surprised because you had completely forgotten that you agreed to tutor them. But considering they had already seen your outfit, you hadn’t bothered to change out of it. Which ultimately led to your current situation: your notebooks and their textbooks spread across your floor alongside them, with their painful bulges hidden underneath their hoodies.
You return only 15 minutes later with 4 bottles of water and a big plate of bagel bites. Both men drop everything instantly and lunge for the plate, taking it from you to “help” you carry everything, but in reality just so they can demolish the food. You smile and shake your head endearingly, a little too entertained by the childish action.
Through their fiending, Chan still offers you the plate many times and makes sure they leave enough for you to eat as well. Then, once both are satisfied and calmed down a little bit, they allow you to continue the lesson. Everything goes well for another 30 minutes until a slip-up happens with your wardrobe.
Chan notices first, and he feels his fingers twitching when you lean forward to point out something to Jeongin. You slightly lean over him in the process and the hand to hold yourself up rests right beside his thigh. The size difference between his thigh and your hand is enough to make his mind wander, but then he watches very closely as the strap of your tank top slowly falls down your shoulder from the new position.
Jeongin himself feels his own composure completely break at his sight. You leaning close to his face was enough to get him flustered, but the sight of your tank top strap slowly falling makes his cock twitch. Then, as if to add insult to injury, you shift just the slightest amount and your tank top loosens around your torso until it now hovers below your chest, giving him a good view of your tits, and a very slight view of your nipple.
Jeongin’s breath catches in his throat and he snaps his head to his eldest brother. “Hyung..” You hear it and look up at them curiously. The redness in their faces gives away that something happened, but it doesn’t hit you until Chan calls your name breathlessly and tugs at your fallen strap. Both men look at you with dark eyes and you feel your heart skip a beat when you realize that you just flashed 2 members of the most popular frat in the fucking state.
“Uh… Sorry… I didn’t realize-” You quickly fix your posture and your strap, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to hide it from them. Chan chuckles and looks you up and down, making your face flush even harder.
“It’s ok, baby. But I think we’ve done enough studying today. I think you should help us with something else now.” He leans forward and grabs your arms, tearing them away from your chest and helping you to your feet. He leads you to the bed, leaving Jeongin in awe on the floor left to do nothing but watch the situation unfold.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N-nie…” He starts once he softly pushes you to sit down. He brings one of his veiny hands to your cheek, rubbing his thumb against it soothingly as he talks, “You’ve helped us so much already, but there’s one more thing we both need from you if that’s ok?” His gaze is strong but comforting as he checks for consent, and you find yourself nodding quietly despite the butterflies in your stomach.
Jeongin rises to his feet eagerly, taking a seat next to you and immediately leaning into you, resting his hand on your lower back. He leans into your neck and breathes in the scent of your body wash, sighing into your ear at the way it makes his cock twitch. Chan laughs and uses the hand on your cheek to lean your head to the side for the younger man.
“Help us and we’ll help you, okay baby?” You nod and look up at him under your lashes, moaning quietly from the lips that latch themselves on your neck. “You gotta tell us what you like and don’t like though, yeah?”
“Mkay…” Your eyes flutter shut and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Jeongin bites down on your neck, his other hand now resting on your inner thigh and squeezing it.
“Can we be rough with you?” You nod. “Haha… Yeah? Can we smack you around a little too?” Your eyes snap open and you nod eagerly when your eyes meet. He smirks and bites his lip, the hand on your cheek sneaking its thumb into your mouth. He opens his mouth to tell you to suck but moans quietly when you do it on your own.
“Good girl…” His eyes flicker down to Jeongin, and the smile on his face widens when he asks the next question. “Wanna get Eiffel Towered? Jeonginnie here is a bit eager with it, he might fuck you silly, but I’m a little too big for you to take this soon. Don’t wanna hurt you just yet.” He winks at the last sentence and pushes his thumb against your tongue.
When you nod, his body visibly bristles and he removes his finger in favor of tugging at the hem of your shorts, silently asking if he can take them off. You don’t bother replying and just lift your hips, just enough for him to pull them off along with your panties. You gasp when Jeongin’s hand immediately returns to your thigh, this time kneading the fat just an inch or two from where you need them the most.
Chan takes a seat opposite of Jeongin, on the other side of you, and rests his hand on the inner thigh of your other leg. He pulls it apart from the one Jeongin was squeezing and the younger man, despite being distracted with your neck, catches on and spreads you open.
You’re exposed to them both and, for the first time since he sat down, Jeongin releases your neck to take in the sight of your pussy. He sighs to himself and rests his forehead against your temple as he finally trails his fingers higher, ghosting them through your wet folds.
Your legs kick and Chan tightens his grip on your leg when Jeongin immediately sinks two long fingers into your hole, curling them off the bat and overwhelming you in all the right ways. Chan’s hand hooks your leg over his lap and moves to roughly play with your clit as Jeongin starts fingering you. He even leans down, craning his neck to land kisses all over your chest.
He lets up on your clit for just a second so he can tug your tank top under both of your tits, giving him better access. Then, he goes back to rubbing rough circles as his mouth ventures lower to your nipple. Your jaw drops and you lean back on your hands as you let them play with you freely, thoroughly enjoying all the attention.
Your moans are quiet and shaky, egging them on further as they work your body towards an orgasm. Chan is busy harshly sucking your left nipple as Jeongin speaks up for the first time in a while, his breath fanning your neck and making you shiver.
“You look so hot… Does this feel good, honey?” He curls his fingers up, digging his fingertips on the very edge of your g-spot.
“Jeongin… up more please-“ You whine and look at him desperately. He listens and shoves his fingers deeper, now angling them perfectly into your g-spot. You respond by furrowing your eyebrows and throwing your head back with a loud moan.
“Haha. There?”
“Uh-huh…” Chan laughs at your response and removes his fingers from your clit, nudging Jeongin away at the same time. You whine at the loss and fix your neck to look between them. “W-Why?”
Chan doesn’t answer and pulls you to your feet, yanking your tank top over your head. He places a kiss on each of your tits before kissing his way up to your neck, then stopping at your lips where he pushes his onto yours. You start to wrap your hands around his neck only to be spun around and held in place by Jeongin.
Jeongin pulls you into him and bites down on the opposite side of your neck that he had marked earlier as you faintly hear Chan undressing behind you. It’s only then that you notice the hardness pushing against your thigh and the bareness of the man in front of you. You wrap your hand around his dick and stroke him eagerly while he sucks more hickies into your skin.
Once Chan undresses fully, he crawls up your bed and rests on his knees near your pillows. Jeongin glances over at the older man and reluctantly pulls away, turning you back around and shoving you onto your hands and knees on your bed.
You grunt at the roughness but are given no time to react further as Chan drags you up the bed. You come face to face with his cock; hard, veiny, and an angry red. Your jaw drops and you look up at him to see a smirk plastered on his face. Yeah… you need him in you.
“Told you I was big, baby girl.” You whine and wrap your hand around him, placing a kiss on his tip as you revel in the sheer weight of him. “‘M not trying to break you today. Maybe next time, yeah?” You nod and his thumb pulls at your bottom lip. He doesn’t need to say anything else because you obey his command before it even leaves his lips.
Your lips wrap around him as the bed dips behind you, but you’re too enamored by his cock to pay the other man any mind. Chan moans loudly and tangles his fingers in your hair as Jeongin, now kneeling behind you, slides his tip through your folds a few times. “Ready?” He huffs out impatiently, but not wanting to force anything. He gets what he wants as soon as the question leaves his mouth because you push your hips back and grind against him.
The action causes his tip to slip into you for a split second and it’s all it takes for him to lose his composure. He curses and digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as he shoves his entire length into you at once. You moan around Chan, making him also moan out at the vibrations of your throat. The hand in your hair tightens as Jeongin finds a frantic pace that also fucks you onto Chan’s cock simultaneously.
It's almost brutal the way Jeongin’s hips slam against yours. Even his balls find a way to smack against your folds and it brings your orgasm even closer than before. Your body is still wound up from them playing with your pussy, and you can’t control the constant clenching it provides to the younger of the two. He moans loudly and his hips stutter at a particularly tight hold from you.
“Shit. You’re clenching me like crazy, honey. Gonna cum already?” Your hand tightens around Chan’s base and you moan around him, nodding as best as you can with him half down your throat.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
Your eyes snap up to meet Chan’s and he stares back sternly, eyes narrowing. A whine leaves your throat subconsciously and he immediately shakes his head, standing his ground. The hand in your hair loosens slightly as you pull off of him, and you have to plead through your moans to get your point across.
“Please! I can’t hold it…” His hand leaves your hair completely and grabs onto your chin instead, roughly pulling you up to sit upright.
“I said no, so you’re not allowed to cum yet.”
He squeezes your cheeks and holds you in place as Jeongin’s thrusts speed up. He’s desperate to chase his own orgasm, and he doesn’t spare a thought to your struggle. He’s fucking into you so fast that your eyes flutter open and closed almost constantly. Chan’s eyes stay on your face the whole time, and the second he sees you go slack-jawed, he growls.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” The eager cock constantly pummeling your insides was too much, especially at this new angle, but the sheer anger in his voice made some sick part of you happy, inadvertently cursing you to cum. Quiet grunts follow loud moans as you cum, and Jeongin fucks you through it, using your tightness to milk himself dry.
Chan allowed Jeongin to use you to ride out his orgasm up until the second he pulled out. Then he snatched you from under him and flipped you onto your back under himself. Jeongin laughed somewhere behind you at the aggressiveness and you swore you could hear your heart beating out your ass.
“Something tells me you know about the light system.”
Chan’s face was painted with anger, and you could feel that anger seep into the way he slapped his cock onto your used folds. You stayed quiet, a part of you wondering how far you could push him, and you got the reaction you wanted when his hand came down on your thigh when you still didn’t answer. You gasp and clench around nothing. Then, he waits only a few more seconds until you nod your head repeatedly, giving him the answer he wanted. You try to rise slightly to rest on your elbows, but Chan shoves you backward with a tsk.
“Good. Use it, yeah?”
He sinks himself into you before he can finish his own sentence, and you both hiss at the intrusion. He’s definitely bigger than Jeongin, maybe just as long, but the girth of him is enough to have your head spinning already. Your nails dig into the sheets as he shoves inch by inch into you, not slow enough to let you stretch properly, but slow enough to make you grow impatient. He’s not even bottomed out all the way before he’s stopping. Part of you is thankful because you can already feel him in your stomach, but the other side of you wants it all.
“Baby. Give it a second.” You whine and thrash your head around, doing everything in your power to push yourself back onto him. Chan sighs annoyedly and digs his fingertips into your hips to hold you still. Before he has to move another muscle the bed dips and a set of long fingers tightly squeeze your throat.
“Play nice for Channie, Y/N. It’s one thing to piss him off, but it’s another to piss us both off.” Jeongin leans down to whisper in your ear, but Chan still catches onto it. He also catches onto the way your walls flutter around his cock at the implication, and he realizes what the two of them have gotten into.
“Who would’ve thought the school’s resident good girl is a fucking brat.” He chuckles and talks under his breath. Jeongin snickers to himself and backs his face away to watch Chan plant his hands on either side of your waist in order to lean forward.
“Aren’t I right? Your little pussy really liked the thought of pissing us both off.”
Your lips turn into a fine line and you look at him incredulously, lips slightly downturned. Then, as if to dig your own grave, your gaze drops from him and you stare off to the right. He follows your gaze curiously and he can feel the vein in his forehead pop out when you find more interest in your ceiling fan. His tongue pokes into his cheek and he digs his hands farther into your mattress.
“Yeah, nah. That’s fine.” His hips reel back and slam forward again, this time forcing the rest of his length into you. Your demeanor falters and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to try and keep quiet. You’re bad at hiding it though, and the way your eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper with each thrust gives you away. Both men laugh at the sight of you struggling to stay defiant, and Jeongin finally loosens his hold on your neck in favor of sneaking that hand down to pinch your nipple.
Chan’s hips are bruising, more so than Jeongin’s, as he doesn’t hesitate to hold back. Now that he has a better idea of what you like, he’s not afraid to give you everything. His movements prove that further as he pulls out almost all the way just to sink in fully, and repeating the action constantly all while going fast enough to render you brainless.
When that stubbornness finally gives out and your gaze falls between your legs, your whole body shakes at the sight of his thick cock entering your body. Your eyes slowly trail up, taking in the sweat dripping from his stomach and then the redness that has taken over his chest and his neck. Your eyes finally reach his and he smiles at you sinisterly. “You done?” He tilts his head playfully and rolls his hips deeply, making your eyes squeeze closed for a moment.
“Ff… Fuck you.”
His hips come to a stop and you swear you can see his lips twitch.
“Yeah…?” It comes out quiet and alongside a breathy, in disbelief, laugh. Your lips part to say another snarky comment and his hand comes down on your cheek, rendering you speechless. Your body tenses up and you clench tightly around him. He definitely didn’t miss the way you moaned at it either.
“C’mon, pretty. Be good for me.” His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes it tightly, cutting off some of your airflow. It makes your head spin, especially when his hips start moving again. He’s trying to convince you to play nice before he forces you to. But he realizes real quick that it just isn’t working. And you, instead, just furrow your eyebrows and dig your nails into the forearm of the hand that’s choking you. He grunts and releases your neck, this time wrapping both his hands around the underside of your knees. He pushes them up until you’re folded in half and your knees are by your ears.
“Ah! C-Chan!”
“That’s right, baby. Say my name~” Jeongin sits up on his knees and replaces Chan’s hands with his own, using some of his own body weight to hold your legs down. Now that he’s able to use his hands freely, Chan uses the thumb on one of his hands to spread your pussy lips open for him, giving him a better view of his cock splitting you open.
“Shit! Wait you’re- mmmmfuck! You’re too deep, Chan!” Your hands push against his stomach to try and push him out, but he shoves your hands away with his other hand. That same hand comes down on the side of your ass, making Chan sigh dreamily as your walls squeeze him so snuggly.
“This pretty pussy fits me so well baby. Want me to cum inside and make you ours? ‘Wanna be our frat’s pretty little sweetheart?” He moans loudly at the thought, and then once again when you nod and look up at him with teary eyes. Jeongin himself smirks at the thought and hovers his face over yours.
“That bratty little attitude of yours will get fucked out the window, honey. We got a looot of meanies over there. Minho-hyung will have a lot of fun with you.” Your eyes squeeze shut, already knowing who Minho was and hearing stories about how he was in bed. Most girls agree on the same two words: animalistic and straight-up mean.
“I should film Channie-hyung fucking you like this and send it to the group chat. Maybe even tell them we got ourselves a little toy. What do you think, hyung?” You hear the ding of his phone starting a recording and you’re cumming before you realize it; gushing around Chan and causing loud squelching noises to fill the room.
Chan laughs with his chest and his whole body shakes as he cums, his hands squeezing the flesh of your hips as he bottoms out one final time to cum deep inside. He doesn’t need to fuck you through his orgasm thanks to the way your walls continue to clench around him, almost suffocating him with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
You squeal when he finally slides out of you, every vein on his cock making you even more overly sensitive. Jeongin giggles and slides next to you on the bed, pulling you into his chest and running his hands down your back. Chan leans forward and places a kiss on your temple before swiftly leaving the room, stating he’s just going to get a washcloth to clean you off.
“You okay?” Jeongin kisses your neck softly and trails his kisses to the corner of your mouth. You hum and let your eyes become lidded, heavy with exhaustion. He can see it in your face and he coos, “You can sleep. Channie and I will take care of everything.” He smiles sweetly and tucks your hair behind your head, trying to wipe some of the sweat off your forehead too.
You hadn’t planned on any of this happening, but his fingers ghosting along your arms and all over your back are all too convincing as they urge your eyes to close. In seconds, you’re falling asleep to the feeling of Jeongin caressing your body and his lips repeatedly pushing against your cheek.
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#sian’s writing#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#bang chan smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan x reader smut#bang chan imagines#chan smut#chan x reader#chan x reader smut#chan imagines#skz x reader#skz x reader smut#jeongin x reader#jeongin smut#jeongin imagines#yang jeongin x reader#yang jeongin smut#yang jeongin imagines#i.n x reader#i.n smut#i.n imagines#sian’s 2024 kinktober <3
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Saw the post of you asking if we had any tropes or ideas we wanted to see u talk abt and jumped for joy 🙏 … must ask . Do u have any thoughts on ghost finding out reader is pregnant 😋😋
I like to think Ghost starts having suspicions before you do
Wrapped around each other’s bodies, limbs tangled in the sheets as you sleep peacefully with your other half by your side, he’s never not holding at least one of your boobs in his warm calloused palms. You start to wake up with complaints about how sore they are however, his hands in complete agreement with his eyes; your tits have gotten bigger.
And though he hates to see how uncomfortable they have you feeling all of a sudden, and how you whine so cutely about how you need new bras, your cleavage spilling out of your cups, he’s finding it rather difficult not to appreciate the new view.
Next though, he’s noticing how strange it is that foods you usually loved, now have you crinkling your nose up in disgust, turning your face away from the smell, or worse, that one time you ran to the bathroom to spill the contents of your stomach, utterly repulsed by a certain odor.
But he forgets that you haven’t requested Chinese food in nearly a month when instead he’s trying to wrap his mind around how you want peanut butter and jelly on a cheeseburger.
He certainly doesn’t think twice about how you’re just tad bit friskier than usual, pinching his ass and trying to jump his bones more often. There’s never been a lack of intimacy or wanting the other in your relationship, but you seem nearly insatiable recently, using and abusing his fingers, his mouth, his dick, multiple times a day. There are no complaints on his end, your man always being borderline desperate for you.
It’s when he’s been away for work for the last two weeks and he’s walking back into the house and he sees you, that his eyes cannot deny the way you’re simply glowing. Radiating effortless beauty in a way he’s never seen before, which is saying a lot considering you knock the breath out of him every time he’s lucky enough to see even just your shadow.
You look so soft, so sweet, so perfectly his.
He’s searching for a cloth to warm up under the faucet, preparing to clean up the mess he’s just made of you in bed over the last few hours, when his eyes land on the unopened box of tampons under the bathroom sink. His mind starts quickly doing the math, believing that in theory you should have had to open this pack by now, when things begin to click for him.
Laying naked on your back atop the messy sheets, still catching your breath and coming back down to earth after the many times Simon brought you to bliss tonight, you’re admittedly confused when he comes back into the bedroom without the towel he said he was going to get. You’re even more caught off guard when he approaches you and lays two hands on the sides of your stomach, face approaching your abdomen with an expression of concentration on his face.
“Si what are you-”
“Love, I think you’re pregnant.”
He’s lucky you’ve been having the same suspicion for a few days now, waiting for him to take an actual test and find out, otherwise you might be smacking him upside the head right about now.
Once you do take the test however and confirm what he already felt sure of, that he had put a baby in you, he’s asking you why it isn’t appropriate to tape it to the living room wall for everyone to see, elated to share the news with those in your lives, meanwhile you’ve just decided he won’t be helping decorate the nursery, beyond building furniture.
