#like he had just left buck replaced him

[wolvesofinnistrad]

So who's doing the series rewrite where Tommy forgot something at the station and runs into First day on the job Buck and everything changes?

[obxsprincess]

warnings ; toxic references, degradation

”pretty thing ain’t ya pogue” rafe hissed in your ear — fat tip pushing in your sopping pussy. his hickies all over your body, which he had you bent over his couch cushion like a rag doll. thighs jerked around his waist, your tits pressed against the plush couch as his dick slid into your puffy walls

“and fuckin’ tight,” rafes words were so filthy you uncontrollably clenched around his cock. sucking him in even deeper and yet pushing him out. he grunted in response. “fucking do that again and ‘m cumming inside you - damn you want that don’t you baby?” his hand pulled your forehead so you were looking at him — the mere size of his cock making water pool in your lash line. his slow, taunting thrusts left your mind deliciously blank.

“c-cameron we auh auh- cant!” the fact you even got it out surprised you both, yet only made the bastard smirk. “sure I can, you don’t have a say baby’ I’m doing you a favor slut, let’s not forget that, yea’?” a moan slipped from your lips as his hips began to slap into your ass — many moans as he pushed down on your back, thrusting your hips up even higher he hit your sweet spot perfectly “god, such a fucking shame your a pogue, prettiest slut I’ve ever seen. never had kook cock have you, mhm?” you knew he was enjoying the taunts far to much, but his heavy balls slapping against your clit truly blurred out any scoffs you could have resided to. instead being replaced by dirty gasps and moans — all falling from your drool kissed lips. it was answer enough — and he fucking loved it.

“good cause’ mines the only one you’ll ever gonna have, pogue” the words disappeared in your mind before they even set it, the feeling of his tip thrusting right into your g spot triggered your electric laced climax. cunt walls quivering around his dick — balls deep in your squelching pussy.

“p-pull out” you tried to manage — your blurry tinged head barely doing anything to truly protest. it just felt so good.

in an instant, he pried your legs from his waist and pushed your hips down onto the couch — prone boning you from the back as you felt him lick a strike up the side of your neck. “don’t tell a kook what to do baby” the words almost registered right before he slammed to the hilt once more — his tip twitched against your cervix, a deep groan leaving his throat as his cum leaked down your clenching cunt. “f-fuck you rafe” you panted. feeling him collapse gently on top of you, peeling your sweat brimmed hair from your neck as he layed another purple mark. “your hot when your mad, pogue,” you gasped as he kneeled behind you — thrusting his cum deeper into you, holding it in. “but say it again sweetheart and I’ll make sure every one of your filthy fucking friends knows you belong to me,” you were exhausted — and yet his greedy fingers found your clit, circling it just to prove his point. so sensitive from the touch you bucked against him. “none of them fuck you like I do, do they baby? yea’ none of them ever fuckin’ will”

a/n : toxic rafe just does things to me… carnally. I needed to write a quick blurb lmao. imagining he saw you at a party and well… it’s rafe hehe

[moeyynorris]

She Tastes Like Home

Lando Norris x F!Reader

Warnings: smut (oral f!receiving). That’s it. That’s all it really is. Oh, and it’s not very well edited because I’m lazy. Sorry.

Lando grinned the moment he walked through the hotel bathroom door, fresh and clean from his shower. Practice 2 had been frustrating, but he got info for the team so they could sort out the problems. Things were going to work out, everything was going to be ok.

Which is why you were confused by Lando’s solemn expression… until it clicked.

The two of you had been in Japan for 4 days now, having gotten there a bit early so you could see the sights. But, that was 4 days away from the comfort zone you both called home.

That was it; Lando was homesick.

“Come lay with me, baby,” you begged with a whisper, patting the spot on the bed beside you. A sweet yet devilish smile answered you as Lando slowly made his way over to you. His emerald gaze darkened as he stopped at the end of the bed, taking in your form. His eyes lingered on the white, semi-sheer cami you loved to sleep in. Then, they trailed down to the matching panties, licking his lips.

You re-captured Lando’s gaze. “See something you like, handsome?”

His lips parted as he drank you in. Then, he leaned forward, arching his bare torso over the edge of the bed. His long fingers gripped the sheet slightly as he pulled himself towards you.

A lightly calloused palm caressed your knee, urging it away from the other. Lando bit his bottom lip as he hoisted himself forward one last time, his face hovering over the thin material that hid his prize.

“Lando—“ you breathed, begging him to say something. He peered up at you through curled lashes.

“I love you,” he managed, something between a whisper and a growl. Your breath huffed out of you.

“I love you t—“ your word ended in a low moan as Lando’s finger traced up your clothed slit. He slid his finger up and down, smirking as your body tensed.

Your hummed and gasped as he continued, seeming to enjoy just watching you, how you reacted to his mere touch.

“I need to—“ he groaned as he reached up and tugged your panties down. You lifted up so he could get them completely off you. The moment they were off, he left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses up each of your thighs. Then, he hovered over your wet heat, his breath sending shivers over your hot skin.

“Lando, please.” Thats all he needed. He slipped a finger through your slick, then another, parting your folds. His thumb found your swollen clit and began to slowly roll circles over the nub. Your back arched as you let out a whimper.