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#cod simon ghost riley#ghost fanfic#call of duty ghost#ghost cod#cod simon riley#simon ghost riley x you#simon fluff#asks#anon ask
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saw your post and comment about heehoon getting off together bc they both want yn…that is so hot I want to read that. Please
I want to read that too 😋 I would love to write more of this type of content so please let me know if you’d read it!
warnings: heehoon jerk off together, mentions of wanting to fuck reader and suck on her tits and pussy, mentions of dry humping, blowjob mention, exchange of fantasies, subtle mxm context (they sit next to each other on the couch and watch each other jerk off), mentions of a sex toy, implied share use of a toy at the end.
send in your hard thoughts x
-
“Dude, are you hard?!”
Heeseung looks over to his friend who sits beside him on the couch in nothing but sweatpants and a flimsy t-shirt. The two of them have sat in silence for the past few minutes or so after their friends left their apartment with you in tow, giving them each a hug goodbye as Jay and Jake undoubtedly drove you back to your apartment.
Still, your perfume lingers in the air. It smells somewhere between vanilla and peaches.
The TV has something playing in the background but neither of them can say they’ve been paying much attention to it. Sunghoon’s been scrolling on Instagram for the past few minutes when Heeseung happened to look over at him to ask what he wanted to watch when he saw the slight tent in his roommate’s pants.
Sunghoon looks up, unashamed. He turns his phone towards the elder. “Can you blame me? Look at her?”
Heeseung squints and sees your profile. “Have you been hard this entire time?”
“Since she walked in. Don’t tell me you don’t feel that way either. I always see you looking at her ass when she walks in front of you.”
Heeseung blushes for a moment. “I can’t help it. Her ass is phenomenal and she always wears those short shorts when she comes over.” Sunghoon groans.
“Yeah, the ones where you can see her panties, right? I swear she’s doing it on purpose.”
“Have you two ever…”
Sunghoon nods his head. “Once.” He bites his lip at the memory. “It was late, really late. She was sobering up after getting drunk at our place a few months ago when you were visiting your cousin. I told her she could sleep over since I was too tired to drive and the guys already left.
“What happened next?”
“I insisted she take my bed while I take the couch but she put up a pretty good fight. She insisted I sleep there with her since it’s my apartment and we’re both adults. We ended up dry fucking, man. She woke me up the middle of the night and I think she was having a wet dream or something.”
“Fuck, really?”
Sunghoon nods. “Yeah. Her leg was over mine and she got so shy when she realized we were both awake but I was so hard since her pussy kept rubbing over me.”
“But you two didn’t fuck?”
He groans. “Wish we did but it felt too good to stop. I took off my sweats and tried to get us naked but Y/N kept rubbing herself on me like she was desperate. That shit was so hot. That was the only time I get to see her cum, too. She let me on top of her and I had to pretend that I was fucking her balls deep since our clothes were still on.”
Heeseung curses and pictures himself in this exact position, running a hand through his hair to tug at his roots. “Were her panties wet?”
“Soaked. I could feel her through my boxers.”
“Y/N is too hot for her own good.” Heeseung watches Sunghoon’s cock jump as he readjusts his position on the couch.
“Wish I could touch her, you know? Knowing she he’s really wet turns me on. Shit.”
Heeseung can’t help but think about it. He’s seen you in swimming suits before and it doesn’t take much for him to imagine what you’d look like without them on. His cock stirs in his pants when he thinks about you gushing for him. Something about Sunghoon’s words turn him on too.
“What else do you want to do to her?” Heeseung finds himself asking his friend.
He laugh. “What don’t I want to do to her? I want to suck on her tits, man. It kills me that she doesn’t wear a bra when she comes over because I can see everything, especially when it’s a little cold. Perky nipples and everything.”
“Fuck,” Heeseung moans. “What else?”
“I’d want to eat her cute little pussy too. Fucks me up every time she flashes us with her shorts…I want to know what she feels like on my tongue.”
Heeseung laughs incredulously. “Damn, Hoon. You’re making me hard.” Sunghoon returns the laughter and doesn’t shy away from looking at his friend’s lap. Heeseung is almost as hard as he is but that seems to make him harder. “Is it bad that I want to cum inside of her?”
“No, fuck no it’s not.” Sunghoon bucks his hips involuntarily against his sweats. “Had a dream the other night that Y/N let me fuck her and creamed all over me…Goddamn, it felt so real.”
“Sometimes I think about her when I watch stuff,” Heeseung admits. “It’s better when I can’t see the girl’s face. I pretend it’s Y/N and it always makes me cum the hardest.”
“Me too. I love those twitter videos more than anything. Sometimes I pretend she’s the one who sent it to me.” Sunghoon brings a hand to his hardened cock and palms himself without a care in the world, even if Heeseung’s eyes grow wide at the movement. “C’mon, man. You can’t say you aren’t turned on.”
“Jesus. You jump right into it, huh?”
Sunghoon scoffs. “Don’t sit there and pretend you haven’t gotten off to me bringing girls home. I hear you in your bedroom, you know.” Heeseung laughs as if to challenge him.
“And you can’t say that you haven’t gotten off when I bring girls back.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sunghoon looks back at your Instagram profile and curses under his breath, gripping his cock above the fabric. Heeseung pulls his phone out to look at you too.
“Her tits are incredible,” Heeseung moans as he brings his hand to palm himself. “I wanna put my dick between them and fuck her like that.”
“Cum all over her tits,” Sunghoon adds. “I’d kill to see her on her knees for me like that. Her tits are my weakness.” Palming himself isn’t nearly enough. “Fuck it.”
Heeseung loses his breath when Sunghoon pulls his hard dick out of his pants. “Woah, now? Don’t you want to like, go to your room or something?”
Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you haven’t seen my cock before. You don’t usually get this shy when we share a girl.”
Fair point. Heeseung pulls his dick out too.
For a minute, the soft sound of the TV permeates throughout the room as the two of them look at your photos and slowly stroke themselves opposite each other on the couch. Heeseung hears Sunghoon grunt under his breath and hold back a deeper moans when his thumb swipes over his swollen slit that drools precum.
Heeseung’s cock is just as hard. His fingers grip himself with fervor and for just a moment, he pretends it’s your hand that’s stroking him. He imagines the look you’d give him if you were on your knees before him and throws his head back when he moans.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Sunghoon asks as he twists his wrist to stroke himself better. “Fuck, thinking about her always gets me so hard.”
“Want her mouth on me,” Heeseung says in a broken moan. “Her cute little mouth is always telling us off but fuuuuck. She should use it on me instead.”
Sunghoon squeezes himself at the base and flickers his gaze from his phone to his too to watch even more precum ooze out of himself. Thinking about you like this gets always makes him incredibly hard and wet. He can only imagine what would happen if he got the chance to fuck you.
The sounds of their arousal splashing against their cocks as their hand moves up and down is the loudest sound in the room and neither Heeseung nor Sunghoon can for certain say they aren’t turned on by it. In the past, they’ve had their fair share of threesomes with girls they’ve met at parties and past hookups who’ve expressed interest in fucking two guys at the same time, but never have they ever found themselves in a predicament like this.
You are the common denominator within their friend group. Somehow, senior year of university brought the give of you together after an assigned group project in one of your classes that forced you all to spend a good majority of your time together, slaving away for a good grade. The semester ended but the five of you still continued to see each other, project be damned.
Both of them are pretty sure Jay and Jake probably have a thing for you too. You’re hot, smart, and really funny. You’re everything any guy could ever want and it’s always a shame that you’ve preferred to keep to yourself instead of become as promiscuous as the four of them, even if they don’t judge you for it.
Sunghoon speeds up his hand and throws his phone down on the couch to cup his balls. “Ah, damn. I’m close.”
“Me too,” Heeseung breathes. He puts his phone down too and mimics Sunghoon by squeezing his own balls, pretending it was you getting him off. “You wanna cum together?”
“Goddamn,” Sunghoon says with a laugh as his arm flexes. “Why do I find that really hot?”
“Imagine if Y/N was here with us.” Heeseung licks his lips and zeroes in on Sunghoon’s cock, imagining as it disappears inside of your pussy. “Imagine if we both came in her.”
“Always wanted to try that double penetration shit. Shame we didn’t do that before.”
“Soon,” Heeseung promises. “Y/N looks like the kind of girl who’d be into that. If she let you dry hump her then I’ll bet she’s let us fuck her pussy at the same time.”
The logic doesn’t make any sense but neither of them care. They squeeze themselves until choked moans become louder than the TV in front of them.
Heeseung cums with white tall spurts ruining the hem of his shirt but the wet stain doesn’t bother him. At the same time, Sunghoon spills out much slower, his cum seeping out of himself like a water fountain as it dribbles onto his hand. Heeseung watches his friend continue rubbing himself while he spreads his cum down his cock and onto his balls.
Both of them regain their breathes and feel strangely turned on by the events that just transpired. Heeseung finds himself wondering what Sunghoon would look like when he’s got you underneath him. He tugs at his cock at the thought and surprised himself when he doesn’t soften up.
Sunghoon smiles wickedly at Heeseung when he sees his friend’s cock twitching, his own dick remaining hard. “Wanna go again?”
“You want to jerk off again?”
He nods and stands up from the couch. Sunghoon pulls his pants up just comfortably enough until they rest below his ballsack and walks to his room, leaving a dumbfounded Heeseung sitting on the couch in his soiled boxers until he Sunghoon comes back out with a toy that looks a lot like a woman’s torso, ass, and pussy.
“Fuck, you actually own one of those things?!”
Sunghoon nods. “I use it when I get off to porn. Don’t you have anything?”
“Just a fleshlight but I’ve always wondered what those feel like.”
“Kinda like the real thing by more rubbery and smooth, obviously.” Sunghoon holds it up for Heeseung. “Since you mentioned double penetration…”
Heeseung cuts him off. “Let’s practice.”
***
please reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed :)
#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#heeseung smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#sunghoon x reader#enha hard thoughts#enha hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#hard thought
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Addressing the OBX drama and the speculations:
Was JJ’s Death planned?
No, Rudy asked to leave the show. It wasn’t something the writers planned. He didn’t want to renew, the writers were rightfully upset and then decided to kill JJ off.
Did the writers/producers create an uncomfortable set?
No, they didn’t. This post is not true. The brothers were never inappropriate.
Was Madison a bully on set?
I’ve seen a post going around of someone saying Madison was a bully, controlling the set, and bluntly treating Rudy and crew members like crap. That is NOT true.
Was Rudy’s decision sudden?
Yes and No. No as in he let the Pates know ahead of time he didn’t want to continue (some time during the strike, so they had time to change what was already written). Yes, as in they were shocked by it.
Was there on set drama between Rudy and the Pates?
Yes, there was many disagreements/personal problems during s4. Yes, Elaine was involved and so was Lilah Pate. They are civil now.
Why did every ship but Jiara get a still?
The jiara still does exist but idk why it was not released. My source doesn’t know either and I don’t want to spread something not true. Rudy and Madison took pictures just like everybody else did.
Why did the cast chemistry seem off in part 2?
They shot episodes 1-5 first, THEN 10, then 6-9. The cast didn’t know rudy asked to leave until they received the script for episode 10. You can tell there was a drastic change between JJ and Kiara in part 2 because after the cast found out, Madison was upset with Rudy and his decision, so she didn’t put in as much effort into the scenes with him. She was upset because she knew that would mean the near end of obx and her character… in a way.
Was there alternate endings?
Yes, but that was only because they wanted to see if rudy would change his mind. There was even scenes where a funeral was shot (obviously they didn’t air it so I’m assuming they’re saving it for s5). From March-June of 2024, they spent the entire time doing reshoots of some scenes. That is why some things don’t make sense.
Did Rudy and Madison talk on set?
Yes, but not closely or anything. They’re not friends, they just did the scenes they had to do and that was it. All those people saying they’re hiding their friendship from the cameras or whatever… that is not true sorry. The pates can’t force them to act like best friends as long as they were doing their scenes.
Why did Jiara have “less” than everybody else?
It’s true that Jiara scenes were toned down. Part of it was Rudy asking for it. Madison didn’t care as much. Another part was just Rudy and Madison not doing more than what the script asked.
Was Elaine uncomfortable with Jiara scenes?
Yes, and she has been since s2. It got worse during s3 and obviously s4. That was part of the conflict.
What is the Rudy and Madison Drama?
Obviously what happened between them is private. It wasn’t the fans. The fans were more so the catalyst to something that had been brewing.
It is true that the girlfriends are involved and that they weren’t happy. Madison hurt Rudy, but not by being a bully. It was emotionally. The feeling was then returned on his end and it just got worse from there. It didn’t help when the girlfriends and fans were involved. It is true that it’s not a coincidence this happened when they both got involved with relationships. Most of you have speculated correctly, that is all I will say. I think you know by now what I’m trying to say.
Also when I say fans, I don’t mean the “shipping.” They never cared about that. What I do mean is that all this drama happened when Jiara fans were at their peak. Them wanting to see those characters together put Rudy and Madison in a problematic situation because they knew they couldn’t avoid each other on screen. Instead they just did so off screen.
Should the Writers/ Directors/ Producers stepped in?
Yes, but what I need you guys to understand is that these writers were basically father figures to those actors. They watched them grow their careers, supported them, made them who they are now. It’s hard when you spent so much time with each other and became a genuine family. Even their conflict with Elaine was hard because Jonas knew her family, his wife treated her like a daughter, and lilah treated her like a sister. They had every right to be bitter because from their POV, it’s basically like “hey I trusted you to bring my project to life and now I’m being forced to go in a direction I never wanted to go in.”
What’s going on behind the scenes right now?
A mess. They knew it would be bad but infact it is worse and they know that.
Am I reliable?
Honestly I don’t care if you believe me or not. You didn’t before and I got attacked (literal death threats in my inbox). I’m just a messenger. I’ve given you info before and clearly I didn’t lie about it. It’s up to you to decide.
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 ⚠: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭/𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤.
𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈⊘
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄'𝐒 ╰┈➤: 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐎𝐎𝐂! 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭.
𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 - 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌
𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @k1ssyoursister 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡♡
ྐ✚ We all know he stalks you with mephisto 24/7 from his stalking he has learned everything about you and i mean everything.
ྐ✚ He knows what you like to eat the most so he will randomly buy food for you whenever he feels like u didn't eat enough.
ྐ✚ He is a VERY possessive man, so whenever he sees a guy or girl flirting with you then their usually dead by tomorrow for messing with his darling without his permission.
ྐ✚ He hates to make you scared of him but if he has to do something you don't like he throws that thought out the window to do what he thinks is best for his darling.
ྐ✚ You know not to go on dates with people but whenever sylus makes you mad, you disobey him to get back at him for something he did.
ྐ✚ He favorite punishment method is tying you up to the bed post and leaving you for hours with a vibrator teasing you while he leaves to go do work or he just sits there and watches you while playing with the settings to the vibrator on his phone.
ྐ✚ You know the rules he has set in place for you and he KNOW'S you like breaking them so every time you break a rule, he finds out different ways to punish you.
ྐ✚ This guy is the type of guy to break your legs if you try to leave him, he just loves his darling so much he can't help it.
ྐ✚ He would never force you to have sex with him, but he will get more needy and clingy until you give in to him.
ྐ✚ One of his favorite things to do in bed is to eat your pussy that man gets pussy drunk from how good you taste on his tongue, it's one of his favorite flavors he said.
ྐ✚ He would most definitely get your name tattooed on his chest or abs he doesn't care if you like it or not because he loves it.
ྐ✚ He can be submissive for you if you like him like that, but he prefers being dominate and in control of things.
ྐ✚ He loves how his dick can make you turn into a dumb whore, he likes to take videos of you like that and then show you later to embarrass you.
ྐ✚ Whenever you would be possessive back he would get instantly turned on he thinks you look so hot whenever your mad someone flirts with him.
ྐ✚ He loves to mark you anyway he can to show that you belong to him and no one else, he marks you in places you know you can't hide like under your chin or near your ear.
ྐ✚ When you got kidnapped by his enemy's, he started a war with the people who kidnapped or hurt you and of course he won just for you.
ྐ✚ Will have sex with you ANYWHERE he doesn't care about public decency when it comes to you, would kill anyone who seen you while you and him have sex cause only he can see you like that.
ྐ✚ He would kill anyone just because you said so or complained about them, he can't have his darling sad about what another person did to you that's a no no for him.
ྐ✚ You know how much he's obsessed with you, and you use it to your advantage sometimes because you love how he would do ANYTHING for you and i mean anything.
ྐ✚ He loves to take you on random expensive dates to whatever he feels like would impress you the most or what you love to do, from a sky restaurant to a massage place.
ྐ❤︎ " p- please slow d- down sylus" you said while arching your back, trying to run from his rough thrust's. He let out a breathy chuckle while watching you struggle from his rough pace " but darling you love it so much- i can feel you clench around me so tight" he said with a groan. You run your hands up his body to wrap your arms around his head to hold onto something. "ughnn please i c- cant" you said, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You clench around his dick as you have your third orgasm of the night. He lets out a small moan. "yesss good girl, cum on my dick" He groaned, words breathy. He started to move his head down to suck on your abused nipples. Your leg's give out as they start to shake around his hips from the overstimulation.
He grabs your hips and starts slamming you back against him making him go even deeper. The sounds of wet skin slapping fill's the hot air. You start moaning louder close to another orgasm. "I'm going to ungh cum ah- again" you said, out of breath. His thrusts turn irregular the more he gets close to his own release. "Fuck darling you're so tight you're going to cut my dick off" Sylus said, teeth grinding together he thinks he can taste metal.
His pace gets more desperate the more he thrusts into you. You start to lose your mind from how deep his is in you, you swear you can feel him in your womb. "Fuckk- ah- i'm cumming ugnh darling~" Sylus said, words slurring as his vison turns white for a couple seconds. It's like something snapped. You let out a loud moan as liquid squirted out from around his dick trying to push his dick out from your tight hole. You whole world turns white from pleasure. He lets out a groan from overstimulation, he almost cum's again from how tight you feel around him.
As you slowly come back down from pleasure you see him above you with a smug smirk. You ignore that look and tried to move from out of his hold to go clean up. "Aww don't be embarrassed darling it was rly hot" he said, with a breathy chuckle. You ignored his remark and tried to get up from the bed to stand up but failed. You let out a sigh "can you help me please" You said in a small voice. He gets up to help you to the bathroom to clean the both of you up.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃
✧𝐓𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞,𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭✧
𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭<𝟑
©️ 𝐠𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲𝐭𝐛𝐥𝐥. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
#sylus lnd#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#sub sylus#sylus smut#sylus x reader#sylus#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#sylus love and deepspace#sylus x mc#sylus lads#sylus x reader smut#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#male yandere#yandere x darling#yandere smut#yandere sylus#𝒈𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒚'𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒔 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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As someone with a much larger vocabulary than the average American (due to various factors, but personally I attribute this to the terrible American education system more than anything else), I’ve genuinely considered starting to screen record while I’m writing essays for college as proof that I’m not using ai to cheat, unless you count spell check as ai. Which I don’t, and any sane person wouldn’t either.
AI checkers are faulty at best and genuinely broken beyond comprehension at worst. I lean towards the worst side of the scale. There have been countless cases of these things just flat out not working, whether that’s through false positives or not catching actual ai use.
I think the worst or maybe just weirdest case I’ve seen was a situation where one of my friend’s classmates got flagged for ai use because they included a block quote that the checker decided was suspicious. A fucking quote. Ya know, the one thing in an essay that you don’t write yourself.
Insanity.
I hadn’t heard about this trend of ai checkers forcing people to dumb down their words leading to actual published works being dumbed down before. I mean, I knew about the results, but I’d assumed that it was caused by the general trend of the American populous getting “dumber”. By which I mean that each year there are statically more people graduating with lower reading levels/worse understanding of how things like science and math work. It’s not their fault, the American education system is deeply flawed and underfunded more and more every year and far too many parents let iPads raise children instead of actually parenting. And the iPad baby bit is making things even worse year by year as more and more content for kids (and adults) is ai generated. It’s much more complicated than that, but I’m not about to go into minutia over this in a tumblr post.
The general trend toward content (including published books) being dumbed down is caused by a lot of factors. Pressure from publishers and higher ups, ai, the general lower standards of pre-college education (and college too, but less so for now), being raised by the internet, the fact that the internet is so consumed by ai and it worsens every day, the list goes on.
Ai isn’t the only source for these problems, but the fact remains that it is simultaneously the method being used to enforce the trend and most of the other sources can trace back their roots to AI in some way or another.
And frankly we can’t do Jack shit about it. At least, we can’t do anything to stop ai. It’s far too late for that.
What we can do is try for now to make sure our own writing isn’t mislabeled as AI, not by dumbing it down but rather by providing proof that you were the one to write it. We can make sure that when we have kids they don’t get access to ai and that they are raised by a human, not by a computer. We can try to help schools get more funding. We can rate books that haven’t been dumbed down higher than ones than have, and maybe even message publishers to tell them that they are idiots if they think their readers want something written so boringly.
We can’t stop generative ai, but we can learn how to coexist with it.
#ai is so fucking complicated#trying to talk about it at all is impossible because someone will inevitably come in screaming that you’re wrong#like no shit Jackie; ai is like fuckin bacteria#it has so many different forms that it’s impossible to call ai good or bad#some bakteria will kill me; some I’ll die without; some is just vibing and doesn’t affect me at all#ai is the same way#but here’s the thing Jackie; that doesn’t mean I cant hate the bakteria that kills me just because some of its family members are chill#so yeah I hate this kind of ai#if I could kill it then I would do so without hesitation#man I miss the pre nft and ‘web3’ days#fuckin web3#despise that shit#any guy that supports/uses that shit and/or listens to Andrew Tate and alpha bro podcasts is such a red flag#I lump those together because they are the same person in my experience#wouldn’t surprise me if a lot of those podcasts get at least partially written by ai
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Have You Ever Tried This One? | m.s.
Summary: The triplets attend singer!reader's concert and Matt gets catches her eye from the crowd.
Warnings: insinuating sexual acts, talks of sex positions
Word Count: 640 words
My Master List
Join my tag list : @matthewsroses
Divider by: @anitalenia
A/N: This is inspired by this post by @delilahsturniolo . Thank you for letting me use your work as inspiration! Also thank you to @chestersturniolo for helping me find her piece. I do not give consent for my work to be reposted, rewritten, or shared on this platform or any other.
<3 - Billie
The lights in the arena darkened around the group standing at the barricade. Matt, Nick, Chris, and Chris' girlfriend cheered along with everyone else as you appeared in a spotlight on the stage. "Boston! It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed into the microphone causing the crowd to roar. Matt practically had hearts for eyes as you sauntered around the stage in small, sparkly outfits. Sure, he had heard your music and seen you in photos before, but there was something different about seeing you in front of him. Chris and Nick quickly took notice of Matt's in awe state and chuckled.
After a few numbers you had reached the interactive section of your concert. Oftentimes you chose a person in the crowd who was dancing the most or seemed to be having the best time. It was never actually based on your physical attraction to someone, until this time. You had been eyeing the three identical boys in the front row. One specifically caught your eye. You'd seen these boys online before and while you didn't know much about them, you knew which one you wanted. He seemed a bit more quiet than the other two and was staring at you like you were glowing. "Girls, girls, come here!" you spoke into the mic, gesturing for two of your dancers to come over. "Do you see that guy right there? Yes, the triplet but that one, with the pink t shirt," you pointed in Matt's direction. He froze as the camera panned to him for the crowd to see on the big screen. Everyone went wild causing Nick and Chris to bust out laughing. The lights throughout the arena flashed red and blue as a siren sound played throughout the stadium. You knelt down in front of him, "hey there, what's your name?" You cooed into the microphone, batting your eyelashes.
"M-Matthew!" he stammered nervously as Nick filmed the interaction.
"Oh Matthew, I'm afraid you're under arrest. You are just way too hot!" You giggled into the microphone, "Will you take these sweetie?" The security guard took the fuzzy pink handcuffs from your hand and held them over the barricade for Matt to grab. His blush was iminent as he took them with a smile and a nod. You stood back up, winking at him. "There are so many thoughts running through my head, Matthew. Dirty, dirty - oh! my clothes are falling off for you, Matthew!" You laughed stepping out of your dress revealing a shiny pink body suit. The intro of the song began and you danced and sang with your crew. "Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad's genetics," You sang, gesturing to the triplets with a giggle. Every once in a while throughout the song you'd shoot Matt a look or a wink. "You make me wanna make you fall in love. Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah. Wanna try out some freaky positions? Hey Matthew, have you ever tried this one?" You sat on your knees with one arm in the air doing a lasso motion to represent cowgirl. Matt about fell over and Chris was a laughing mess next to him. His brothers could not believe what they were witnessing.
That song ended and the show continued. A few songs later, the triplets and Chris' girlfriend were approached by someone from your team. "Matt?" Your manager asked, "You've all been requested backstage after the show." She smiled handing them all passes and getting back to work.
"No way!" Chris' girlfriend jumped up and down.
"Dude, your charm got us connections!" Nick laughed patting Matt on the shoulder. Matt stood staring at the backstage passes in awe. He couldn't believe that you had noticed him in the first place but also to invite him backstage??
#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt stuniolo fanfic#Spotify
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₊˚ʚ Rain in the woods (Ford Pines x fem!reader) ₊˚✧ ゚.
part 2
author note: hey friends, so im sorry for taking so long, i wanted to post it this Saturday but i got lots of work, it's not proofread so I'm so so so sorry for any mistakes, i promise ill fix them a bit later!
also im working on some pre portal stan x reader x ford fic and it's filled with what we love the most - glass and angst (smut included!!), i know i always say it, but im so excited to share it with you guys <3
nsfw, minors dni
Stanford Pines — the enigmatic genius who’s always just beyond your reach, a mind so vast, it feels like trying to grasp the stars. You should be focused, but your gaze keeps flicking back to him. You’re utterly captivated, heart racing, mind spinning.
And then it happens. One moment, you're holding the mug, your fingers curled around it and the next it slips. No! The mug tumbles from your grasp, its ceramic form hitting the floor with a sharp, brutal crack that echoes through the room. You watch in helpless horror as it shatters into a thousand pieces, each fragment piercing the silence like a blade through your chest.
Your heart skips, thundering in your ears, and your face goes hot with embarrassment, an awful flush spreading across your skin as you turn your wide, panicked eyes toward Ford. His gaze meets yours, a mix of surprise and concern, but it’s his calm that gets you.
“Oh shit—” your voice cracks and you curse yourself silently, mortified. Of course, you would screw up right now, in front of him. Stanford fucking Pines, the man whose brilliance makes your own thoughts feel clumsy, an intellectual giant, and here you are, tripping over a damn mug. The pieces of it seem to scatter in slow motion, like a dream you can’t wake up from. You’re so stupid. You feel so stupid.
“I’m sorry— I'm so sorry,” you ramble, desperate to somehow undo the mess, your hands trembling at your sides. You want to sink into the floor, disappear, fade away. How could you be this careless?
But then Ford takes a step forward, and everything inside you freezes. His eyes are soft, so much softer than you expected, softer than anyone else’s gaze ever could be. He’s not angry, not even irritated. Instead, he’s. . . calm. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says, a chuckle escaping him, as though the whole situation is laughable, as though you’re not standing there, mortified in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with worse. Trust me.”
For one second, everything really seems to slow down as his words sinks into you like a balm. You believe him. It’s impossible to not. He’s seen everything and here you are, worrying over a broken mug.
“Im really sorry,” you stammer again, caught off guard by the softness in his tone, the tenderness in his gaze. What did you expect? That he’d scold you, dismiss you? But no. He’s calm, like this minor catastrophe is nothing. As if nothing could rattle him, as if you, standing there like a fool, didn’t matter at all.
Stanford laughs. “You know, after all I’ve been through, interdimensional beasts, curses, that damn triangle demon, a shattered mug would be nothing. So don’t apologize.” his eyes meet yours. “Im not made of glass. It takes more than a broken cup to rattle me.”
And then his voice lowers with that quiet authority. “Sit down,” he commands softly. “I’ll handle this. Don’t want you getting hurt.”
You can’t help it. His voice sounds so low, commanding, yet laced with something so tender it makes your skin tingle. The words come easy from his lips, but when they’re aimed at you, they tear through you. They make you feel like you’re something precious, something to be cared for, protected. But more than that, a part of you craves to be held by him, right now, right in this moment. To be pressed back into the cushions of the sofa, feeling the strength of his arms, making you feel like you’re the only one in his world.
You’re not just obeying his words, you’re aching to obey.
That’s why without thinking, you sink into the soft cushions. And shit, there he is — bending down, his bare chest covered with scars still glistening from the rain, droplets make you ache. They fucking shimmer on his skin, taunting you, daring you to touch him, taste him, make him yours. Every inch of him is fucking perfect. God, how are you even supposed to think straight when he looks like that? Your body is screaming for him, for his touch, for everything.
You try to look away. You can’t. His broad shoulders, his strong fucking arms, his hard chest. It’s too much. He’s a fucking masterpiece and all you want is for him to paint you in ways you can’t even process yet. Your body betrays you, again, that warmth spreading low in your belly, growing. You cross your legs, trying to hide the desperate need that’s already pooling between them. Fuck, how are you supposed to calm this down? It only gets worse.
He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and it’s all laid out in front of you, impossible to ignore. His every movement is so natural, so fucking sexy, it makes your pulse race. You just know he can make you feel things you didn’t even know your body was capable of.
You’re trying to calm yourself, really, you are.
You cross and uncross your legs again, desperate to release some of the tension building between your thighs, but it only makes it worse. Fuck, why is this so hard? Every thought you have is consumed with him, with what he could do to you, what he should do to you. And the more you try to control it, the more your body betrays you.
You need to touch yourself, but you’re stuck, just waiting, consumed by the need for him.
And then, the thoughts take over completely.
You’re delusional to the point where you feel his hands on your legs, parting them, spreading you wide. You imagine him on his knees, lowering his head, his lips tracing the inside of your thighs, so fucking gentle, so goddamn slow, as he watches you with those eyes, sharp, hungry, possessive. And then, he presses his tongue to your clit, licks you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, making you whine for him.
You bite down on your lip, trying to hold it back, but it’s impossible. You need him. You want him between your legs, fucking you so deep you can’t think straight, making you beg for it. Fuck, what would he say? “That’s it, baby. . . just like that… good girl, taking what I give you. . .” the words seeping into your skin like a drug you can’t quit.
You bite down hard on your lip, desperate to keep quiet, but your body is louder than you’ll ever be. Fuck, your body’s soaking through, your pussy throbbing for his touch, and all you can do is stare at him, mesmerised. His body is a goddamn work of art, and you want to trace every inch of it, feel it on top of you, pushing inside you, taking you.
It’s so fucking embarrassing, but you can’t stop it. Your body’s so ready for him, for his hands, for his cock. You can almost taste him, can almost feel his cock sliding inside you, filling you so nice.
Fuck, any writer of erotic novels would envy your imagination. The thought of him getting rough with you, pushing you down into the cushions, fucking you into the sofa until you can’t think, can’t breathe. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. Mine to fuck whenever I want. You belong to me.”
The thought of him pounding into you, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, makes you want to lose your mind. You just want to hear him growl your name as he fucks you like you’re the only thing that matters.
And you know you’ll let him. Let him claim you, take you apart, until you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure, a good girl begging for more.
“Hey,” Ford’s voice drags you back into reality, unwantedly. Your heart stutters in your chest as you blink, trying to focus on anything other than the way your body’s still burning, aching for him. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, the concern on his face so fucking intense it almost makes you want to tell him everything you’re feeling, right here, right now. But you can’t. God, you can’t. Not when the way he looks at you like that.
“Are you alright? You don’t look too well.” his voice is full of worry, but there’s that edge of guilt creeping in as he mutters, “I really should’ve checked the forecast before dragging you out in this mess. . . feels like a bit of a fool for that.” his fingers are rubbing the back of his neck in that shy way he does, that little sign of guilt that makes your stomach clench in a way that’s too much to handle.
But it’s his fucking proximity that’s driving you wild. He’s so close now, standing there shirtless, looking like some goddamn wet dream come to life. You can’t focus on anything but his body, the way the rainwater trails down his skin, glistening so beautifully. Fucking fuck.
“No, Ford, im absolutely okay, I swear—”
“Hold still,” Ford commands and that’s when you feel his hand so damn warm against your forehead, sending a shockwave of need straight through you. His touch is too fucking soft and yet it feels like it’s scorching you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that you’re so goddamn horny your body’s reacting to the smallest contact.
You try to calm yourself, try to act normal, but it’s too fucking hard. You force a weak smile. “I told you, I— I’m fine,” you answer, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s all you can do to not let the truth slip. You want to scream it, how much you need him, how much you ache for him right now, but you don’t. Not yet. Never probably.
Ford’s brows knit tighter together and his eyes lock onto yours. He’s not fooled, not for a second. “You’re lying. Don’t try to brush it off. If you’re not feeling well, you need to tell me.”
The urge to confess everything is unbearable. You want to tell him you’re not sick, you’re just fucking drenched in need, that’s all! Aching for him to pull you into his arms, to kiss you until you can’t breathe. But instead, you do the only thing you can do: you force a nervous laugh, a weak attempt to play it off.
“No, I swear I’m fine! I could go on a thousand more anomaly hunts with you!” the words spill out with a little too much enthusiasm, a little too much frenzy and you pray to whatever god is listening that it’s enough to get him off your case.
Ford’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms, still towering over you, still so close
Man, just step back or I'll pounce on you and eat you.
“Cold rain can do a lot more damage than you think. You could’ve caught something serious, and ignoring it won’t help. Do you have any idea how quickly a fever can develop if you’re already run down?”
Oh no, his voice shifts into that familiar, lecturing tone, the kind that makes you want to both roll your eyes and lean in closer to hear more.
When he says something about cold exposure affecting the immune system, you should be paying attention. You try to focus on his words, but it’s hard when he’s standing there — half naked, with his chest on full display, his messy hair slightly wet from the rain. God, he's just so fucking handsome. The serious, worried look in his eyes makes you weak and you can’t help but sink a little deeper into the sofa.
Just as Ford’s lecture hits a peak, the door swings open with a loud bang and Stanley Pines strolls in, halting mid-step as his eyes zero in on the scene before him. Ford, half-naked, standing too close for comfort, and you, perched on the sofa with that nervous smile plastered across your face.
Stan’s grin stretches wide, clearly loving the situation as he leans casually against the doorway. His eyes flick between you and Ford, then he gives Ford an exaggerated once-over, raising an eyebrow at his lack of turtleneck. “Well, ain’t this cozy,” he drawls sarcastically, giving a smirk that only widens when he spots Ford’s obvious discomfort. “Ya know, Sixer, when I said ‘show the girl a good time,’ I didn’t mean literally strip down to do it.”
Ford’s eyes snap toward his brother, his mouth twitching in a way that’s almost a grimace. His posture straightens, arms crossing defensively as he glares at Stan. “Stanley, really? Must you always reduce everything to your level? She dropped a mug and I was helping her avoid a mess. You wouldn’t understand, but maybe try acting your age for once.”
“Hey, all I’m sayin’ is, if ya plan on gettin' cozy, maybe take it to a couch that ain’t mine.” Stanley’s gaze slides over to you, flashing a wink. “But if you’re lookin' for company, darlin’, I’m more than happy to—“
Before you can let the awkwardness spread more, you spring into the conversation, desperate to steer it somewhere less humiliating. “Stan, actually, Ford was just helping me to—” you force a friendly smile, trying to make light of the situation.
Stan laughs like he’s heard it all before. “Sure thing, toots. But between you and me. . . you’re doin’ a hell of a job of keepin’ my brother here on his toes. Haven’t seen him all riled up like this since. . . well, ever.” your heart thump so loudly in your chest, you’re sure everyone can hear it.
Ford’s jaw clenches so tight, you can practically hear his teeth grinding, but he doesn’t look away from Stan. The vein in his neck starts to twitch.God, it’s almost painful how much he wants to just end this conversation, end this moment, and pull you somewhere private, somewhere safe, where he can have you all to himself, but he doesn’t. “Stan, enough. We have an anomaly to inspect. Something I’d actually prefer not to delay any longer.”
Stan lets out a low whistle, clearly enjoying every second of Ford’s discomfort. “Yeah, yeah. Go on, Sixer, run off to your little projects. Just don’t forget there’s a real world out here, alright?” he gives you a quick nod, still smirking. “and you, don’t let him lock you in his lab too long, sweetheart.”
***
Grumpy Ford. The kind of irritated, scowling Ford you never realized you’d find so irresistibly enticing. That brooding frustration, that laser-sharp focus, you can’t help but imagine all that intensity turned on you, directed into every inch of your body.
God, if he just shoved you back onto that workbench right now, you’d let him. You wouldn’t care if his precious equipment went crashing to the floor, wouldn’t even flinch at the thought of papers and tools scattering everywhere. All you want is him, his body pinning you down, hands gripping you like you’re the anomaly he’s desperate to dissect, figure out, devour.
Holy shit, you want him to push you up against that wall, pin you down until you’re writhing underneath him, his body grinding against yours, every bit of that frustration poured right into you.
Slick heat building between your thighs as you watch him, the way he moves around his lab, muttering in frustration as he punches numbers into some device, brows knitted in that fierce focus. And all you can do is want his hands on your hips, his mouth on your neck, his cock driving into you like you’re all he’s thinking about.
“The rain seems to have masked the anomaly’s energy signature. I suspect it might be due to ionization in the— are you even listening?”
His voice snaps you back, he’s tearing right through your flimsy attempts at focus with that intense gaze of his, as if seeing everything you’re thinking. You offer him a small, sheepish smile. “Of course I am! Gravity, paranormal. . . s-signatures, right?” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes keep drifting over his body, your ache throbbing inside, thighs pressing together as he stands there, so close you could reach out, slip your fingers through the fabric of his clothes, feel the warmth of his skin.