His tongue finally flicked at the glistening flesh, before he flattened his tongue and slowly slid up your folds. “Mmmm,” he hummed, licking the slick from his lips. “You taste like home,” he groaned. He went in for another long taste of you, his thumb quickening its pace.

“Lando, oh—“ you gasp, wiggling under him. His free hand pinned your hip down, holding you still. Then, he replaced his thumb with his tongue, the muscle swirling over your swollen nub.

A raspy moan left you as a finger toyed with your entrance. It entered you, only half way, then he pulled it back out. You bucked against his grasp, desperate for friction. He grinned against your folds, then gave you what you wanted.

Two fingers squeezed their way deep inside you. He pulled them out, then thrusted them back in. He quickly found a rhythm, thrusting and curling while his tongue rubbed and swirled against you.

You bucked and wiggled against him, quickly feeling your release closing in. You reached down, grasping onto his wild curls as he savored you.

His head rose up, blackened eyes meeting yours. “C’mon baby. Cum for me.” Lando licked his glistening lips and grinned, watching your body as it inched closer to bliss. “C’mon my love.” He licked another stripe over your folds before getting back to work.

Within seconds, you felt a throbbing in your core. His fingers, his eyes, his flexing muscles, his tongue. It was all too much.

Your back arched as the first wave hit you. You bucked against Lando’s merciless effort, whimpering and moaning his name as you rode each wave. He continued his dance as you writhed beneath him, grasping his locks, your other hand in the bed sheets.

“Oh my god,” you huffed as you came down. Lando lifted his head and pulled his hands away. You whined at the loss of touch.

“Oh no, Lando is just fine,” he teased, shooting you a wink. You rolled your eyes and whined as you wiggled under him again.

He chuckled. “Oh, impatient are we?” You huffed in frustration. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m just getting started.”

[catscidr]

// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //

i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k

blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.

you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.

you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.

the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.

he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.

“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.

your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.

he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.

“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.

he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.

“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.

you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?

gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.

the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.

it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!

he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.

but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?

every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.

though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.

“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.

“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.

the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.

“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.

sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.

“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.

“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.

boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him

he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!

you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).

boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.

(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)

he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.

it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.

so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.

“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.

“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.

watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.

“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.

you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.

“so… got another round in ya?”

[spencahreadreid]

A moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me.

smutsmutsmut!! i've never written smut before, if something's wrong please let me know!! giving head (spencer receiving), no y/n, no gender specificity, a little rushed, no idea how many words, send asks!!

"There you go, honey.. take it all" Spencer's voice is almost shaky, guiding you by your hair further down onto his cock, stopping when you gag. But after a minute you began moving on your own, letting your spit dribble down to the base, your plans are ruined when he grips harder to that fistful of hair and pushes you down.

This doesn't happen without the relentless murmurs and whimpers of "oh baby, I'm sorry..". Along with multiple praises of "yes my sweet, taking me so well." Either way, the sudden vocal approach was different, and it just spurred you on further, humming out a moan. A simple thing clearly had a huge impact on the man above you, hips bucking, leading to a cough as you pulled away.

Strands of saliva that once connected you to his flushed red tip, broke and retracted back, leaving a clear, bubbly line of drool dripping from your bottom lip. His thumb came down wiping softly over the substance before pushing it back into your mouth. Accepting it, you pushed forward, sucking lightly on the digit before pulling off with a lewd 'pop'.

Taking initiative, lifting your soft hands, the ones he loved and kissed tenderly on the first date were soon wrapped around him. It was different to your mouth, but a gasp still left him at the contact, he was grateful for anything at this point. As your tugs slowly lessened, you could tell he was missing the warmth and wetness of your perfect mouth around him.

So you gave him what you wanted, parting your soft lips, replacing your hands with the familiar sensation, lightly grazing your teeth against the tip. "Fuck, please-" he sounded strained, desperate. Usually it was you under him, begging for his touch, hips bucking and pleading for him. No matter how much you missed that, him taking care of you, it still felt good to get him off.

That feeling inside him was clearly increasing, he twitched inside your mouth when you'd taken him further into your throat. His hips bucked and he was almost immediately gone, even then, he was still gentle, still cared for you. "I'm gonna cum, baby I'm- please!". Tears were welling up in your eyes, gag reflex being abused over and over, slightly blurring the face of pure ecstasy above you.

Clearly he was holding back, not wanting to surprise you with cumming down your throat without warning. You nodded the best you could and it was over for him, two more light thrusts and the coil snapped. Hot, white spurts of his release coated your tongue, already half pulling off him when Spencer had grabbed onto your head. Keeping you where he wanted you, the salty liquid had spurted up and onto your face, there he was, watching in awe.

Your lips, cheek, some on your nose. Smiling down at you, he took a second to admire the way you looked on your knees between his thighs. On the ground, hands on your own lap, staring up with those big wide eyes of yours.

"Oh look at you, so messy.. who did that?" You both laughed at his comment, clearly he found himself hilarious. "You di-" unable to finish your sentence, breaking into a fit of coughing and struggled breaths. Immediately, he was concerned, and felt extremely guilty.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I'm so sorry.." caressing your cheek softly with his thumb, the night ended quickly with a hot tea brewing, more to soothe your throat than anything. With tea finished, arms around your waist, laying under the covers staring each other in the eyes. Almost like cheesy teens, TV softly lighting up the room, also serving as a light background noise. Soon, tiredness took over both of you, your eyes starting to droop before his.

"It's alright, just rest for me.."

[loulovingho]

The Fight

Tommy calmed himself before he walked into the station. Closed his eyes and did the breathing technique he'd learned in therapy years ago.

They needed to talk about this. He couldn't handle it if something happened during Buck's shift and the last words they had spoken to each other were in anger.

He spotted Buck fairly quickly. He was in the middle of a workout, sitting on a bench and lifting weights. Although it looked like he was mostly talking to Eddie.

Eddie, who was standing in front of him, nodding his head as Buck spoke.

Eddie eyed Tommy first. “Buck,” he said in the middle of Buck's rant.

“-and I- I don't think that's fair, Eddie. It's not fair of him to- to treat me like I'm a child-”

“Buck,” Eddie repeated, louder this time.

Buck groaned. “What?”

Eddie pointed behind him. “Tommy.”

Buck froze, then slowly turned to see Tommy standing behind him, staring at him. After a brief glance, Buck cast his eyes downward.

“Hey, man,” Eddie greeted. Buck rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Eddie,” Tommy replied. “Mind if I talk to Evan for a second?”

“Nope. I'll be upstairs.”

Tommy watched as Eddie headed upstairs, waiting until he was out of earshot to turn back to Buck. “What are you doing here, Evan?” he asked.

Buck placed the weights he had resting on his thighs down on the ground. “Working.”

“Your shift doesn't even start for another twelve hours.”

Buck got up and began placing weight plates on the barbell. “I asked Bobby if I could do a twenty-four instead. He said yes.”

“You literally told me two days ago that they weren't allowing overtime right now.”

“Did you really come all the way here to keep fighting with me?”

“First of all, I'm not the one who started the fight,” Tommy said, stepping closer, “and I'm not the one who can't look their boyfriend in the eyes.”

Buck stopped messing with the barbell and glared up at Tommy. His eyes were red, although Tommy couldn't tell if it was from crying or rage. “Better?” he asked bitingly.

“Yeah, actually, it is. It's a great improvement from you walking out on me this morning.”

Buck crossed his arms defensively. “There wasn't anything left to say.”

“I strongly disagree. We've both talked about this before, Evan. How you don't like the feeling of people walking out on you. How it scares you, makes you worry. Did you forget I told you the same thing? How it reminds me of what my dad did to my mom and me over and over again?”

Tommy swore he could see a twinge of guilt flash through Buck's eyes, but it was quickly replaced with more anger.

He moved closer to Tommy. “I wasn't going to sit at your place and be berated for however long you decided to yell at me-”

“I was not yelling.”

“-for doing my job.”

Now it was Tommy's turn to fill with a new wave of rage. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it back, pursing his lips as he thought over his words. “You were not doing your job, Evan,” Tommy spoke slowly, carefully. “You made a bad decision that could have gotten you killed.”

Buck scoffed. “Danger is part of the job, Tommy. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Tommy felt like pulling his hair out. They'd had this whole argument a few hours earlier. No matter what he said, he couldn't seem to get through to Buck. “You ran into a burning building without your gear, Evan! There were other firefighters there, but you just ran in! You could have died!”

“But I didn't! God, Tommy, you're acting like I'm a baby! I've been doing this for years; I know what I'm capable of!”

Tommy brought a hand to his forehead, pressing against his temple. This was pointless. “I don't even know why I came here,” he said with a shrug. He gave Buck one last glance before turning to leave.

“Still don't know why you're angry at me for saving someone's life!” Buck called out to him as he headed for the door.

The words made Tommy turn on his heels. “You really don't know why I'm angry with you?!” he asked. The question came out harsher than he intended.

Buck stood his ground. “No, I don't!”

“Unbelievable!” Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Because I love you, Evan!” he exclaimed. “I love you so damn much! So, yeah, it makes me a little angry when I see that you aren't in this as much as I am. That you don't love yourself enough to care if you come back home!”

Buck felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. It took him a second to find his voice again. “You... You love me?”

“Of course I do, Evan.” Tommy spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Have for quite a while now.”

Buck moved closer to him. “You don't think I- I'm in it as much as you?”

Tommy let out a deep breath. “I didn't mean it like that,” he said, his voice calmer now. “I just meant... I always try my damndest to make it back to you, every shift. Every call I go on, you're in the front of my mind. Be safe for Evan, stay focused for Evan, make it home because Evan will be there waiting. And I don't expect you to love me back or anything like that, but it would be nice to know that you try to make it home to me too.”

“I do,” Buck replied earnestly. “I do try, Tommy. I- I, when I was on that call, I ran back in because of you.”

Any anger left in Tommy's body was replaced with confusion. “What?”

“The guy I went in for, his- his boyfriend was yelling for him. He was panicked, like he- he would go insane if something had happened to him. All I could think about was you. How I'd go crazy if you were in a burning building and I- I couldn't get to you. I couldn't think of doing this life without you, Tommy. So, I ran in. And, I mean, you can ask Bobby, I'm not careless like that anymore, not like I used to be. And I do love you, Tommy. I love you so much it scares me. I promise I'm in this with yo-”

Before Buck could even process it, Tommy had cleared the space between them. He brought his hands to Buck's face pulled him in for a kiss.