Ford’s gaze follows yours, his expression changes as he considers whether to answer. “That’s a thought-reading device. Designed to access certain mental frequencies,” he explains, stepping closer to it and closer to you. “It can pick up surface thoughts. . . theoretically, anyway. I was working on it before I. . . uhm, it’s meant to strengthen and protect someone’s mental processes. Block out. . . certain entities from gaining access to their mind.”
Ford lets out a soft, exasperated sigh. “Honestly, you’re as distractible as Stan.”
He turns away, but your eyes don’t leave him. Instead, you let your gaze slide over the room, until something catches your eye. A strange, helmet-like device bristling with wires and so, without thinking, you ask, “Hey, what’s that thing?”
A mind-protective device. Of course, he’d build something like that. It’s so him, his beautiful mix of intellect, caution, that underlying fear of what he’s seen, what he’s had to fight.
“So, it could let me peek into that brilliant mind of yours?” it’s a playful a tease, mostly. But inside you just ache to know, to wonder, to feel his thoughts. Would he think about you. even once, in the same filthy, breathless way you think about him?
Stanford grins. “In theory, yes, but it’s hardly necessary. My mind is. . . complex, too complicated for most people to understand."
And then, suddenly, unexpectedly, Ford lifts the machine, his grin is bigger. “Why don’t you try it on?”
Your heart slams against your chest and panic sears through you, cutting under your carefully held composure. Oh god. No. No, no, no. Every filthy thought, every desperate image of him, of those long, deft fingers tracing down your skin, of his mouth, his hands, of him pinning you down and splitting you open on his cock, of moaning his name until you can’t breathe. All of it, laid bare, displayed for him to see?
You choke down the crazy urge to run, instead forcing yourself to laugh. “Why, Professor Pines, are you doubting my integrity?” you counter, flashing him a daring smirk, praying it’s enough to distract him from the heat that’s burning its way up your cheeks.
Ford chuckles in response. “Integrity?” he repeats, his tone mocking. “No. But curiosity? Oh, absolutely. I think it would be enlightening to see what actually goes on behind that amused little expression of yours.”
“There’s nothing interesting in my mind,” but your words barely sound convincing to you, let alone to him.
Ford tilts his head, arching his brow in that all-too-familiar, skeptical way that makes you want to simultaneously squirm and melt. “Oh really? You know, most people would be thrilled to test out new technology. But you. . . you’re avoiding it like it’s some kind of torture device.”
“Oh, yeah, you know,” a poor attempt at casual. “I just. . . don’t wanna risk, you know, brain cells or something.” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. God, please just buy it. . .
Ford’s laughter rumbles and by the look on his face, you know he doesn’t quite believe you. But, mercifully, he lets it slide. “Alright, alright,” he relents. “I’ll spare you. This time.”
***
The rest of the evening is a haze of Ford’s intense meticulous rambling as you both sit tucked away in the quiet of his lab, soft lamp light casting warm shadows that stretch over the various gadgets, books, and uncharted maps sprawled out on every available surface, his domain, the world he’s always losing himself in.
He’s explaining again, his words so precise about the anomaly you saw earlier today. His voice rises with each detail, the way the rain altered it, how it vanished before either of you could even think to grab it. You should be focused, but his beautiful voice turns into a lullaby. Your eyelids grow heavy, your body sinking deeper into the chair.
And Ford notices.
The way your head tilts too far, your eyes fluttering closed just a little too long. He’s not as lost in his thoughts as he likes to think. His gaze sharpens, flicking to you with that careful, assessing precision he’s always had. He sees that quiet exhaustion in the way your posture slumps, the way your breath catches unevenly as your body fights against the pull of sleep.
His voice softens. “You’re exhausted,” he murmurs. “Of course you are. . . It’s too late. Go, get some rest. This. . . all of this will still be here tomorrow.”
A sigh tries to escape your chest before you can stop it. You want to protest, to stay longer, to pass just little bit more time with him. But the way he looks at you makes the words die before they can leave your lips. There's something unspoken in his eyes, a quiet concern mixed with that stubborn, unyielding sense of responsibility.
You try to stifle a yawn, your hand reaches out, fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve, as if the touch might change his mind. “Maybe. . . maybe just a bit longer?” however even your own voice sounds tired.
His answer is gentle but final. “No. You need to sleep. I’ll be here, as always.”
You don’t argue. When you step away, you catch one last glimpse of him, standing amidst the piles of notebooks, the soft light casting shadows along the lines of his face, catching the silver in his hair in a way that’s so painfully beautiful so you let yourself stay a little longer before you close the door.
***
The silence that reigns in the room after you leave feels like a huge, endless void that stretches to all corners of the laboratory and suffocates in its stillness. Ford exhales slowly, a sigh caught between frustration and something deeper he can’t quite name. His gaze lingers on the door, where you disappeared through just moments ago, soft sound of your footsteps still echoing in his mind. God, he’s such a fool, he thinks, fingers pressing to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the ache that’s been building inside him ever since you spoke those soft words, just a little longer.
He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t ignore it. The way you leaned in, hanging onto his every word, as if he were something more than he really was, something beyond the man who hides behind his work, behind his mind. The weight of your trust presses on him and with it comes the unbearable pressure of knowing he doesn’t deserve it.
And God, he tries to keep himself restrained. He tells himself that this is madness, that you’re too young, that every second he spends watching you, wanting you, is a betrayal of everything he’s tried to build.
But you’re gone now and his lab feels emptier than ever. Even as he reaches for his journal, his thoughts are still tangled with you, with the way you looked at him, the way your sleepy eyes followed his every move, the way you seemed to hang on to every word, every breath he took. Did you even realise what you were doing to him?
And as he opens his journal, he knows there will be no more notes on anomalies tonight. No theories, nothing but the restless, fevered words he can never, ever say aloud. Ford knows that if these thoughts ever slipped past his lips, they’d destroy you. You’d never look at him the same again. And he can’t lose you. He couldn’t bear to watch that disgust fill your eyes, that revulsion as you saw him for what he truly is: a man with a heart full of shame, but aching for you all the same.
He writes with a fever, the words coming too quickly for him to even think them through. He’s confessing things he’ll never have the courage to say to you. The way you make him ache, how wrong it feels, how unnatural it is to want you this way. You’re so young, so vibrant, so full of life. How could someone like him, an old man, a man of logic and reason, ever think he could want someone like you?
And yet, it’s all he can think about. It’s all he does think about.
God help him, he wants you.
Stanford’s hand trembles as he writes fast.
“The way she seems to lean closer with every word I speak, as if I’m some kind of god to her. I can’t breathe when she’s near, but I can’t stand being away from her either.”
He’s sickened by it, disgusted by the way his hands ache for you, by how his thoughts run into places he can’t control. But even so, he thinks, I can’t stop. I can’t stop wanting you.
“If only she knew what I was dreaming about, how I want to erase all layers of distance between us. I want to melt into her, touch every inch of her skin, as if she was made to belong to me, only to me.“
Ford can’t let you know how deeply he feels, how far he’s fallen for someone like you, someone so out of reach, someone who might never look at him the way he looks at you. Because if he did, if he let those words slip from his lips it would ruin you. It would break you.
And he can’t do that.
Not to you.
So, he writes. He writes because it’s the only way he can make sense of the mess inside of him. The only way he can be close to you without breaking everything.
“God, if she knew, she'd never see me as anything but the perverted old man I am.”
“God help me. . . I want her breathless. I want her shaking, clinging to me as I bury myself inside her, feeling every inch of her wrap around me like she was made for this. I want her to be mine. The years between us be damned—”
One sentence, scribbled with shaking hands: “if she knew how much I want to make her come on my cock while explaining the fundamental laws of interdimensional, she’d never look at me same way again”
“I want her shaking, spent, marked by me, by the man twice her age who should know better but can’t help himself.”
“I picture teaching her how to harness interdimensional energy, but my mind twists it, images shifting until it’s my body pressed to hers, whispering “concentrate sweetheart,” while I trust into her from behind. Her breath would stutter as I correct her technique with my hands on her hips.”
“I shouldnt crave her, not with the years that separates us like an unyielding chasm. Yet when she laughs, carefree and obvious, I imagine making her cry my name, hands guiding her hips as I thrust inside up into her, showing her exactly what an older man can do. Showing her why age doesn’t matter when she’s trembling and breathless beneath me.”
“She's got no idea, does she? I want her bent over my desk, books and notes scattered beneath her, while I thrust into her like some animal in heat, filling her over and over until there's nothing left of her but soft, pleading sounds and the way her body pulls me back in with every move. I’d guide her, make her feel exactly what it means to be touched by a man who’s twice her age and twice as obsessed.”
Meanwhile, now, alone in your room, you’re haunted by the memory of your lovely scientist, pulsing between your legs, leaving a needy ache that’s impossible to ignore. Just thinking about him, the strong lines of his hands, those six fingers that could make you see stars. . . it all sends a jolt straight through your body and suddenly, you’re melting, undone, utterly helpless to this craving for him.
You let yourself fall back into your bed, eyes closed, his presence wrapping around you like a ghost you can’t shake off. You can’t even catch a steady breath now, the dampness pooling between your thighs, every inch of you begging to be touched — not by yourself, no. You need him, his skilled, explorative touch, those six clever fingers. The memory of every stolen glance, every careful brush of his hand, it all coils up inside, a slow, delicious torment, and now it’s throbbing there, heavy with need.
You drag your fingers down the length of your body, tracing where his hands might go as you imagine him, his fingers slipping lower, finding that sweet, drenched ache and grazing it with a delicate touch that he’d know so damn well. 'Fuck,' you’d gasp, his name like a prayer on your lips as his six fingers roam, rough and relentless, pressing right against that needy opening, filling you up until you’re nothing but breathless whimpers and cries for more.
“God, sweetheart,” you hear his voice, “I’ve wanted this for so damn long. Do you feel that? How hard you make me?” and then he’d press his cock between your legs, hot veins throbbing against your entrance, and you can feel his breath on your neck as he tells you what a beautiful mess you’ve become for him.
Your fingertips brush over your clit as you imagine his hand there, gentle but insistent, exploring you with that scientist's curiosity, his six fingers pressing slow, circling that sensitive bud, coaxing soft gasps from your lips. “Let me feel you. Take it slow, sweetheart. Let me make you mine.” but even as you touch yourself now, imagining his fingers in place of yours, it’s still not enough
You arch from own hand, fingers gliding through the wetness now slick and ready, you press a little harder on your clit, circling it faster, imagining the way his hands would dig into your skin, his strong arms wrapped around you as he thrusts into you, “take it all, darling. Every inch of me.”
And by some lucky chance, Ford stands outside your door, his pulse slamming hard against his ribs, a wreck of a man just clinging to sanity. The sound of you — all gasping, breathy moans slipping through the thin wood, whispering his name in that desperate little voice — he can’t help himself as his hand flies up to the doorframe, his fingers digging in so hard they’re going white, knuckles taut, trying to keep himself together.
But the universe is laughing at him, at his pathetic attempt at control, at the sheer uselessness of his restraint, because fuck, every gasp you make sinks its teeth into him.
Something hot runs through him, then it sinks low, thickening in his chest, then spreads down between his legs. His cock twitches, rock-hard and aching, straining against the fabric, pressing hard, begging for the attention he keeps denying it. He shouldn’t be here — hell, he should be miles away by now, somewhere that isn’t two inches from falling apart at the sound of you! But he’s not. He’s a goddamn mess, held hostage to the way you’re sighing his name.
“Fuck, sweetheart. . .” he’s going insane out here.
Ford knows how you look right now, imagined it thousands of times, laid out on your bed with those soft thighs parted, hands trailing down, fingertips grazing over warm, damp skin, teasing yourself open, getting yourself wet just for him. Fuck, he thinks, I shouldn’t be this fucking desperate.
Ford lets his hand slip down, pressing hard against the hardness straining in his trousers, feeling himself throb against his own palm. There’s no relief, just that painful, growing ache that has him grinding his teeth, biting back the low, broken sound that wants to rip free from his throat. He’s a man undone, ruined just by the thought of you, the image of you with your legs open, your body calling out for him like he’s the only one you need.
“Jesus, fuck. . .” his free hand reaches down, trembling as he slides it beneath his waistband, wrapping around the throbbing heat of his cock, feeling himself swell, hard and pulsing against his palm. It’s wrong, so wrong to be here, touching himself to the sound of your little whimpers, but fuck if he can stop.
The sounds coming from your room grow louder and it’s too much for him. He’s already so fucking close as he imagines himself on top of you, sinking inside you, feeling your cunt wrapped tight and hot around him, your body arching, your hands clawing at his back, those delicate fingers pulling him close, begging him not to stop.
Ford’s back collides with the lab door as he stumbles in, chest heaving, adrenaline of hearing his name on your lips. He locks the door behind him.
Fumbling hands tug at his belt, fingers clumsy, impatient, tearing at the fabric as it’s the only thing standing between him and relief. Finally, the belt slides free, and he wraps a shaky hand around his cock, swallowing down a low hiss as the raw heat of his own skin meets his grip.
He strokes himself roughly and desperately, letting his thumb graze the sensitive tip with a ragged groan that he’s helpless to contain. His mind runs further, and he pictures you, perfect and pliant, sinking to your knees before him with eyes so innocent, with lips parting as you take him into your mouth. As you let him fuck your throat.
A shiver runs through him and he leans his head back, sighing, groaning and grunting louder as he loses himself in the fantasy. God, if you only knew. If you could see him like that, a desperate moaning and trembling mess with his hand wrapped around his leaking cock.
“Ahh— ffuck,” hell, just how much he wants to hear you make those sounds too, moan for him, he wants to feel you beneath him, warm and soft, clinging to him, legs tangled around his waist as he sinks into you. His strokes become faster. Ford imagines pressing you down onto the lab table, your dripping pussy welcoming him as he thrusts deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper until there’s no part of you he hasn’t claimed. His breath hitches, hips bucking into his hand as he imagines the way your walls would tighten around him, clenching, pulling him in.
He’s shaking now, barely able to hold himself together, his free hand clutches at the edge of the workbench, knuckles white, as he lets himself sink fully into the fantasy. You’d look so damn perfect spread out for him. Ford’s hand moves faster, tighter, fueled by the image of you writhing beneath him, helpless, pleading, so sweet and open, absolutely his, his beautiful girl, sweetest thing.
The pressure building until he can’t take it anymore. His hips jerk, a loud needy moan spilling from his lips as he cums, his body shuddering with release. For a few long, breathless seconds, everything fades: his mind, his shame, everything but the overwhelming, blinding wave of pleasure.
***
The morning breaks, a new day arriving, one that promises to be spent with Ford close by— and, isn’t that something to look forward to?
When you meet Stanford, the first thing you hear is, “Did you not learn anything from last time?“
You bite your lip to keep from laughing, but before you can protest, Ford is stepping closer, his coat swishing around him as he moves. The wool of his scarf unravels with practiced ease, and in a smooth motion, it’s over your shoulders, the warmth of it spreads around your neck. You want to say something, but all you can focus on is the way Ford’s thumb traces the edge of the scarf, his touch so delicate it feels too intimate for something so simple.
This shouldn’t feel like it does, you think, but your body screaming what your mind refuses to admit.
“There,” Ford says, stepping back. “You’ll thank me later.”
“I thought you checked the forecast this time,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t today supposed to be sunny?”
Ford crosses his arms with a smile. “Yes, well. . . One can never be too cautious. After all, last time—“
“—last time, I nearly froze my ass off,” you finish, the laughter bubbling up between you and Ford shoots you a look that’s equal parts exasperated and fond, like he’s about to scold you but can’t help himself.
“I wasn’t going to put it quite so crudely,” he says, but that reluctant chuckle escapes him before he can hide it.
When the sun climbs higher, the forest around you changes in hues of gold, the leaves thinning just enough to let the light filter through in soft rays. You walk side by side, close enough to hear the rhythmic crunch of your footsteps in the fallen leaves and Ford’s murmured observations, but it’s all you can do not to lose yourself in him. His words float past, about terrain, weather, anomalies and predictions, but your mind doesn’t follow, not when your eyes keep straying to him.
You can’t help but wonder if there’s any room left for you in his head, if he ever thinks about anything other than those damned anomalies. A piece of you wants to shake him, to pull him from his thoughts, to remind him that life is more than equations and mathematics. But, god, there’s something so cute about him when he’s like this, so fully consumed by his world, and you can’t look away.
“You’re thinking about something,” Stanford starts, pulling you out of your trance. “Is it the anomaly, or. . .?”
“Just wondering what it is we’re actually tracking. I mean, last time it disappeared before we could even get a good look, so. . . what’s the plan if it shows up again?”
Ford’s face lights up with approval at your question. “It’s an elusive creature, no doubt,” and again, his voice slips into that familiar lecture tone, one you’ve learned to love despite yourself. “But this time, I have a better understanding of its behaviour. The rain threw it off last time, but if my theory is correct, today’s dry weather should keep it on course! And if we can corner it near the ravine, there’s a chance we might get a clear reading on its—”
“Ford,” you interrupt, he stops talking, his brow lifting slightly. “I mean, yes— corner it near the ravine,” you repeat. Wait, what did you just say?
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Ford asks, smiling at you. “If you’re still tired from yesterday, I can handle this on my own.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, crossing your arms as you look at him defiantly. "Oh, please. I said I could do this a thousand times over with you and still keep up,” you challenge.
He laughs again and his laughter is so damn cute. “That, I don’t doubt.”
Time pass and as you walk beside Ford, your mind drifts, you're not really thinking about the anomaly or the hunt anymore. No, your thoughts are elsewhere. Again. Somewhere they shouldn’t be, but there they are. You can’t help but notice the way the sun highlights the strands of silver in Ford's hair, the curve of his shoulders as he walks, his posture so effortlessly confident and strong. And you think about how much you liked the way his body looked in the rain yesterday, when the wetness clung to his clothes and made every line stand out even more.
You sigh inwardly, watching him from the corner of your eye. The weather, as perfect as it is, only makes you feel a bit wistful. Why did it have to be sunny today? You had been hoping for more rain. The kind of rain that soaked him through and made his clothes cling to his skin, the droplets tracing the curves of his chest. That was a sight you’d never forget. But today sun is too bright, too cheerful.
The soft breeze brushes your hair against your face, and you snap out of your thoughts just as you see the clearing ahead. Ford slows his pace, his gaze scanning the area with his usual calculated precision. And just as yesterday, air here feels different, as if charged. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the unease settling in. This is it, the spot where the anomaly was last seen. But, of course, there's nothing. The clearing is quiet, calm, completely empty.
Ford steps forward, looking around with a frown, muttering something under his breath. You stand there for a moment, waiting, listening to the wind rustle through the branches and the distant call of a bird. But there's nothing.
“Where is it?” you ask and Ford turns to you, his expression calm but with that familiar hint of worry in his eyes, the kind that usually only surfaces when he’s feeling frustrated.