Buck couldn't help the surprised moan that escaped him as Tommy pressed himself even closer. Buck grabbed onto Tommy's shirt, tugging on it like he was desperate for more.

It wasn't until tongues got involved that there was the sound of a throat being cleared behind them.

They stopped, both breathing heavily, then turned back to see the rest of the team watching them from upstairs.

“I knew you two lovebirds would work it out," Eddie said with a smirk on his face.

Chimney sniffed, earning him looks from the others. “I'm a sucker for romance,” he explained.

“I tried to get them to back off,” Hen defended. “I mean, not very hard, but I did try.”

Bobby simply smiled down at them. “Buck, your shift doesn't start until tonight. Go home.”

And well, they weren't gonna argue with that.

[sanriovin]

hear me out on this one y'all.

imagine yourself coming back home from a hard day at work, right? all overwhelmed, exhausted, annoyed at the world, and so on. as soon as you walk into your shared room though, you see a sight you weren't expecting in the least.

your husband, kento nanami, jerking himself off.

poor man, on his one day off, which were EXTREMELY rare for him, you, as luck had it, had to go to work :( and he was all needy and desperate for you, resorting to masturbating, which he never did often, even more so after the two of you became a couple.

his big, strong, calloused hand from the type of jobs he was involved in, wrapped nicely around his aching, pulsing cock, fisting himself, as pathetic, desperate groans and moans of your name and how good he was feeling left his lips, as his hips bucked up further into his hand from the pleasure he was feeling.

his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, head lolling back into the soft, welcoming pillows, dressed in a gentle linen pillowcase, undoubtedly not even realising that you had came home. the sight before you stirred something inside of you, making the exhaustion and annoyance from the day disappear completely, instead, replacing it with a feeling of your own neediness, and a sense of pride, seeing how your husband could fall apart. it gave you ideas. MANY ideas.

"Kento?" you spoke from your spot at the door, your eyes trailing down your husband's half-nude form; his trousers and boxers gone, his tie loosened, three tops buttons undone from the top.

hearing your voice breaking through the sounds of his ragged breathing, loud grunts of pleasure, and the occasional moan or two, his hand came to a stop, his eyes opened wide, looking at you, with shock, embarrassment, and shame. he couldn't even bring himself to hide his body, in a state of processing what had happened.

placing your bag down on the dresser near the door, you took one step, then another, then another, as you approached your shared bed, your eyes locked onto kento, not looking away for even a mere second, in fear that you would miss even the slightest reaction from your normally composed husband.

he swallowed harshly, audibly, slowly moving his hand away from where it was nicely wrapped around previously, placing it down on the linen clad duvet, averting eye contact with you, his cheeks flushed a soft pink, from either the embarrassment, or the physicality and feelings that masturbation brought, or both?

"I'm sorry, darling, I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon." he spoke a quiet apology, seeming genuine with it, but how could you even be mad at him? or how could he even think you would be mad at him?

shaking your head, you moved yourself down onto the bed, situating yourself in between his thighs, watching how his adam's apple bobbed with nervousness and excitement, how a dribble of precum ran down his dick with every tremor that ran down his body.

"You're sorry for what, Kento?" you asked, the question being more of a chastise for him even thinking that he needed to apologise for this, rather than an actual question. in all honesty, seeing your husband like this, undone into a puddle of desperation and lust, was something you would kill to see on a daily, so you were definitely not complaining.

taking a single finger, you trailed it down his thigh, inching closer and closer to the one spot that was the key to getting rid of all his frustrations and stress, even if just for a day. he let out a quiet sigh, watching you with eager eyes, silently pleading with you to do something, anything, to relieve the pulsing ache.

"Do you want me to help you, Kento?" you, once again, gave him a question. your voice was sweet, soft, as if lulling him into a sort of haze. your voice worked like a siren's, bringing him in and in, with only mere words. having him wrapped around your pinky. true, most of the time, nanami preferred to be the dominating one, the one in control, however, he also knew how to let himself be taken care of by others, specifically, you.

"Please, honey, please, I need you so badly." his voice was strained, barely managing to hold himself back; hold himself out for long enough for you to do something.

taking that as your sign to continue, you put a coy little smile on your face, lowering yourself to lay comfortably between his legs on the soft bed, before placing one, single, chaste kiss to his angry, red tip.

he let out a groan in response, head falling back, peeking at you from under his eyelashes, hands trembling slightly at the feeling. your kiss felt good, so good, but it wasn't near enough for what he wanted, no, needed.