“Don’t worry,” he says, though his voice sounds more like he’s trying to reassure himself than you. He straightens up, adjusting his glasses. “The anomaly will show itself. We’ve got all day to catch it.” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
All day with Ford?
Your heart skips a beat and you have to fight to keep your expression neutral. What could be better than spending the entire day with him, just the two of you in this quiet, secluded place? No distractions, just you and Ford, and the anomaly that might never show up.
It takes a little more time while you and Ford are waiting for the anomaly to appear and so, a dialogue ensues.
“I’ve seen some more strange things. In all my years of research, there have been anomalies of all shapes and sizes. Creatures from dimensions we can’t even begin to understand. Some are harmless, just curious things that wander around, never meaning to cause harm. Others. . . Others are far more dangerous. I've seen creatures that could tear through steel without breaking a sweat. Their behavior is— well, unpredictable.”
“What about the really dangerous ones?”
“There's one anomaly, one creature that I’ve encountered that still haunts me, to this day.” he looks away for a moment, as if weighing the decision to tell you more. “a beast unlike any other. Its skin is like iron, nearly impenetrable. And its mind is relentless. It doesn’t think like us. It doesn’t have the ability to reason, only the ability to kill and survive.”
Wow, you already can see it in your mind — a massive, hulking creature, covered in jagged, metallic plates, its eyes wild with an animalistic hunger.
“And you’ve seen it?”
Ford nods slowly. “Yes, once. And it wasn’t an experience I care to repeat.” and then he calls you by your name. “Listen, if we encounter anything dangerous, you stay behind me. Don’t try to be a hero, don’t try to ‘help out.’ I’ve trained for this. I know these creatures; I know their instincts and behaviours. You. . . you don’t. It’s crucial that you follow my lead.”
“I’m not helpless, you know,” you mumble, folding your arms. “I can handle myself.”
But Ford only smirks, oh how cute you are. “And if you ever find yourself lost between dimensions, the key is to stay calm. Panicking is a surefire way to make yourself vulnerable. Reality in those places doesn’t play by the same rules. Your mind can trick you, distort what you’re seeing”
You stare at him, a mixture of awe and confusion washing over you. “Well, thanks, Ford, for the guide on how to travel through dimensions and fight the monsters that live in them.”
“Years of experience. Sometimes the hard way. But you don’t need to worry about that, alright? Just stick close, keep your wits about you, and we’ll make it out just fine.” he smiles.
“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, your gaze dropping to the forest floor. “You’re. . . you’re Stanford Pines. You’re used to dealing with this kind of thing. Me? I’d probably end up wandering off into some other dimension if I so much as blink wrong.”
He chuckles softly, and you feel his hand gently rest on your shoulder. “That’s why I’m here. To make sure you don’t.”
You open your mouth to respond, but then— crack. A twig snaps somewhere in the trees to your left. The sound is sharp, distinct, echoing through the quiet forest.
Your heart skips a beat and you instinctively grip Ford’s arm, eyes widening. He tenses, immediately going on alert as his gaze darts toward the source of the noise. “Stay behind me.”
You swallow, nodding as you press yourself close to him. Ford moves slowly, keeping himself between you and the sound, his shoulders squared, every muscle tense and ready.
Another rustle, this time from the other side. You bite your lip, feeling the cold prickling sensation of fear clawing up your spine. This doesn’t sound like a bunny, not in the slightest.
The sounds grow louder, surrounding you both. Ford’s posture tightens, his gaze focused and determined, while you hover close behind him, whatever lurks in the shadows isn’t friendly, and Ford, as always, stands ready to protect you at any cost.
Suddenly, Ford raises a hand, signaling for you to stay still. One. . . two. . . three—
A small, furry creature darts out of the bushes, a pudgy raccoon, more plump and inquisitive than fearsome. It scampers out, blinking innocently at you both and you feel sigh with a relief.
You slip out from behind Ford, who’s still standing rigidly, eyeing the raccoon with disbelief. “Well, would you look at that,” you say, glancing up at him with a slight grin. “Our terrifying forest intruder was just looking for a snack, huh?”
“Don’t get too close,” Stanford warns, still frowning. “These things are rarely alone.”
You laugh softly, crouching down and letting the raccoon sniff at your hand. “Oh, come on, Ford. You really think this little guy is hiding—”
The words die in your throat as you catch the look on his face, his eyes wide with sudden horror, mouth open as he shouts, “behind you!” and you whip around just in time to see something that makes your heart freeze, a hulking mass with matted fur and claws like daggers, looming in the shadows. Its eyes flash like yellow lanterns and a rank smell hits you, earthy and rotten all at once. You barely manage a step back before it lets out a furious roar, its maw wide enough to fit a head and then some. The sound is so loud it rattles through you and a splatter of spit flies from its jaws, landing on your clothes. You go stock-still.
“Th-that’s. . .” you stammer, but Ford’s voice interrupts you, calm and steady despite the chaos.
“Stay calm. It’s eyesight’s weak, but sound-sensitive. Just— slowly step back.”
You barely have time to take in his words before the beast’s head snaps toward you again, snarling with an intensity that shakes the trees. Immediately, Ford pulls out his gun, aiming directly at the creature, he fires off a round that echoes through the forest, hitting the beast and it lets out a howl of pain that sends birds scattering from the treetops. But it’s still very much alive, and now it looks angry, furiously angry. The monster's gaze is fixed on Ford with a vengeful glare, and he rushes towards him with a blood-curdling growl.
Ford stands firm, taking careful aim as he readies to fire again. But just as he steadies his grip, a branch underfoot shifts, making him stumble. The gun slips from his hand, landing somewhere in the tangle of roots and leaves and suddenly, he’s weaponless, the monster mere feet away.
Panic flares in your chest as you see the creature, claws poised, ready to strike. Ford scrambles back, but it’s too close, and something snaps inside you. Without thinking, you dart forward, adrenaline flooding through you and you grab a thick branch from the ground. With a yell that’s as much out of fear as it is determination, you swing it at the creature with everything you have, landing a blow that momentarily distracts it from Ford.
But that monster retaliates, slashing out in a blind fury and suddenly you feel the sting of claws raking across your leg. Pain flares sharp and hot, but you grit your teeth, ignoring it, keeping yourself steady enough to stay upright.
Ford seizes the moment, his eyes flashing with a mix of fury and fear as he snatches his gun from the ground, turning back to the creature. His voice is hoarse but resolute, “what are you doing?” he shouts irritably, calling your name again. “I told you to listen to me!”
With a final, controlled shot, he fires, the bullet hitting its mark. The monster lets out an agonized cry, staggering back before it turns and lumbers off into the dense woods, its snarl fading into the distance.
The adrenaline ebbs, leaving you and Ford alone in the sudden silence. His gaze finds yours, mad and worried all at once, his hand reaching out to steady you as your breathing finally starts to slow.
Ford’s face twists with frustration, jaw clenched tight and when he speaks, his voice is seething with barely controlled anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, charging in like that! I told you to stay back!”
You swallow, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks, not out of embarrassment or fear, but because, god, he’s hot when he’s angry, with that fire in his eyes and his tone like a damn storm. You force yourself to stay upright, despite the dull ache pulsing in your leg. “Ford, it’s fine. I just wanted to—”
But he’s already looking at you, really looking, his gaze flicking from your face to the way you’re leaning on your uninjured leg. “You’re hurt,” his tone dips from anger to something softer and worried. “Damn it, I should’ve never brought you out here. I’m such an idiot—“
“No, Ford, it’s just a little—” you try to brush him off, waving your hand dismissively, but as you shift your weight, a sharp bolt of pain shoots through your leg. You bite back a wince, forcing a smile. “Just a scratch, really.”
“Don’t even think about hiding this from me,” Ford turns annoyed and dead serious again, he steps closer as he assesses you, and there’s something really fierce in the way he insists, “Let me take a look. Now.”
For a moment, you think about arguing. But the pain flares again and you realise there's no winning against that look in his eyes. With a sigh, you give in, nodding reluctantly as you show him your new wound, from where the blood has already soaked into the fabric, turning it dark red.
Ford’s face changes instantly. “Damn it,” his hand hovers uncertainly like he wants to reach out, to touch, but doesn’t quite know where to begin. “This is— this isn’t just a scratch.”
His fingers finally settle gently around your calf, supporting you, his touch unexpectedly gentle as he examines the wound. You can feel his pulse under his fingertips, it’s obvious he’s anxious, and for a second, he doesn’t look like the Ford who always has the answers.
“This was my fault, I shouldn’t have— damn it, I should’ve kept you safe.”
***
The journey back to the shack feels agonizingly silent. Ford has one arm around your waist, nearly carrying you as you limp along, every step makes the wound throb in your leg. The sting, the ache, it’s all mingling with a sick sense of regret. You feel it settling in your chest. The whole day had been a disaster. You both went out to catch that anomaly, that one lead he was so excited about. . . and instead, you ended up facing something brutal. The monster had nearly killed you both.
Ford hasn’t spoken a word since the forest and with each passing second, it gnaws at you more. The thought appears in your mind, he must regret it. Bringing you along, letting you be there, yeah. . . he’s mad and not in the way you find hot. He’s distant, still supporting you, guiding you with a firm hand, but it’s as though he’s somewhere else entirely.
When you finally make it to the Shack, you find it blessedly empty. No Stan’s loud jokes or questions to break the heavy silence between you. Ford helps you to walk, still wordless and the whole way, you’re trying to find something to say. Some excuse, some apology, but every time you look over at him, you just see that grim look and you stop yourself.
Inside, he lets you sit on the couch. You clear your throat, forcing yourself to speak, to try to lift that heavy cloud around you. “Ford, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for things to go that way. I didn’t mean to—”
But Ford cuts you off. “No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I should never have let you come along, I put you in danger.”
That serious tone. . . You nod, saying nothing more and after a beat of silence, you get up slowly, mumbling something about heading to your room. Ford doesn’t stop you, and he watches you go, still worried as fuck, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s rooted there, expression tight as he watches you limp down the hall.
When you get to your room, you close the door softly behind you, but the pain in your leg has started pulsing heavier, sharper, demanding your attention. You look down and finally decide, you’re going to check it, even if just to prove to yourself that Ford’s look wasn’t warranted, that maybe you’re not as bad as he seemed to think.
You settle on the edge of your bed, carefully and slowly taking your pants off, but as you pull the fabric, the sight that greets you isn’t reassuring in the slightest. The cut on your thigh is deep, seeping a fresh, dark line of blood that’s begun to smear against your skin. “Fuck. . .” you curse, tilting your head to get a better look, your fingers hovering over the edges of the wound. Just as you’re mentally preparing to find the first aid kit, a familiar voice cuts through the silence.
“No, please, just— let me help still. I won’t be calm until I—”
In the midst of your concentration, you hear the faintest creak of the door, and before you can even react, it opens.
You barely have a moment to react, still sitting on the edge of your bed, the bloody gash on full display as Ford steps inside, eyes widening as he looks at you. He freezes and for a moment, you both just stare at each other in silence. You’re sitting there in your panties and a t-shirt, and you don’t know if to be happy or not, realising how exposed you must look. Ford’s gaze flickers to your bare legs, to the wound on your inner thigh.
You cross your legs in shock and embarrassment. “Ford, what—” you start, but he quickly raises a hand, cutting you off.
“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ Ford approaches, he kneels beside the bed, looking up into your eyes. “I— I can’t just leave you like this,” he pleads. “Please. . . let me help.”
“Ford—“
Ford’s hands hover over your leg. “You need to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, make sure it doesn’t get infected. It’s going to hurt, but, I can help. I’ll be gentle. Just let me. . . please.”
His eyes search yours, a quiet desperation in them that seems to say more than just his words ever could. Ford may be brilliant when it comes to the unknown, but in moments like this, when it’s you that’s hurt, he’s lost, even if he tries to sounds smart. He doesn’t want to mess this up, doesn’t want to fail you.
Slowly, you nod, the vulnerability in his gaze too much for you to ignore.
“Alright,” you whisper. “but be careful, okay?”
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Why Tommy is Different to Buck’s Previous Love Interests
and Why it Doesn’t Make Sense.
This is going to be a long and (primarily) impartial post intended for all audiences, whether you like Tommy or not. However, this is not the blog to be airing grievances on. I’m not here for that. I am going to put some opinions of mine through here, but that’s all they are, and I’m going to try stick with facts with a side of interpretation. And Please, for the love of God, read till the end before commenting.
If you want to think I’m nitpicking then go ahead, but every scene of this show gets analysed to death and back for varying reasons. This will be no different.
The Hospital Scene
For the first time, we see one of Buck’s love interests sitting with the 118 at the hospital while they wait to make sure one of their own is okay. In regard to the group chat that appeared on that scene, form your own opinions. We don’t know if Karen or Maddie is in this group chat either. Opinion: I personally don’t think it’s that unusual to have a work group chat, and I also think Bobby showed Athena his phone. I don’t believe that was meant to reinforce the idea that Tommy is an ‘outsider’- if he was an outsider, he wouldn’t have been at the hospital altogether.
Never before has a LI shown up for the 118 at the hospital with Buck. Ali and Abby turned up at the hospital for Buck because it’s him who was hurt, and Taylor was at the hospital with her camera man for the story (s5 May Day). When Eddie got shot, Taylor showed up at the hospital because she thought it was Buck who got shot. Tommy showing up is a unique situation- they were sat in their civvies as a group in the waiting room, and Tommy is there with Buck for Denny. Tommy was part of the 118 waiting room crew; we’ve never seen this before; Buck’s partner showing up for his team(family) at the hospital.
The closest we’ve had before is Abby showing up to Chimney’s return to work party, but at this point they weren’t actually together, and obviously Chimney was okay by this point, it’s not a hospital scene.
The Firefighter Life
When Ali breaks up with Buck, she says it’s because she can’t handle the firefighter life, waiting for him to get hurt. She says it’s not what she wants. This issue isn’t present with Tommy because he is also a firefighter. He knows what he signed up for with Buck, he’s perfectly and intimately familiar with the risks they take everyday and the risk of getting hurt. While it’s a perfectly reasonable assumption that this might still be an issue to some degree, no one wants to see their boyfriend getting hurt after all, they both understand the life and what it means. Tommy solves the reason Ali broke up with him.
The Bobby Approval
This one is a key one. When the scene first aired, I strongly believed (and still do) that this line was also intended for the audience. We have Bobby’s explicit approval of Tommy as a person and for Buck. He’s good people, he’s good for you.
Bobby and Buck never spoke about Natalia or about Ali. I hold the belief, like many, that Bobby never particularly liked Taylor because of how she tried to exploit Bobby in season 2. However, Bobby did help Buck decide on a Christmas gift for Taylor and vice versa. Yet, he never said on screen that he thought they were good together. Hen and Chimney do also come to Taylor for help (s5) with Jonah, but even in that scene they’re shown to not trust her with what they’re telling her.
Abby is more complex as she was a main character in season 1 and her relationship with Buck was a full-season arc. Bobby helped Buck tie his tie and gave him genuinely good advice before their date. Bobby even talks to Buck about having a serious relationship and how to handle it, about how to treat her with respect. Other characters definitely aired their reservations about Abby in season 2 (Is it the age difference? More like the time difference). I believe Bobby gave his implicit, but not explicitly said, approval of Abby through the way he treated and spoke to Buck about their relationship. Despite this, I do think it’s poignant that for the seven years after Buck and Abby broke up, we never saw Bobby approve or like another one of his relationships until Tommy.
The Future Talk
In 8x06, Josh straight up asks Buck if he can see a future with Tommy. This of course follows up Josh already asking “do you care about him, do you think about him when’s not around”. The discussion between Josh and Buck is unique, because Buck has never spoken to a friend about this before. His relationships with Ali and Natalia weren’t developed or long enough to warrant the discussion, he never talked about the future with Abby, and he said “no” at the prospect of proposing to Taylor. For the first time, Buck is asked on-screen if he sees a future with his romantic partner, and Buck says yes. This is explicitly said for the first time. Yes, he made a confused face when Josh asked if he loved him, because clearly Buck hasn’t given it that much thought until he’s confronted with it. Either way, Buck, for the first time, says he wants a future with his romantic partner.
This further prompts Buck to ask Tommy to move in with him, which, different to his motivation for asking Taylor to move in with him, is fuelled by wanting a future. Buck even brings up marriage in his discussion with Tommy, which he’s also never discussed with a romantic partner on screen before. The content of both discussions is something we haven’t seen Buck talk about or admit before.
Eddie Friendship
All of Buck’s love interests, bar Abby, have screen time with Eddie. However, Ali and Natalia only share screen time with Eddie when they first meet because they meet on a call. As Buck’s girlfriends, they don’t share screen time with Eddie.
Taylor once has dinner with Buck, Eddie, and Christopher, and she compliments Eddie’s cooking. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe this is the only main time they’re seen together. It’s civil, it’s fine. However, they aren’t friends.
Tommy is a unique situation again; because he’s a guy, it might be easier for Eddie to form a friendship with him. They’re very fast friends, they do Muay Thai together, Tommy works on Eddie’s car, they play basketball together, Tommy went to Eddie’s house 3 times in two weeks and met Christopher. Christopher likes Tommy, he thinks he’s cool, and Eddie invited Tommy to Chris’ virtual birthday party. He’s the first love interest to not only get along with Eddie, but become friends with him outside of Buck (emphasised by 7x04 where Tommy tells Buck that his friendship with Eddie has nothing to do with Buck). The show makes their friendship very clear.
I’ll fully admit that Eddie’s friendship with Tommy was needed for the plot in 7x04, but beyond that, why was it relevant? It already made Buck realise he wanted to be with Tommy. They might’ve needed it for a plot reason but they’re friends afterwards too. Maddie calls Tommy “Eddie’s friend” in 7x05 and they’re laughing together in the hospital and getting alone fine in 8x05. Why?
Fitting Into Buck’s Life
Of course, this all culminates by saying Tommy fits into Buck’s life extremely well.
Tommy doesn’t have to go through the awkward phase of meeting all of Buck’s friends, because the only one he hasn’t met is Eddie. Tommy was previously friends with Bobby, Hen, and Chimney, they already know him. He’s already met Athena. Sure, they might have some catching up to do, but they already have a good history. They’re familiar. Again, Tommy already gets along with Buck’s friends outside of Buck.
Why was Tommy at the hospital for Hen’s son if he wasn’t integrated? Why feel comfortable going to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding? Even Buck makes the point of saying that Tommy is already going to know everybody there; he’s not just his date, he already knows them.
Tommy is friends with Buck’s friends already, Tommy understands the demands of being a firefighter and what it entails with the risks and the commitment. Tommy understands Buck’s friendship with Eddie and Christopher, and his dynamic with Bobby.
Intention (Conclusion)
This is all to say- this is intentional. If the point of the relationship was always to breakup, why have Tommy included in these scenes? Tommy didn’t need to be there at the hospital for Denny, but they wrote it in for him to join the 118 waiting. Bobby didn’t need to give his approval of Tommy on screen. It didn’t further his relationship with Buck nor the plot. It was written this way for a reason, and I think anyone can admit the actual breakup in the scene was abrupt, and it’s all of the above context that makes it even more abrupt.
I know it makes his relationship with Buck more meaningful, sweeter, more heartbreaking for Buck, but we never saw these moments with his ex girlfriends, particularly Taylor, and their relationship was solid until it wasn’t. If this unique treatment of Tommy was meant to put Buck through heartbreak then I offer a second question: what is coming up for Buck that requires him to go through heartbreak?
Why go through the effort of writing Tommy to fit in so well with Buck’s life if he’s only there to further a plot? None of Buck’s other LIs were treated like that, and they achieved the plot they needed to. So why was this different? Buck’s relationship with Taylor was a lot longer, and they lived together, but we never saw these types of scenes with her. Why? Why was this different? What was the point of making the relationship meaningful and different?
Again, this post is not here for people to argue. It should be clear to everyone, regardless of why you think so, that Tommy was treated different by the show than Buck’s other love interests. There must have been a reason, even if that wasn’t clear. Is something big coming up for Buck that he needed to be heartbroken for? Is it poor writing? Is Tommy coming back? There must be some reason that Tommy was treated differently by the writers other than “just because”.
#911#911onabc#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#tevan#episode analysis#long post#analysis#8x06#tommy#thoughts#interpretation#tommy was treated different by the show and you can’t convince me otherwise#bbessay
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i really don't think its a valid point because the majority of men in these online reactionary spaces are not like this because of the misconception of feminists being mean, it's almost always because they know that under leftist ideals they will not be allowed to enact violence the way they wish to.
these types of men always poke fun of supposed leftist men, calling them soy boys, saying they're neutered, they're cucks (they really have an obsession with anyone they dont classify as an alpha/chad as a cuck, since the only reason a woman would want an "unattractive" and not rich man is for nefarious purposes, of course), and overall just a dumbass who's trying too hard to get the attention of women. it has nothing to do with the idea that leftists think they're potential rapists or murderers, because they openly speak on how they wish they were allowed to do both of those things. there's nothing more gender affirming for them than treating women and children worse than animals.
as a side note, yes. none of these men in these spaces like each other (unless they can make money off other men together through "classes", podcasts, or "self help books".) i've seen on forums, in comment sections, podcasts; they all doompost and tell each other to kill themselves constantly, that they're wastes of space, that they're beyond love and redemption. and when you're at that point where you simultaneously believe you're the scum of the earth but also deserve to be worshiped like god, what is there to lose? might as well post about and come up with plans to pass laws where you can force 14 year old girls to become sex slaves and outlaw all mixed race relationships/sex.
the idea that reactionary spaces are attractive to men because they treat them kindly unlike The Left is so odd because whenever I come across that content it's essentially the same dynamic as pro ana "meanspo". if you don't know what that is, it's "motivation" based on degrading the viewer to the point where they can't "make excuses" and not become anorexic, or in this case a true Alpha Male. I feel like thisis objectively worse for someone's mental health than The Left
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hey girly please can you do one with marc bernal where he’s super clingy after his injury and he just wants to be babied, tysm xxx
Generous heart — Marc bernal.
Pairing: Marc Bernal x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend had never been a clingy person, but it seems this injury had changed him more than you thought.
Word count: 560+
Disclaimer/s: Acl injury, pain, light angst to comfort. mostly fluff though !
A/N: When do the injuries end UGHHH. Come back soon diva
Marc’s parents had been allowing you to stay over for the night more and more. Ever since his injury, they had claimed he’d been more down than usual, but whenever you came around, suddenly his spirits were lifted and he felt.. well, the closest thing to normal someone could with the injuries he’d sustained.
While sitting up in his bed, Marc uncomfortably moved around. At some points he’d wince in pain, trying to disguise his discomfort by looking to the side. Each time you’d remind him that he needed to verbally tell you if something was hurting, rather than pretending it wasn’t there.
So, you’d convinced him to just lay down, which he did, but not without pulling you down with him. A soft laugh escaped your lips as he tugged on your arm.
“Lay down with me.” He huffs, looking up at you with a forced scowl.
“Chillax, i’m going to!” You grin, slowly inching yourself from a sitting position down to a lying one. The second you were flat against his bed, he pulled you closer, using his right arm to slip under your head.
Once he was satisfied with the position, your head resting on his shoulder, he bent his head down to place a kiss to the top of your head.
You smile at the gesture before unlocking your phone and opening TikTok, scrolling mindlessly through the videos as Marc watched with you.
Thats how most of your days and nights spent together went. He would have you cuddle with him and watch whatever you had on your phone. In fact, he’d prefer you nearly laying on top of him on your phone, than you giving him space and sitting beside him.
Marc was never this.. cuddly before. You weren’t complaining, though. Just to make that clear. You loved it, in fact. But, it was new, and each time you couldn’t help but smile the whole time. You liked this part of him, the one you hadn’t seen much until recently.
“Wait!” He suddenly says, making your eyes widen and shoot up to him, “I wasn’t done with that video, scroll up.”
Letting out a long breath, you huff. “Holy shit, you scared me!”
A guilty look passes across his face, “sorry..” He says sheepishly, “just scroll up, please?”
Nodding, you scroll back to the last video. “Let me know when I can continue.” You chuckle.
“Will do.” He hums, “hey, wait.”
Groaning, you pause the video. “Yes?” You meet his gaze once again and you’re met with a smug smirk. Great.
“A kiss would do.”
Oh this little…
Rolling your eyes, you tilt your head back to grant him access to your lips. He takes the chance, using his free hand to place his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head up a little further. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his kisses, they were always so gentle and meaningful and perfect…
Sighing into the kiss, your eyes flutter shut. “Anything else you need? You big baby.” You murmur against his lips, feeling the smile that forms on his.
“I am a little hungry..” He pulls away, cocking his head to the side. “Takeout?”
“Or we could get off our asses and go make some real food.” You suggest, but exit TikTok to open google. “What do you want?”
likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any future marc related posts.
DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !
#marc bernal#marc bernal x reader#marc bernal x you#marc guiu x female reader#marc bernal x y/n#marc bernal imagine#marc bernal one shot#blurb#football#fluff#fanfic#fc barcelona#fc barcelona fic#fc barça
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ARCANE S2 ACT 1 SPOILERS BELOW as I analyse the scene between Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn and Isha, what it means for them, and the link to Caitlyn's 3-point plan for the strike team.
I don't usually post about Arcane here but I need a place to talk about it without word limits so here we are. Also my comparison between MTP's telling of A scandal in Bohemia and the og will be done at some point I have just been very distracted.
So the scene I'm focusing on starts here when Isha runs up to where Jinx and Vi are fighting, lying between them a pointing a gun at Vi to protect Jinx.
Now Isha is a kid that has accidentally wandered into Jinx's life and gotten attached to her enough to wish to try and save her from danger - a new found family for Jinx alongside Sevika (who gives aunt vibes to me). But not just any kid is going to run into the line of fire like this. If we know anything about Isha now it's that she's brave - really brave - but also shouldn't have to be in this position.
Taking at look at her face, Isha's expressions seem to flick between anger and fear quite quickly. There's the facial muscles around her nose often flaring for that anger, but also a deep fear you can see too.
I think it's how she maintains focus on Jinx whilst the gun is turned away to Vi that's interesting. It's clear that she's afraid of what Vi is doing and is focused mostly on protecting Jinx - so that gun isn't something she necessarily wants to fire. She occasionally kept trying to press the trigger, but her hesitation isn't necessarily that she can't, but that she doesn't want to. She had ample time to take a very clear shot but she doesn't (this is interesting when we think about Caitlyn nearby who is desperate to take a shot even if it's not completely clear - Isha's motive is protection whereas Caitlyn's is revengeful action). And once she is unarmed all she can do is cling to Jinx. Perhaps both for her protection of Jinx or for Jinx to protect her. Like how a child would cling to a mother or father or even a bigger sister. Isha is supposed to play the role of a younger sibling to, in my eyes, mimic that of Vi and Powder that Jinx is desperate to protect.
I wanted to move on to Vi because I think her reactions/expressions are the most interesting. You get to see her face a lot, and once Isha has the gun to her face the main expression is one of fear. Not fear for her own safety, but a fear for Isha's safety, AND a fear of what she's been doing as an enforcer.
When Isha has the gun, all Vi can focus on is this mystery child - who she's never seen before might I add- suddenly appearing to protect Jinx. Even if Isha is scared she's still trying to protect her, trying to help even. Perhaps Vi sees herself here, a kid just trying to protect her loved ones from the enforcers that oppressed them. Perhaps she sees Powder, a kid throwing themselves in harms way just to try to help. Either way, she sees an innocent kid putting themselves in the line of fire to protect their loved ones. Except this time Vi is the dangerous one, rather than the protector role she used to fill.
When the gun is knocked away we see Vi again, frozen in place as she stares at Isha clinging to Jinx. This one feels so much more like a face of realisation - that Jinx still has loved ones left and that Vi has become the problem she swore to destroy. She's become the enforcer who enters Zaun to 'clear stuff up' with no regard for how it affects the people of Zaun. Instead of a protecter, she has become an aggressor.
If you will, remember Caitlyn's 3 goals - 'Locate Jinx, Dismantle Shimmer, and neutralise any agents still loyal to Silco'. I feel that this is where Vi realises that those goals only truly help the people of Piltover rather than anyone in Zaun.
1 - 'Locate Jinx' - this is basically corporate speak for Caitlyn wanting to k!ll Jinx. Originally, Vi was fine with this, seeing Jinx as a 'monster she created' and who 'taints the memory of her sister' Powder. But in doing so, she now realises that she will leave people behind who care for Jinx - Isha in particular. She's seen in her life so many kids left behind after enforcers killed their parents/families who then turn to rebellion (INCLUDING HERSELF AND POWDER!!) that she knows if she k!lls Jinx here with Isha as witness that the cycle will only continue - more kids who turn to violence as a result of trauma. If she were to go through with it she'd have become a direct parallel to those enforcers who killed her own parents, and she's already become a parallel to the ones who terrorised her and her family in her childhood with her activities in the Zaun strike team (especially with their usage of the Grey).
2 - 'Dismantle Shimmer' - whilst the removal of this drug is a good thing for pretty much anyone, the way the team go about it creates huge problems. The team are specifically shown to simply burn large quantities of the stuff (in the opening montage to 'Hellfire') - not only does this add more dangerous gasses to the underground areas (which they've already been releasing the Grey into), but it also creates issues for addicts. With access to it simply cut off, a decent portion of the population who are addicted to it will experience pretty dangerous withdrawal symptoms which could even lead to d3ath. With no system in place, addicts are left entirely on their own, so the destruction of Shimmer like this only helps those in Piltover remove a threat to them without actually helping the people. Meanwhile higher-ups in Piltover like Salo can use it recreationally (for his tattoos, even if frowned upon as implied by Mel's conversation with Lest).
3 - 'Neutralise any agents still loyal to Silco' - I'm pretty sure the Chembarons are considered Silco loyalists due to the Zaun strike team's attack on one of Margot's brothels in episode 2. The Chembarons, now down to 3 of them, were heralded as the only leadership of Zaun besides Silco. Their infighting has caused major issues in Zaun, but their elimination will not necessarily help Zaun in the long run. The removal of the Chembarons will leave a power vacuum, much like the one already left by Silco, that others will only step into over time. The removal of leadership in Zaun will only cause more issues as up-and-comers will try to fill the power vacuum and build their own forces, eventually becoming a new threat but not without a long period of chaos as people try to build resources to fill the vacuum. Piltover needs the removal of those with current power and forces to remove any possible threats of attack like the attack on the councillor memorial. It is, again, only for the benefit of Piltover.
Vi had seen becoming an Enforcer as the only way to bring down Jinx (reinforced by Caitlyn's insistence of doing things together and also partly by Maddie talking about what Caitlyn did to get her the job) AND as a way of protecting Caitlyn, but now I feel that she has been able to see the negative affect she's been having on the people of Zaun - her own people. I think this is why Vi switches into doing anything she can to protect Isha and Jinx, her protective side for Powder kicking back in specifically.
Looking back at Jinx, she was so ready to d!e at Vi's hands until Isha appears. Her expression here is the clearest look at her emotions we really see in the sequence - concern and fear. We know she's not afraid of dying or k!lling (especially when she said earlier before the fight that she's not remorseful of orphaning kids as she's 'done it to herself enough'), but she's so visibly afraid of Isha being hurt, and afraid that Vi would be the one to kill Isha. She's grown attached to Isha more than she'd like to admit, perhaps even seeing similarities to her and Powder (especially in their desire to help their family).
Once Isha's gun is shot away she clings to Jinx. Jinx at first is trying to claw her off - get her away from the danger, telling her to 'scram', referring to her simply by 'kid' so she leaves and doesn't get hurt. But when Vi is just sitting there looking rather than attacking she brings Isha in closer as a form of protection and looks at Vi. The way she looks at Vi. That's fear. She's afraid of her own sister again. She's afraid her sister will hurt an innocent kid, who's just trying to help, with a punch again. All her face says is 'Don't hurt this kid'.
And it's devastating. Devastating for both Jinx and Vi. Jinx sees her sister as a threat, whereas Vi begins to see a bit of Powder in Jinx again. She sees herself about to repeat a mistake that previously cost her everything - leaving a child alone with no support. This is also part of what turns Vi to protect Jinx and Isha from Caitlyn.
Last but not least, Caitlyn.
Caitlyn's effect on this scene can sometimes be forgotten (I almost didn't include her in this analysis at all) but it's actually bigger than one may think. I mentioned before how her desperation to k!ll Jinx causes her to shoot even when her shot is not clear (and how it contrasts Isha's reluctance to shoot even with a clear shot), but there's also so much more. For one, she shoots at the gun Isha is holding almost without a second thought. She tries to shoot Jinx whilst Isha is clinging on to her almost without a second thought. She shoots Vi's gauntlets when she tries to stop her. She frankly is unhinged at this point, tunnel vision on killing Jinx with no regard for anyone else in this situation, not just Isha but Vi also.
Grief is a strange thing. It can create many reactions from people depending on their situation. In Caitlyn's case, her grief has morphed into a desire for revenge and a thirst for violence, strengthening her pre-established prejudices towards Zaunites that she was so adamant in reversing in season 1. In her grief there is one constant - blame for Jinx - that morphs into further prejudices towards Zaunites as a whole to justify her actions in her own mind. She similarly justified her tunnel vision in this fight with the idea that 'she wasn't going to miss' despite missing her shot multiple times already (specifically when she shoots to k!ll Jinx and only hits her middle finger).
Her actions here are what happens when grief takes control and her usual logic and reasoning is not able to intervene as much as usual. Her insistence on not harming innocents (seen early in episode one), her understanding of how Zaunites were treated unfairly (s1 episode 7) - it's all overshadowed by her grief. However, her grief doesn't excuse her actions - she's still making decisions based on her own internalised prejudices that with her grief are projected outwards and drive her actions.
This has all culminated here, where her tunnel vision has led to her hurting Vi and almost caused her to hurt an innocent child. She's this looming threat to the scene, her hextech rifle being probably the most powerful weapon here - and it's in the hands of someone who is vengeful and seemingly trigger-happy and in a position of power she was not ready for. If Vi was a big danger in Jinx and Isha's eyes at first, there's a bigger danger in Caitlyn, one that even Vi notices. And she's only going to get worse next arc.
[There could be more to say but I think this is a great place to end it! I may make more arcane posts as s2 releases but i'll have to see, I just really wanted to talk about this scene in particular it's just so interesting.]
#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane season two#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane vi#vi arcane#arcane jinx#arcane isha#arcane caitlyn#jinx arcane#jinx#isha arcane#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#arcane analysis
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I FW WITH THIS HEAVYYYYY OP!! I do have my own theories as well that I wanted to add onto this since I agree with yours, so I hope you don't mind!! :3 A lot of this stuff you said but I'm also adding more detail from the new update!!
HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS!!
For starters, I agree HEAVILY with the idea of reincarnation being a theme in this game!! The creators tumblr has a few posts where Sol talks about his soulmate, and while that isn't a definite need for a series to be a reincarnation series, I've always thought about soulmates being someone you'll meet in EVERY life after you're reincarnated! Also, I feel like Sol remembers his past life, I didn't know about the post where Amnesia was mentioned, but I feel like it def fits into Sol remembering his past life! So I think Sol, MC, AND Crowe were all reincarnated!
Sol, being the executioner, as you said! One, they kinda LOOK familiar, when I saw the executioner I instantly said Sol LMAO! Two the whole bruise on his neck thing you mentioned! Three, in the bad end Sol uses an axe to kill Crowe, axe's are KINDA similar to guillotines, you aren't gonna stab someone with an axe like you would a knife, you use an axe to chop like a guillotine! Also I'm like 95% certain I've seen something from a game or movie where the use an axe shaped blade instead of the typical guillotine blade! Fourth!! I know Sol isn't the ONLY one who kills, but he's a yandere, he EXECUTES his rivals!! The executioner drawing is also seen with an axe(what Sol used to kill Crowe with) and a collar on and Sol ALSO wears a collar!! It also says that the executioners arms are littered with scars and so are Sol's!
I actually see MC being either a commoner, peasant, OR and most likely, a farmer! I think something from Sol, MC's, and Crowe's past life carried on with them until this life!! And I think MC has always been a farmer, like how they are now! Another reason is when you study with Crowe, in Crowe's question, he talks about the queen befriending a commoner(I believe Crowe is supposed to be the "queen"), I very much feel like the whole scenario Crowe brought up is SO much like Crowe's relationship with the MC! The MC being sus of Crowe for being so nice to them in the beginning of their friendship, much like how you can choose to say you'd be wary of the queen for being nice to you if you were a commoner, Crowe being extremely kind and helpful to the MC even though he really has NO reason to, and he even LOOKS like royalty(he's so pretty omfg) and has been stated to be wealthy! During your first outing with Crowe(when he takes you sightseeing!) he asks if you believe in god, if you say no the MC starts to talk about how they would get upset that their father and theirs hard work would get downplayed and seen as a miracle of god, later in the study session, Crowe uses the same scenario for the what happened between the farmer and the queen, the queen using the farmers hard working labor to throw parties.