"Darling you, fuck, tease..." he groaned out, situating himself to rest on his elbows, so he could see you better, and see what you were up to.

you would have teased him for longer, but the look on his face, one of love, neediness, pure eagerness and desire, was enough to pull you out of your teasing and cruel state, and you decided to help your beloved partner, help him release all the stress within him.

opening your lips, you slowly lowered yourself onto his aching, hardened cock, lowering yourself further and further, as you attempted to take him fully, with, as you soon found out, ended futilely on the first go, with uncovered space still left at his base. however, that alone was enough to cause nanami to let out a low moan, pressing his eyes shut again, letting the darkness consume him as he focused entirely on the pleasure he felt in the moment.

the scene was messy. your drool dribbling down nanami's sensitive cock, the tip of it pressed and poked against the back of your throat, trying to push further and further, however, it was stopped through the tightening of your throat, and the sounds of gags and chokes on his large size.

he gently moved one of his hands to rest on your head, not pushing, not pressing down, just trying to ground himself to reality from the immense pleasure he felt. "Sweetheart, it feels so good... You're doing so well..."

nanami kento has a way with words. a way that made you feel eager and excited to pleasure him, to satisfy him, in hopes of getting more and more praise.

trying to breathe through your nose, you slowly relaxed your throat, bobbing your head up and down, attempting to inch further and further down his large dick, holding onto his thighs with trembling hands, as your tongue swirled around his leaking tip, which resulted in a loud, higher pitched moan than before from nanami.

the moan was all you needed to proceed with your actions, desperately trying to bring your beloved to the edge of release, as you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking on his cock so well he could practically see stars in his eyes.

taking one of your hands, you gingerly brought it to his balls, beginning to slowly mess and play with them, testing new waters to see if it would have the desired effect on nanami.

and it did not fail.

in mere seconds, nanami was falling apart on the bed, his legs trembling pathetically, his hips jerking up to your mouth, his back on the bed, his arms having lost all strength to support himself. curses, moans, and groans of your name kept spilling from his mouth, as not once did he open his eyes. hot spurts of his cum landed in your mouth, on your tongue, as you began to taste the salty yet slightly bitter taste of it on your tongue.

letting him ride out high long-awaited orgasm, you took all that he gave you, only pulling off once you saw his body laying practically limp on the bed, regaining himself from the experience.

but, of course, he was a gentleman at heart. he wouldn't let such a favour go unrewarded, oh no, he couldn't have that.

"How about you let me pleasure you now, love? What do you say?"

(author's note: finished writing this after finishing AOT S3 - the ending hurt so bad that i couldn't even cry)

[velarisdusk]

When the Stars Bear Witness

Day 22: Cuckolding | Azriel x Reader x Cassian, Rhysand word count: 2.2k author’s note: i feel like his offer to feyre from the birchin was not to let az and cass join them, but just for her to enjoy them while he watched. i sincerely think rhys would not mind cucking every once in a while. also, unabashedly, this is hot i want this thank u ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

The tension in the air was palpable, power thrumming beneath the surface of the room like an untamed current. Rhysand sat in a chair at the foot of the bed, his wrists pinned to the armrests by Azriel’s shadows, and his view fixed directly on you. He flexed his fingers, restless and restrained as he watched, his eyes never leaving your body. It was the way Cassian’s hand gripped your waist, the way Azriel’s lips grazed your skin, that made Rhysand’s throat tighten. The shadows brushed over him ever-so-lightly, as if mocking the loss of control, the shift in the room that left him on the outside looking in. 

But that was the agreement, wasn’t it? To watch. To wait. To want.

His gaze followed the curve of your spine, the way you arched against them, back bathed in the soft light of the room. You were caught between them, writhing beneath their hands, every shift of your body sending a fresh wave of heat through him.

Cassian was to your left, his broad hand gripping your hip possessively, guiding your movements as his fingers worked between your thighs, slow and tortuous. Rhysand’s breath hitched watching Azriel, pressed close to your right, littering your chest with hickeys, pulling a soft moan from you that sent a jolt of need through his gut. You melted under their touch, eyes fluttering closed, completely at their mercy. The whimper that escaped your lips as Cassian’s thumb brushed over your clit sent a flash of jealousy through Rhysand, his pulse quickening at the sight of you, flushed and desperate, but just out of his reach. Your pleasure wasn’t his to control tonight. 

“Look at him.” Cassian’s voice cut through the air, rich and smooth, amusement curling around every word as he glanced toward Rhysand. His fingers traced lazily over your back, drawing a shiver from you. “He’s fucking aching for you… and he can’t do a damn thing about it.”

Your eyes fluttered open just a little, catching your mate’s. The helpless hunger in his gaze sent a rush of heat through you, every inch of your body already alive under Cassian’s and Azriel’s touch. The way Rhys watched, pinned in place though he could certainly free himself if he wanted, had you squirming even more.

Azriel chuckled, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “You like that, don’t you? Knowing he’s sitting there, watching us take what he isn’t allowed to touch?” His words, combined with Cassian’s thumb pressing more firmly against your clit, made you cry out, a string of curses following as your body trembled between them. 

You didn’t answer with words, just a broken gasp as Azriel’s hand slid up to cup your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple hard enough to make your head fall back. Cassian tightened his grip on you, his fingers pushing deeper inside you, the wet sounds filling the room as your hips bucked against his hand.

Rhysand’s jaw clenched, frustration rolling off him in waves. His chest heaved with every shaky breath, eyes locked on the way your body moved, on the way you responded to them. 

Azriel glanced over his shoulder at Rhysand, his lips pulling into a smirk. “You’d kill to be where we are, wouldn’t you?” He teased, his hand dipping between your legs, replacing Cassian’s. His fingers immediately found that sensitive spot inside you, making your entire body tense and shudder. “But tonight, she’s ours.”