And finally, Crowe being royalty! OKAY!! So I've already said he looks princely and is wealthy(which as you said Sol hates the rich)! Two in the study scenario with Crowe he talks about how everyone started turning against the queen because of rumors(I already think about how he doesn't get along with his family so they COULD be included with the people who turned against Crowe! Much like how there were other nobles talking bad about the queen!), I think that Crowe has SOME kind of recollection about his past of being the queen, def not to the extent that Sol has but at least SOME!! I think this because of Crowe's friends, Crowe's friend group consists of people who are "poor"(not necessarily meaning poverty in this case, but poor in terms of hard lives and scenarios being thrown at them) and Crowe is helping them and accepting them even though he once again, does not need to. He welcomes them into him life and under his wing. I also have a feeling that something is going to happen where a rumor comes up about Crowe that you can choose to leave him for, and I also wonder if his friends will leave them, they seem really loyal to him though, but in the comments on Crowe's profile the creator says that Crowe's route is a rollercoaster of emotions, and it would literally break my heart to see all/most of Crowe's friends leave him because of a rumor. I'm not too sure of this since not EVERYONE left the queen behind so they could stick by Crowes side, which is also just another reason I think MC was a farmer in their past life too since the people against the queen were seen holding pitchfork/rake. FINALLY!! I think Crowe is the queen because in the bad end, it states that Crowe's head is barely hanging on, number one guillotines cut off heads(furthering pushing Sol to be seen as the executioner!) but also royalty can ALSO be guillotined(such as Marie Antoinette!) so i think it shows that the queen was guillotined and Sol was trying to replicate that with Crowe! Also Crowe literally CRIES if you say you'll be friends with the queen and stay by her side(which i think would be even more heartbreaking for Crowe if you DID end up leaving him!)
Although I can still see Crowe and MC being switched, with MC being a royal in their past life and Crowe coming from nothing! Maybe MC being a farmer in debt was punishment for NOT helping the poor townsfolk! And Crowe also states that if the queen was nice to him, he'd be sussed out as well, maybe showing that HE WAS the commoner(if the queen was giving the commoner gifts, then maybe that's why Crowe ended up wealthy in this life!) If you choose to see the queen as a friend, Crowe says that's very noble of the MC, as expected of them, and then does not further his explanation!
Also just as a one off comment, Sol clearly likes your neck with how often he buries his face in it, but Crowe ALSO buries his face into the crook of your neck at the end of day two!!
cw TKaTB spoilers, theory, mention of guillotine, amnesia memories spoilers
TKATB and its characters belong to @fantasia-kitt !!
TKATB IS RATED +18. MINORS DONT INTERACT
Was about to post a theory about how sol could have been reincarnated to meet pumpkin again in a different timeline bc they werent allowed to be together in their own timeline, the bruise on his neck being an indication of being guillotined AND him giving purple tullips (sign of royalty and elegance) to pumpkin on valentine's, feeling insecure about his lunch (saying it isnt "extravagant" enough for pumpkin) and somehow using pardon me instead of excuse me (he doesnt usually use this type of elegant language i think. could be just me) kinda seems like we were royalty before? I mean, crowe mentioning marie antoinette and the game giving us many options for the question seems sussy to me. Why does MY opinion on the queen matter this much to both crowe and sol since their love meters go crazy with the answers? speaking of historical figures, i cant be the only one thinking sol WAS the "executioner". maybe that could be it. he was "the executioner" and we were a part of the royalty: swimming in money, expensive alcohol and the sweat of the peasants; and sol being one of them. Maybe we didnt even know who he was but him being a delusional yandere, he thought we were inseperable lovers. maybe that was why he was drawing someone in peasant clothes. He was just drawing his past life, could be the day he first saw us or the day he lost us. anything to support my theory? what inspired the game, ofc :D i was stalking fantasia's socials when i saw the game was was inspired by 3 gamea, one being Amnesia Memories (IM A HUGE FAN OF THAT SHIT). if you didnt know, amnesia memories is about a girl waking up with lost memories, trying to remember things. but bc it is an otome, she has a partner in every world she wakes up in. so if she fails to recollect her memories, she ends up in a different universe with a different partner. the relevance between tkatb and amnesia? in amnesia the final LI can also switch between different universes. he loses the mc in a fire and cant live without her. So a god helps him go to a different universe to be with her again. But everytime he goes to a universe, the world either kills the mc or him somehow. Following with pumpkin being royalty and sol not being able to live with us, what if after our death; he went to a different universe where we are classmates (equal parties!!) and now the entire purpose of his existence being, well, being with us forever?
But yknow. I decided not to post it since pretty much everyone already thinks this way! its probably what fantasia WANTS us to think to bamboozle us in the end, right? :3
P.S. not to mention his hatred for the rich. the rich and their stupid rules were the things that stopped him from being with us! but what if hyugo ALSO has switched universes along with him for his own reasons? Could this be the deal between the two, and the reason why hyugo wont allow sol to just die like that?
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Lessons In Roleplay
Lessons Series Masterpost
Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (threesome)
Summary: The boys roleplay dastardly highwayman and rescuer.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, d/s dynamics, roleplay, CNC play, gunplay, slightly rough vaginal sex, dirty talk, cuckolding play, mention of breeding, oral sex (f to m), blow job, spitroast, orgasms, aftercare.
Word Count: 4.8k
Authors Note: This is a request fill for the amazing @colettebronte, asking for some roleplay in the Lessons universe. How could I say no to that? She chose which role the boys would play. Beta read by the amazing @sorryallonsy. Gif by @captainbucky-yt. The image is not particularly relevant to the story, but they both look delicious. Enjoy! <3
“Do you really think a highwayman might have seen us?” you query, your head resting on Anthony’s chest as he strokes your hair idly. “Yesterday, in the carriage,” you clarify as Benedict lifts his head from your belly and shoots you a querying eyebrow.
You are all lying together, entwined in post-coital bliss, under a large oak on their country estate on a beautiful summer day. The day after your eventful carriage ride here with them.
Anthony’s responding chuckle vibrates under you. “Tis possible, my sweet girl,” he opines lazily, using his other hand to shield his eyes from the sun cutting through the leaves above.
Your thoughtful mien has Benedict pushing up onto his hands and hovering over you, his hazy eyes observing you with a knowing quirk on his lips.
“I think our girl likes that idea,” he intuits, always correct in his ability to read you.
“I would prefer one of you be my robber, not a stranger,” you confess, smiling when they grab one of your hands each.
“If that is what the lady wishes….perhaps such a thing can be arranged,” Benedict opines silkily, lacing your fingers with his. “Can it not, brother?”
“What are you thinking?” Anthony hums, bringing your hand to his face.
“Perhaps the old phaeton in the stable can be put to good use?” Benedict suggests, lowering himself to kiss down your ribs. “I do not see why we could not steal away somewhere within the grounds and make our sweet girl's wish come true. One of us can play the dastardly highwayman lurking by the roadside as she rides by…” he trails off, getting distracted by the softness of your skin, dropping kisses onto your belly now.
“...And one of you could play my rescuer who draws up upon horseback?” you supply, a little breathless at the images already tumbling through your mind as their lips trace over your skin.
They both chuckle at that, Anthony dropping a kiss on your forehead and Benedict onto your hipbone.
“I am more than certain that could be arranged,” Anthony confirms, an admiring twinkle in his eye as you twist to look up at him. “This evening, in fact…”
“But which would you be, my lord?”
“What do you want of me, my girl? Do you want me to be the gallant hero?” he questions, his fingers tracing your cupid’s bow before sliding between your lips; his fingers still tart with your arousal as he presses upon your tongue. “Or the man who will hold you up? Whose demands you will need to submit to? To plead to spare your life?”
“The latter,” your reply muffled around his questing fingers, a frisson low in your belly that he may fuck you by the roadside in the dead of night.
“Then I shall ride in to rescue you,” Benedict affirms, his fingers flexing between yours as you now look down at him, his chin resting low upon your stomach.
“But not too soon…” you appeal with a wink, “and I think my rescuer should help me with my pleasure too, no?”
They both laugh knowingly at that.
“Your wish is my command….” Benedict offers, nudging this nose into your belly, which now fizzes with excitement about the night ahead.
—
You dress in a delicate cerulean blue silk gown that clings like liquid satin to your bare skin, foregoing any underwear, as is so often your preference when playing with your boys. Your outfit is topped off with sparkling sapphires and diamonds draped around your neck and wrists, no doubt priceless heirlooms from the vault Anthony holds on the property.
The hallway clock softly chimes midnight just as you steal out of the servant's entrance, meeting Benedict in the courtyard by the stables, already standing ready with a horse and a small, buggy-type carriage.
“You look beautiful,” he remarks, flattery just falling from him as ever. “I assume you know how to steer a phaeton?” he checks as you draw up to him, the moonlight throwing his face into handsome relief.
You nod, and he moves aside to assist you in climbing into the simple open-top carriage with an exchange of smiles.
“You remember where to go, correct?” His voice is soft as he hands you the reins.
“Down past the lake, take the left fork, follow the hedgerow until the thicket of trees,” you parrot the agreed directions from earlier. You can only assume Anthony is already lying in wait for you there.
Benedict nods, and then his demeanour changes, leaning in, a hand curling around your neck.
“Be careful out there, my sweet. Highwaymen may lurk,” he warns, slipping effortlessly into his heroic character.
“Perhaps a kiss for good luck upon my journey…. ?” you coquette, enjoying the way his pupils dilate.
He sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss that makes your heart pound and your body tingle, his tongue warm and insistent over yours.
“Good luck, my fair lady,” he exhales as you part, taking a step back to bow with a flourish.
You giggle and shake the reins to take off, elated your evening adventure has begun.
—
It is less than five minutes later when you arrive at a copse of trees, the bright new moon illuminating the fields around you as you slip under the shadows of the mighty oaks on either side of the track.
“STAND AND DELIVER!!”
A loud, clear voice rings out as you slow your horse to a stop, belly aflutter with anticipation. Emerging from behind a tree is a tall figure dressed in a black shirt and trousers, and as he draws nearer, you see a familiar, handsome face disguised behind a simple black mask.
Anthony.
You gasp as his leather-gloved hand draws a gun from his waistband and points it at you, blood running hot at his complete commitment to the roleplay.
“I have nothing to offer you, thief!”
Your protest is exaggerated but triumphant as his gaze falls to your decolletage, swelling with each exaggerated breath, your neckline scooped intentionally low.
“Get down at once, and perhaps I will spare your life, for I know you lie,” he counters, “those jewels around your neck, I wager, are worth more than my entire house….”
In your eagerness, you stumble slightly as you climb down from the carriage, and strong hands grasp your waist and right your stance on the ground.
“Unhand me, ruffian!”
Your theatrics are met with a flicker of tacit approval across his face.
“Not until those jewels are mine, fair lady!” highwayman Anthony contends, a predatory smile that has his teeth glowing in the low light, his firm grip upon you flexing.
“Please… I'm sure you are a reasonable man,” you change tack, still heaving breaths. “I simply cannot give you these jewels. They are too precious to me. They are a gift from my love.”
Framed by the mask, his dark eyes flash possessively, and there is a slip of softness in his expression as you say such words, knowing the truth behind them.
But then his tongue pokes out, licking his incisor almost menacingly. One of his hands bands behind your back, yanking you flush against his firm body.
“Do you really think you are in any position to negotiate, my fair lady?” he withers.
Your heart quickens as he places the cold barrel of the gun to your temple.
“It is not loaded,” he whispers, a warmth behind your ribs as he breaks character for a split second of reassurance before his expression is back to flinty.
“Please….” you implore.
He ignores you, crowding you backwards into the side of the carriage, the shiny lacquered wood of the wheel spokes digging into your spine. Once trapped, the hand around your waist moves to grasp your necklace, his leather glove cold on your breastbone.
“Take this off, or I will,” he orders; it’s a resonant threat that vibrates right into your body.
“Then you shall have to, for I will not!” you spit out, struggling against him for good measure, wanting nothing more than for him to rip the jewels from your body. And then your dress.
Just as promised, he is a little rough as he manhandles you, spinning you around so your breasts are pressed into the side of the phaeton, the unmistakable heat of his arousal on your tailbone as he leans into you.
He yanks off his gloves with his teeth and brushes your hair aside, unclasping the necklace and slowly tugging one end so it falls off behind you. A frisson runs the length of your spine as his bare fingers trail down slowly over both of your arms to your wrists and flick open the hinges on the bangles there, removing them too.
“These jewels are beautiful, my lady,” he concedes, pocketing them, “but I demand more…”
“Please, brute, you have taken all I can give you!”
“Oh, but that is not true…” he rumbles hotly into the nape of your neck.
You gasp as a hand cups between your legs through your thin dress.
“Your greatest treasure is the only one I cannot take with me….”
He ruts himself into you, intent unmistakable, as his fingers curl into the fabric. The softness of the silk over your already throbbing clit has you biting your lip.
“No, please, let me go…”
You amp up your performance, pushing back into him, looking over your shoulder with a fiery challenge that belies your words.
“I demand satisfaction!”
With that, he kicks your feet apart, rucking up your dress until you feel the cool night air swirling around your buttocks and between your legs. Then there is a pause as his hand travels up your naked flesh, a hungry noise escaping his lips as he buries his nose into your hair,
“Perhaps I misjudged…” he rasps, words huffing warm over your scalp. “No stockings. Nor underwear. You are far from a lady….”
“How dare you!”
You struggle again in his grip, loving the way his hold gets more insistent, moaning loudly as his fingers curl into your folds, already leaking profusely from the moment he emerged from the trees.
“Shut up,” he gruffs, dropping the gun into the carriage in front of you. “The more you struggle, the more I will take.”
This play already has you desperate for him, blood boiling with pure want as his fingers tease your clit.
“No, you beast, I shall not give in…”
Your objection sharpens his resolve, the wool of his trousers chafing the back of your thighs as he rapidly yanks open his britches one-handed.
Your cry echoes around the tree canopy as his rigid cock roughly ploughs into your pussy from behind, the force rocking you up onto your tiptoes. The sheer stretching invasion has you grabbing the carriage for leverage, wanting to voice your approval but too committed to the role you inhabit to allow yourself.
“Please, mister, no!”
You twist to meet his eye, silently begging for him to go fast and hard, take you mercilessly as you pretend this is not every wish you had for this night. Loving the feel of his fingertips curling around the crest of your hips, readying to take you hard.
And then he does—pulling out almost entirely, then ploughing back into you harshly. Immediately setting a nearly punishing rhythm, the dirt beneath your silk shoes crunching under your foot as you rock with his motions, you calling out loudly with each jolt.
“Quiet, or I will spank you,” he warns, his face wild, even obscured behind his mask.
That’s an open invitation you are not going to refuse.
“Stop!” you yell, goadingly.
There is a stinging slap across your buttock that has you lurching, your head lolling down, a huge, unseen smile claiming your lips, little sparks of fire radiating from the point of contact, a beeline right for your clit.
“No more!” you pant, staring at the ground and rocking back into his snapped thrusts, wrenching a moan from you with every move, his cock a delicious heavy weight cleaving you open, as it always is. You could never tire of this feeling, when he takes you so hard you can only cling on for dear life.
“All I heard is more, fair lady,” he laughs darkly and spanks again, your other cheek this time, a matching handprint you feel glowing.
You pitch forward and teeth the carriage as he fucks you. His moves are harsh, grunting with each thrust. You bite down, knowing the dental imprint you leave will be a great source of pride for him, a lasting memento of just how untamed he can make you.
“Tell me you want this!” He demands, grabbing your throat and yanking you backwards, your spine flush to his front, speared deep onto his cock as he stills.
“Never!”
His hand spanks you again so forcefully your eyes roll back. He withdraws slowly, then thrusts up so deep your toes leave the ground, him supporting all of your weight. It’s always so wonderful to feel like a rag doll in his arms when he is like this, speared open, utterly malleable to his onslaught.
Suddenly, movement catches the corner of your vision, and you look askance to see Benedict approaching, shirt billowing in the wind as he rides his galloping horse majestically across the moonlit field toward you. His horse whinnies as he dismounts in an athletic leap, bounding towards you.
“UNHAND HER AT ONCE!”
His voice is a bellow the likes of which you have never heard from his before. It makes you clench reflexively around his brother’s cock, and you wonder how much jealousy is behind the following line that Anthony sneers.
“It appears you have a rescuer, my lady. How entertaining. Who is he?” Anthony demands, spinning you around to face Benedict while still buried inside you.
“My husband,” you improvise provocatively, pushing back into Anthony.
It’s not something you had discussed with them for the roleplay, merely that Benedict would be your rescuer. But the look of unbridled desire that engulfs his face as you bestow him as such for this scene makes your lungs catch, his whole body puffing out with pride.
“Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Wife.”
Each word is its own sentence, his voice dripping with possession and intent, inhabiting outrage so perfectly.
“Too late,” Anthony snarls back. “I am already inside her, and she is thoroughly enjoying it. Her smart mouth may protest, but she is positively flooding over me.”
That triumphant verbal swipe makes you stutter. Evidently, Anthony has been taking notes from his poetic, dirty-talking younger brother, who stands before you now, a quake in his being that could be a husband’s rage, but you know to be pent-up desire—his gaze trained on your exposed lower half.
“Wrong…” Benedict growls, taking a large step forward, pressing into your front so you are sandwiched between them. Your very favourite place to be. “She may be drenched, but you are not the cause, merely the beneficiary.”
Benedict’s sizeable right hand curls into the hair at the nape of your neck as he stakes his claim on you with his words and deeds: drawing you into a plundering kiss, the outline of his cock growing harder, pressing hot into your belly, before he breaks away to continue speaking.
“She is my obedient little one,” he proclaims, cupping your jaw to make you stare up at him, even as Anthony’s cock rocks deeper into your pussy, challenging his claim. “As soon as she so much as scents me in her periphery, she is dripping down to her dainty ankles. And that is why she is mine. My wife.”
Benedict’s resonant cadence vibrates your chest and has you swaying, desperate for him as well. You feel Anthony twist a fraction to grab something from the carriage behind him, still rock hard inside you.
“Do you forget, Sir, who has the true weapon here? Anthony challenges.
The cold barrel of the gun is pressed to your temple again.
You mouth the words not loaded to Benedict, and he responds in kind, I know, before stepping back and holding his hands up in faux capitulation.
“Please,” Benedict changes tack, “take our jewels, but please do not harm my wife…”
You are enthralled by this—the planning they must have done together to execute this and how effortlessly they both inhabit their characters. A collaboration that speaks to their growing acceptance of each other as equals in this dynamic. Even though you can see the lines blurring as they goad each other within the roleplay, spectres of their past power dynamic, where Anthony would taunt Benedict with you, setting rules that always gave him the upper hand.
“I have already ruined her,” Anthony smirks, thrusting once for good measure and making you moan before stilling again. “But I shall offer you a deal…”
“Anything…” Benedict pleads, utterly convincing now as the distressed, cuckolded husband.
“You may watch me fuck her, plant my seed in her, and I will be happy to leave empty-handed.”
“Or…?” Benedict prompts, sensing an alternative.
“You may join me in taking her. I will not seed her, but I will depart with every single one of your jewels,” Anthony declares, nodding to Benedict’s ring on his little finger.
“Wife…. I shall let you choose.” Benedict's eyes scoot to you, still embodying his role, but his gaze pleading to let him in on the fun.
Silently, you hold out your hand to him, inviting him in. He takes it, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles briefly in reassurance.
“You have a deal, highwayman,” Benedict concedes to Anthony, pointedly removing his signet ring and handing it over your shoulder.
Anthony pulls out of you, making you whine at the loss, a droplet of wetness trickling down your thigh as he spins you around to face him.