Cassian’s fingers gripped your chin, turning your face toward your mate, his lips ghosting over your ear as his free hand squeezed your breast. “Tell him,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell him who you belong to tonight.”

Your voice came out as a breathless whisper, barely able to form the words. “Tonight, I’m yours, Cassian,” you turn to face Azriel. “Both of yours.”

Rhysand’s breath caught, a low groan slipping from him as he watched the way your body responded to them, to the way they explored you and toyed with you. He couldn’t look away — didn’t want to. His cock throbbed in his pants, the pressure nearly unbearable as he shifted in his seat, needing any kind of relief but finding none. 

Cassian’s hand fisted into your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss you deeply, his tongue claiming your mouth as Azriel’s fingers pushed deeper inside you. You whimpered against his lips, body shaking with pleasure, completely at their mercy.

Rhysand’s violet eyes darkened with need — frustration, jealousy, and overwhelming arousal twisting inside him as he watched them take you apart. He was stuck on the outside, aching for you but unable to touch, to claim, to feel. And he hated how much he loved it. 

Azriel leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise. “We’ll make sure he sees every single inch of you come undone.”

You shivered, caught between the heat of Azriel’s words and the steady grip Cassian still held on your hip. The tension in the room crackled, thick and heady, as they exchanged a glance over you, some unspoken agreement passing between them. Without a word, they began to shift you.

Cassian’s hands guided you down, pushing you gently but firmly until you lay on your stomach. He slid behind you, trailing kisses down your back, and pulled your hips up so your ass was angled toward him. Azriel moved beneath you, positioning himself between your legs. Your knees trembled as they adjusted you, forcing you into place, your body now aligned perfectly for Rhysand’s view from the side — the best seat in the house.

He could see everything. The way your body was bent over, ass high, while Cassian loomed over you from behind, working his fingers one by one into your tight, untouched opening. And the way Azriel laid back beneath you, his cock brushing teasingly over your soaked cunt. His eyes flickered to Rhysand, his smirk widening as he teased his cock against your entrance, just barely pushing inside. “She’s perfect like this, isn’t she?” he drawled, his voice rich with amusement. “Look how well she takes it.”

Rhysand’s breath came hard and fast, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of the chair, the wood groaning under him, but Azriel’s shadows held firm. “Let me–” his voice was thick with need, but Cassian cut him off with a dark, quiet laugh.

“No,” he growled, pushing into you slowly, the thick head of his cock stretching your ass, his grip on your hips tightening as your body adjusted to him. “You just sit there and watch. You know the rules, Rhys. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Before he could answer, the room filled with yours and Azriel’s groans of pleasure, his cock finally sliding fully into you, the slick heat enveloping him as he filled you. His eyes fluttered closed, lips curling into a satisfied grin. “Fuck,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, gripping your waist as he thrust into you, matching the slow rhythm Cassian set behind you. “Feels too good to share.”

Azriel’s words were like a slow caress as he rolled his hips against yours, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Beneath the lazy heat of his gaze, you felt the weight of Rhys’s stare, heavy and simmering with frustration, desire, and something darker. Every inch of your skin tingled under the intensity.

Cassian let out a low, predatory growl from behind you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it was sure to leave marks, dragging you back onto his cock with each powerful thrust. “Look at him,” Cassian ordered, his voice rough with lust, one hand slipping up your back to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging your head to the side so your gaze met Rhysand’s. “Look at how desperate your mate is. But he’s not the one pulling all these pretty sounds from you tonight, is he?”

Your response came in the form of a whimper between the moans you simply couldn’t contain, unable to tear your eyes away from Rhysand’s violet gaze, wide with hunger. His chest rose and fell, and his arms rested against the chair, muscles coiled but relaxed, shadows slipping over his skin like a mockery of restraint. He wasn’t bound by force but by choice. The deep yearning in his expression sent a thrill down your spine, making you clench tighter around Azriel’s and Cassian’s cocks. 

They both let out hisses as they felt your body react to the sight of your mate watching, Cassian’s eyes flicking toward Rhysand with a mocking smirk. “She’s never this tight for you, is she?” he purred, his voice low and taunting. “Not like she is for us. You can’t fuck her like this, can you?”

Rhysand’s jaw clenched hard, a low growl vibrating deep in his chest, but Azriel only chuckled darkly. “If you really wanted to stop this,” Azriel said, his tone colder, more calculated, “you could. You have the power, the strength. But you won’t.” He thrust hard into you, forcing another moan from your lips. “You’re going to sit there, Rhys, and watch us wreck her, because you know no one can do it like we can.”

Cassian laughed, low and rough, driving into you in tandem with Azriel, both of them burying themselves all the way into you at once. “He fucking loves it,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Loves watching us stretch you, fill you in ways he can’t on his own.” His hand slid around you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing you at a steady pace. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, caught between the constant, relentless pace of their thrusts and the sharp, aching pleasure Cassian’s fingers teased out of you. “Tell him,” Cassian urged again, his grip tightening as he slammed into you, pushing you to the brink. “Tell him how good it feels to be fucked by us.”