“I think your wife should be naked, would you not agree?” Anthony posits, his fingers trailing your scooped neckline to the swell of your breast as he gives an order: “Undress her for me.”
Wordlessly, you feel Benedict plucking at the buttons over your spine. As they relent, he moves to tug the slackened fabric down off your torso, and the blue silk flutters to the ground, a shiver running over your skin as a cool breeze swirls around your naked body.
Anthony sucks in a breath, taking a half-step back, his eyes raking covetously over your naked skin.
“You permit your wife to parade in public without any undergarments?” he chides, his tone dripping with judgment.
“Permit her?” Benedict chuckles, bemused.
You inhale sharply as he wraps an arm around you, hauling you snugly backwards into his frame, his long fingers then spidering down your lower belly, right into your damp slit.
“I veritably insist upon it,” he gloats. “And she is more than keen…”
His teeth catch your earlobe as you whimper and writhe on his touch, little sparks of pleasure pinging around your body.
“Always so ready for me, are you not, my darling wife?”
You twist to meet his gaze as you nod obediently, and he rewards you with a crooked smile and a light pinch to your engorged clit that makes you cry out for him, punctuating his point. You yearn for him to take you roughly, needing this husband version he plays so well to claim you as his.
“You are a lucky man, betrothed to such an eager little vixen,” Anthony concedes, staring you down, provocatively wiping his lip with his thumb, hunger barely contained as he watches you ride his brother's fingers. “Perhaps she can lick clean the mess she made of me while you take your pleasure?” he adds casually.
“I will do it,” you volunteer brightly, almost preemptively, and far too enthusiastically for being held ‘hostage’.
“Come now, sweet girl, at least try to act as if you are mildly perturbed by our predicament…” Benedict deadpans genially, his fingers stilling as he breaks character, and Anthony chuckles, looking equally entertained by your outburst.
“Sorry…” you whisper over a giggle, and it earns you a quick kiss on the cheek from both of them, their eyes glittering with amusement. “Please continue…”
Benedict slides his fingers out from between your legs, you whining from the loss. But you soon quieten as you realise he is unbuttoning his trousers, knuckles brushing your bottom as he peels them open just enough to free himself, veritably pulsing for the promise of his cock too.
“Bend over and suckle him, wife,” he orders, back in his role, knowing how much you adore detailed filthy instruction from him.
“Yes, husband,” you demure, lowering yourself as requested, widening your stance as you do so—a blatant invitation for him to take you.
“What an excellent, obedient thing,” Anthony observes, his hand gliding into your hair as you peel his trousers open further, pressing your face into his crotch before sucking his tip between your lips, glazed with your arousal.
“She’s a wonder,” Benedict concurs.
Anthony’s fingers flex on your scalp, and his thumb rounds your jaw to pull down your chin, opening you wider. He thrusts into your mouth; your hands cling to his muscular thighs as his tip nudges the roof of your mouth, tongue pressed into his underside.
He groans loudly, your tastebuds flooded with your tart juices and a bead of his salty precum. He withdraws then drives back in, nudging deeper this time, knowing it always makes you mindless, his grip solid on your head as he starts to fuck into your mouth. It has you squirming with supplicant need, begging Benedict silently for his cock, too, as he teases your slit, grinding his head over your clit.
Your call is entirely muffled around Anthony as Benedict finally takes pity on you, thrusting deep into your pussy, in one rapid, forceful move. Both ends of your body are utterly invaded, one of your favourite places to be, a carnal loop of pleasure that only they can provide. Anthony’s hands are heavy on your scalp as Benedict's grasp your hips almost punishingly tight—something so thrilling about you being bent over entirely naked between their clothed bodies. They work together to ensure maximum pleasure for you, intuiting your needs, Anthony withdrawing just as you need to draw breath but always keeping you singing with need, his cock something to muffle your noises, to suckle upon as they both drive you higher.
You sag into their hold, relying on them to keep you balanced, pliant to the push and pull of your being between these men as they use you just as you want them to. Entirely possessed by them, played expertly by both as if an instrument for all of your mutual pleasure. Always intuiting your needs, Benedict reaches down, pulling your arms backwards flush with the sides of your body, twining his fingers in yours, a possessive hold that means you have no purchase to prevent Anthony’s thrusts into your mouth.
Benedict’s pace builds slowly, his cock grinding all those places deep inside only they can reach. His thrusts that cleave you open timed perfectly, his fingers curled over the pulse point on your wrist, syncopating his movements with each beat of your heart.
Anthony groans, causing his cock to vibrate as it passes through the tight ring of your lips. The tingle has you moaning too, a call and response that notches things higher.
“I will not last,” Anthony grits out, teeth clenched, his fingernails digging into your scalp, his thrusts into your mouth urgent now, barely allowing you any reprieve.
“Do as you will…” Benedict grunts, his noises guttural as you clench around him, a vice that has him dropping your wrists, sensing how close you are, too. One of his hands grabs your hip roughly as the other ploughs into your slit, catching your swollen, throbbing clit.
He changes angle to spear deeper, harsher, and you scream around Anthony’s cock, which fills your mouth now, breathing harshly through your nose as he uses you mercilessly.
“Look at me,” Anthony commands, grabbing your head to tilt your face upwards, his cock tip grinding the roof of your mouth, your hands again on his wool trousers for leverage as you stare wide-eyed up at his handsome face, angular and determined.
“So fucking beautiful,” he croaks, his thumb rounding to blot the tear forming in the corner of your eye from not wanting to blink.
“Better and more priceless than any jewel,” Benedict taunts, still impressively embodying his role, each word heaved over a breath, “and all mine.”
The possession with which he growls that last word, plunging harder than he ever has, is the catalyst for all of you. The vibration of your scream around Anthony’s cock as Benedict glances at your hilt is what tips him over. A heavy pulse travels up the length of his cock, and his fingernails cirls into your scalp as he comes, a salty rope splashing into your throat that you swallow reflexively as Benedict's fingers and cock send you over the edge, your vision whiting out, as your whole body convulses, strong hands bandying around you to hold you upright as your knees almost give out, everything in your snapping taut as you come so hard you swear stars dance before your eyes. With an almost howl, Benedict roughly pulls out of your convulsing pussy, a warmth splashing over your lumbar spine as you all pant loudly.
Before you are fully cognisant, strong arms pull you into an embrace. You recover, caged by Benedict, his chest warm against your spine as he murmurs sweet words in your ear. In front of you, Anthony refastens his trousers, pulling the gems from his coat pocket, still impressively in character.
“I shall greatly enjoy the spoils of this evening,” he taunts, holding them up so they sparkle in the moonlight. “But, if you should ever wish to share your wife again, you know where to find me…”
“How do you know I will not tell others of your location? Force you to move your despicable, criminal activities elsewhere?” Benedict counters as you drowsily enjoy their little theatrical, continuing purely for your amusement.
“Because of the way your wife is looking at me…” Anthony crows, stepping forward again to run a finger over your chin and swollen, darkened lips as he repockets the loot. “As if she wishes to ride away with me as much as she wishes to remain with you.”
He draws you in for a fierce, possessive kiss, you gasping heavily, pliant under his invasion, still dazed from your orgasm.
“Perhaps one day, if you are a good little thing for me, you could even earn your jewels back…” Anthony contends. “Until then, I bid you adieu…” he signs off, bowing, then turning heel and disappearing into the night.
—
A few minutes later, Anthony saunters back from bridling the additional horse onto the phaeton. Himself again, the roleplay scene over.
“Our poor girl cannot wear this; 'tis too caked in dirt and mud now,” he rues, no trace of the menacing highwayman to be found in his tone as he scoops your trampled dress up from the dirt track.
“We will just have to keep her warm for the ride back, brother,” Benedict advocates.
Anthony hums in agreement, chivalrously whipping off his shirt and helping you into it with affectionate kisses. After a quiet spell in their joint embrace - always your favourite place to recover from such vigorous adventures - they both tenderly assist you up into the carriage, arranging you snugly between them upon the simple bench seat. Both wrap their free arm around you as they grab a horse rein each. You burrow into their comforting presence as the carriage trundles away at a leisurely pace.
“Did you enjoy our roleplay, my girl?” Anthony checks, tone laden with affection, as Benedict turns to kiss your forehead tenderly.
“Yes, you were both so wonderful, exactly as I had hoped and more. Thank you,” you sigh contentedly, nuzzling into them both in turn.
“I cannot wait to hear of your other fantasies, sweet girl. I assume you have many more,” Benedict guesses, accurate as always.
“I am rather taken by the idea of adventure on the high seas with two swashbuckling buccaneers…” you confess, even as you have to stifle a yawn, the sway of the carriage and their warmth soporific.
“Well, after you have had some good rest, my darling girl, perhaps I will seek out our grandfather’s cutlass…” Anthony offers as he laughs genially.
You perk up, and your head pings between them. “Is that a promise?”
“Most definitely,” they answer in unison, two pairs of amused, sparkling eyes meeting yours as the beauty of Aubrey Hall hones into view in your periphery.
You cannot wait.
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I linked a post below that has me thinking about Tommy's actions & Eddie's place in the narrative. In retrospect, I 100% believe Tommy knows and understands that Eddie is likely going to be Buck's last. (as much as anybody can know this sort of thing.) I know Tim and Oliver said Eddie had nothing to do with the obstacles in Buck's relationship, but I think that was a partial truth on their part. Technically, Buck does spiral because of Abby and #stagefoureddiediaz has talked about the way Buck is still stuck on the hamster wheel. I think both of these things are part of the obstacles mentioned in one of Oliver's interviews. However, if you look only at those things, you overlook the Pink Eddie in the room. While I agree that Eddie didn't interfere or try to stop Buck & Tommy from being together, his friendship with Buck has remained a constant. (see the link at the very bottom for more about Eddie in the narrative.) If you check out Buddielifer's post, several good points demonstrate the breakup was about Eddie. I'll try to avoid repeating what was said there as I explain. My opinion does differ on a few small points, but I'll get to that later.
Ok. I'm going to talk about Tommy a little but stick with me. This is a Buddie post. I promise, and I do have a point. I do believe Buck was attracted to Tommy, not because he had some great destiny to be the love of Buck's life, but because he did a few really cool things while helping to save Bobby & Athena's lives. Plus, Tommy did it in the coolest way possible. Helicopter pilots are cool, or they would be if they weren't dating one-half of your favorite ship. lol. Before the kiss, Buck wasn't self-aware enough to fully engage with his sexuality, I suspect that he handled his attraction to Tommy the way he handled it with other men before we knew him as a firefighter.
As we saw in a flashback, when Buck met a man he felt attracted to, he processed those feelings by befriending him. It was the same with Tommy. That is why he was at the hangar that day. When he offered to buy Tommy a beer, I truly think Buck thought he was making a new friend. If you think about it, you can see this was a pattern for Buck. He did have a meltdown over Eddie when they first met (but with Eddie, bigger things were and are still in play) It doesn't change the fact that once Buck got past his initial jealousy or whatever that was, he threw himself all in with Eddie. It was part of his pattern and part of #stagefour's hamster wheel. (Endgame will have Buck get off the wheel and look around. The person standing there was never part of the wheel, but the person waiting for him to stop and get off of it.)
The situation with Tommy is probably closer to how Buck reacted to his friend who wanted Buck as a sperm donor. Buck actually followed that 'friend' to Peru. I have a post from a while back where I discuss Buck sending mixed signals. In his mind, he is making a friend, but he is also unconsciously flirting. Tommy was the first to push through and just kiss Buck. I don't think this was nefarious so much as an attempt to interpret the signals Buck was sending. (I'm sure many see Tommy as having bad intentions but stick with me. I'm trying to put him into the context where Tim claimed he wanted him to be seen. Tommy was supposed to be a mentor or a more experienced man helping Buck navigate this side of himself.) As a teacher, Tommy did help him navigate, but he also let Buck set the pace. Although never shown, we know Buck is a very sexual being, and the deleted scene with Tommy, Hen, and Karen confirmed that Tommy was just trying to keep up with him.
But I digress. Buck's intention to befriend Tommy ended the exact moment that Eddie showed up at the hangar with a huge smile on his face. Stoic Eddie who does not show his emotions was smiling hugely. Even though this is from Buck's perspective and he is an unreliable narrator, it is plausible to me that Eddie would be excited to go to a live fight in Vegas. Oliver and Tim have talked a lot over the past few weeks about how Buck spirals. When Eddie left with Tommy, Buck began to spiral in a way that we have never seen before or since. He was absolutely unhinged with jealousy. There is no way that Buck, who didn't even ask about Tommy's dating history until six months into the relationship, was that insane to get the attention of a man he has known for a few days or weeks. Now that we are pulling in new material from the current season, it isn't even remotely believable that Buck's reaction was about Tommy.
If Buck had experienced some sort of love-at-first-sight moment with Tommy, then he would have asked Tommy about his past at the beginning of the relationship. In fact, people entering into something serious generally ask about past partners in the first few weeks of getting to know each other or before sex. The fact that Buck didn't, is a change in pattern for him. Buck typically throws himself all in and then when things go wrong, he doesn't know how he got there. (Also part of the hamster wheel.) However, I attribute the difference this time to the fact that, subconsciously, Buck knows what he's feeling. He can use his body. (borderline sex addict). However, he can't bring himself to share with Tommy what he already shares with Eddie, but you know our unaware cowboy can't see it yet.
At the hangar, Tommy didn't have a feel for Buck yet. However, by the end of the Vegas trip, I think he had picked up a good idea from Eddie that there was something there. (not because Eddie has made some sort of confession, but because I'm confident that Eddie talked about Buck nonstop. I'm hoping that we get some sort of confirmation of this in the current season. I don't want it to be forgotten.) At any rate, whatever conclusions Tommy drew from his time in Vegas with Eddie and the time they spent hanging out afterward didn't bother him enough to refuse to date Buck. I do think Tommy was longing for the family and support he could see Buck has with the 118, but I don't think he was ever planning a wedding in his head. In fact, I know he wasn't. That's part of why he broke up with Buck.
Sidenote: (Thanks to StageFourEddieDiaz, for pointing out how Buck failed to understand the mission from Josh's speech because this is what caused Buck to shift from not letting Tommy get too close to asking Tommy to move in with him.) Until the conversation with Josh, Buck was actively shutting Tommy out of anything other than sex and possibly learning the ins and outs of the LGBTQ community.
Again, in the beginning, this didn't bother Tommy. He knew what Buck needed, and as he stated a few times during the sixth episode, Buck was hot and fun. If you need examples of Buck shutting Tommy out, I point you to anything that happened in the Halloween episode. I'm not saying Buck didn't care about Tommy at all, but he was holding back. The look on Buck's face as Josh asked about his feelings really said it all. I think this is probably why Josh was a little shy of the mark when giving his speech about comphet. Josh had to give a long list of, "Do you feel "this or that" for your boyfriend of six months," before he finally hit on something that Buck did feel. I don't want to get off topic or repeat too much from the linked post, I just wanted to illustrate that the jealousy from Buck's coming out episode was 100% for Eddie and that it was something that Tommy realized before entering the relationship.
I know there will be some disagreement here, but I also feel like Tommy's feelings for Buck actually were on the verge of changing, and he hadn't expected that. When they were standing at the grave, Buck gave his eulogy directed to Billy Boils. Tommy's face went through a series of changes. First, he seemed annoyed or concerned. I couldn't quite tell, but the more Buck talked, the more you could see of our Buck. The guy with a huge heart who can empathize with the skeletal remains of a criminal. I'll link the clip for you to judge. What Buck had to say to Billy was more open and revealed more about Buck's character than anything he had been saying to Tommy over the past six months. It was a small scene, but one that probably came back to Tommy when Buck suggested moving in together.
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It was scenes like this one combined with Tommy's exclusion from group chat, etc., that probably helped to remind him that Buck's feelings six months ago were not about him and nothing had changed despite Buck's suggestion that he move in. Tommy's insecurities took over and reminded him what the inevitable end was going to be for them. He was the first not the last.
For the past six months, he's known that Eddie was between them, but you could see how comfortable he was with it. He didn't seem annoyed by Eddie's presence at all. I disagree with either Tim or Oliver when they try to play up that Tommy was Eddie's friend and this was natural. Eddie and Buck met Tommy at the same time, and Tommy was trying to shoot his shot by taking Eddie to Vegas. I don't know what was discussed between Eddie & Tommy during those few weeks where Buck was being left out, but it is clear that whatever conclusion he had drawn from the Vegas trip had been solidified by what happened on the basketball court, so much so that he wanted to apologize to Buck in person. We all know how that went, and I still think that was a good scene.
This brings me to the breakup scene itself. In the end, when Tommy talks about how he didn't see it coming. I don't think he was referring to the breakup. I think he was referring to the feelings he caught close to the end. He thought he would help Buck, provide a safe space for Buck to explore that he personally didn't have, and have some fun with a hot young thing, but he let it go too far. (His reasons are pretty much part of what Tim has said in interviews.) I don't think Tommy realized how much he had gotten caught up in the fantasy of Buck until Buck asked him to move in with him. I do think he's sincere when he says his heart would end up broken because, despite his feelings, he still understands there is something between Buck and Eddie even if they don't.
(One side note. I agree with Buck that first and last can be the same thing. I don't buy into the belief that you have to be with dozens of sexual partners, but I also don't think that would have been the case with Buck. He is a sexual character, and he's openly curious. I know people were mad about the interview where Oliver talked about letting Buck F#ck, but I think that would be in character for an upset Buck who was just dumped. It is less about his sexuality than it is about his abandonment issues and neglect trauma. That's my take anyway. We'll see what Tim does with it. I do think the part of Buck that craves monogamy already belongs to someone else, and the di was cast before Tommy came into his life, and we are back again to the hamster wheel.)
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If you stuck with me this long, thank you. I know there are few, if any, fans of Tommy around here so I appreciate that you were willing to objectively view him the way Tim kept trying to present him. I'm tired and I'm pretty sure I rambled a couple of times, but I do understand Tommy is a problematic character. I consider that to be a writing issue that never got a satisfying resolution. I'm equally aware some people hate him simply because he was with Buck. I'm not doing a lot of judging these days because I already know how unreasonable I'm going to be over Eddie being with another man. After seven seasons of subtext, they are already in love. These other relationships are like cheating. lol I'm not so secretly hoping that if Eddie needed a "first" he got it when he was a teenager or when he was in Afghanistan.
I can tell I'm going to be bad because when I see posts about Eddie sleeping with a priest, I want to scream into a pillow and pretend that I'm flipping over furniture and tossing chairs across the room. I just can't be reasonable. I would never attack the actors or writers though. That's not me. My jealousy is on Buck's behalf, and my bad behavior remains entirely inside my head. I don't know what they'll do with Eddie, but they are going to need a chat group to make sure Eddie's boyfriends do not meet with Buck's subconscious mind.
Click here to see the meta on Eddie Haunting the Narrative from #buddielifers.
#911 abc#buddie#ryan guzman#oliver stark#buck buckley#eddie diaz#911 spoilers#speculation really#Youtube
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