A strangled moan escaped your throat as you tried to form words, your voice strained. “So good,” you gasped, the words spilling out in a breathless rush. “You fuck me so good, Cassian. Azriel. Better than anyone — better than…” You couldn’t finish, your mind fogging with pleasure, but the implication hung heavy in the air, a knife’s edge to Rhysand’s restraint. 

Azriel’s hand gripped your jaw, turning your head toward him, his lips brushing yours. “Better than Rhys?” he whispered, his voice a dark tease, goading you. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to make you gasp, your lips parting as his grip tightened on your cheeks. “Tell him.”

Your eyes fluttered, caught between the overwhelming sensations and the need to obey. “Better than Rhys,” you finally breathed, and the sound that tore from Rhysand’s throat was somewhere between a growl and a moan, his hands straining against the restraints as his entire body tensed, trembling with the effort not to break free. 

Cassian’s laughter was low, almost cruel, as he thrust deeper into you, his cock stretching your ass in ways that had your vision blurring with pleasure. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice a rough purr in your ear, before looking back at Rhysand. “You see that? She fucking loves it, Rhys. Loves how we take her. And you…” He grinned wickedly, slowing his thrusts just enough to torture you, making you squirm for him on Azriel’s cock. “You’re going to stay right there and watch while we ruin her.”

Azriel’s pace quickened beneath you, his hands gripping your waist as he slammed into your dripping cunt. “She’s close,” he growled, eyes dark with lust as he glanced at Rhysand. “You’re going to watch her come all over my cock, Rhys. Watch her come for us.”

The tension built inside you, a tight, desperate coil that had you teetering on the brink, every nerve in your body alive with sensation. “Please,” you whimpered, your voice a broken plea, your body trembling between them. Cassian’s hand tightened on your hip, his thrusts growing harder, faster, as he leaned over you, his breath hot on your neck. “Come for us,” he growled, his voice a command. “Let him watch you fall apart, knowing we’re the ones who made you come.”

Cassian’s fingers picked up the pace, rubbing your clit in tight, firm circles that sent you spiraling. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “Let go.”

And you did. The orgasm ripped through you, violent and overwhelming, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you as you came hard, your body clenching around their cocks, your mind going blank with the intensity of it. 

Rhysand’s groan echoed through the room, his eyes wild, chest heaving as he watched you come undone, doing nothing but bearing witness. Azriel and Cassian didn’t stop. They pushed you through the aftershocks, their relentless pace unyielding as they fucked you even harder, as if determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from you. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@starlightazriel @nvdax @halo-hanging @paleidiot @kismet27

@mellowmusings @gracielacie @d3ad-ins1de @loviseamms @inkedinshadows

@natasha153 @deathdoordoctor @spacebananabud @secretsicanthideanymore @edance2000

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@90angiex @fourthwing4ever

[peppermintquartz]

The watch strap is worn out and stained on the inside. Buck takes note of it, and when Tommy's taking a shower, picks up the watch to see if there's an inscription anywhere.

Nothing. Just a regular watch.

But if Tommy has worn it to this state, then he probably really likes it.

Buck hums to himself, then takes a picture of it, front and back, with a dime for scale in case he needs it, and puts the watch back where Tommy left it.

-

They miss their dinner reservations the next week when Buck sees Tommy in a new shirt and decides that Tommy is not allowed to wear that shirt for more than five minutes.

He ends up gasping for breath under Tommy, his legs and arms shaking with exertion, and Tommy is no better, one thick arm wrapped about Buck's soft middle, biting marks into his shoulders.

After they both came - Buck first with a desperate wail, dragging Tommy after him with an equally desperate "Evan, god, Evan" - Buck is a limp puddle of satisfaction. His gaze falls to the side and he sees the bedside lamp, its shade faded to a nondescript beige. It's clean, because Tommy is on top of his housekeeping, but it's old.

"How long have you had that lamp?" he asks, his words slurring together while Tommy wipes him clean.

"I don't know. Since I left the army, I think? It works." The washcloth is tossed towards the laundry basket and Tommy mutters a happy "three points!" like the dork he is when it lands among the dirty clothes.

Buck turns his head and smiles at Tommy. "I love you."

"I love you too. So, frittata or ramen? I have some frozen shrimp dumplings I think." He kisses Buck on his forehead, like Buck didn't cause them to miss their dinner.

"Frittata and ramen," Buck says, because he knows he can get away with being spoiled for a while.

Tommy only chuckles fondly.

Buck stares at the matching lamp on the other side. Beige.

--

Tommy holds onto things, Buck discovers. DVDs, CDs, tools from his army pilot days, his high school football jersey. Not necessarily because of sentimental value. Because they still work.

But some things are old and breaking apart, like the clock in his living room, or the fan that's in the garage, or the ancient vacuum that chokes every five feet.

Like it doesn't occur to Tommy to buy a new and better one.

"It still works," Tommy says. His vacuum coughs. "It just needs a little tinkering. I'll make do."

--

When Buck gives Tommy new watch straps, Tommy just. Blinks. And then he smiles that soft, amazed smile, as if he can't believe Buck is real. Like he can't believe anyone will notice something so trivial about his stuff, and do something nice about it.

"Thanks," he says, and switches out the straps.

--

Buck buys white lampshades and paint, and he makes it a date for them to paint the two lampshades. Purples and blues, with a touch of pink. Buck jokes that it's his bisexual lighting. They're hideous, objectively speaking, but they were painted by them both, and Buck figures he can get better ones in the future when they're tired of these.

After they replace the old beige ones, Tommy rides Buck, lit only by the new bisexual lighting lampshades.

--

When Buck replaces the clock, the fan and the vacuum, Tommy helps to discard the old ones.

"You deserve nice things too," Buck tells Tommy when the latter sputters something about making do with the old stuff. Buck kisses him and repeats, "You deserve nice things too."

If he can keep bringing that slightly stunned and amazed and soft expression to Tommy's face, Buck will consider himself a good boyfriend.

[hitomisuzuya]

Aventurine x fem!reader. Smut. Masturbation. Vivid sexual fantasies. Fingering. Squirting. Blowjob.

@chiscaralight kindly asked I write for Aventurine. It's almost 6am, and this is probably going to sound like a bunch of high nonsense. I really need this man😭 This isn't what I originally intended to write.

Aventurine's mind races when he masturbates. He just can't help himself today. It was bad enough that he had the sudden, uncontrollable urge to seek relief during work hours. But, there were a lot of factors working against him.

There had been a certain sway to your hips when you walked. The perfume you wore assaulted his senses. When you walked, the pleats in your little skirt bounced, giving the slightest whispered hint of a garter belt adorning your thigh.

Sighing, Aventurine leaned back in his chair, giving the atmosphere time to quiet down. Made sure everyone, including you, was out on lunch. His bewitching eyes closed, his hand hovering over his twitching dick.

One of the things that he has been forefront of his mind picturing what you would look like on your knees, with your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. Looking up at him with a look in your eyes that said there isn't anything you would rather be doing than sucking his cock.

You would be letting out the prettiest, muffled noises, drooling on his cock as he pushed it into your throat. He rested his head back on the head rest of his office chair, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his aching cock. He left his gloves on for extra friction.

He couldn't take too long and risk getting caught.

His gloved fingers stroked his cock. Thinking of how your throat would feel convulsing on it as you gagged, his fingers tightening in your hair to hold your head in place as he thrust into your throat. Your tongue would lap and curl around his cock, a muffled mewl of bliss vibrating on his length as it emptied in your mouth.

Aventurine couldn't stop the lilting moans that started to sound from him. He rutted into his hand, hissing and squirming in his chair, his cock pulsing in his hand.

His mind drifted to thinking of sitting you on his desk, and telling you to be good girl and wait for him while he finished working. His fingers would be idly playing and fingering your pussy. "Shh, shh, it's okay, sweet heart," He'd croon as your juices soaked onto his hand, your hips bucking to nudge his fingers into your sweet spot as he relentlessly scissored your walls apart. Whimpers to please let you cum would spill from your pretty mouth. "Just hang tight," He purred, laughing amused as you suddenly squirted on his fingers, "And wait for me," The pace of his fingers would never relent, overstimulating you as he continued to finger you like you never squirted on his fingers to begin with.

Aventurine massaged his thumb over the head of his leaking cock.

Or maybe he would be a bit cruel.

Aventurine fisted his cock with little regard to how much time was passing. He was too wrapped in thoughts of playing with your pussy, and denying you every opportunity to cum. Leave your pussy puffy and abused, your clit throbbing and walls clenching around nothing. He would purposely stay and work late to make you more needy for him.

His cock pulsed steadily in his hand, the cusps of orgasm building as he thought of taking you back to his penthouse. Stripping you with hushed promises to replace any articles of clothing he tore off. Putting you on all fours, pressing your face into the soft pillows and fucking you from behind.

You wouldn't be able to think, the feral pace with which he fucked you barely gave you any time to adjust as he cock squelched lewd and loud in and out of your sloppy hole.

Aventurine let out a loud, lilting cry as cum spurted into his hand. Relief instantly encompassed his body. He sat there panting quietly for a few moments before cleaning himself up.

No sooner had he done so, you, his sweet little secretary, the object of his fantasies had just returned from lunch.

[rikicentral]

Frustrated

Riki stormed through the front door, frustration evident in his every step. Dance practice had been a disaster; he couldn’t nail a crucial move, leaving him exasperated. As he entered the apartment, he walked straight past you and headed for the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting soon after.

You were already settled on the couch, the movie playing softly in the background. You glanced up as he disappeared into the bathroom, sensing his tension but unsure how to approach him.

After a while, the shower turned off, and the bathroom door opened. Riki emerged wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his damp hair falling over his forehead. The frustration was still apparent in his posture, but his appearance signaled a shift from his earlier intensity.

He walked over to the couch and sank down heavily. You decided to take a chance and moved to sit on his lap, hoping to offer some comfort.

As you settled onto him, Riki’s hands instinctively gripped your waist, his fingers pressing in with a firm, almost urgent touch. He pulled you closer, the heat between you rising as he adjusted his position beneath you. His earlier frustration seemed to channel into a more intense need.

You could feel his arousal growing beneath you, and he shifted slightly, pressing you against him with a deliberate rhythm. His hands roamed up your sides, exploring your body with a purposeful touch.

He leaned in and captured your lips in a heated kiss. The kiss was intense and demanding, his tongue exploring yours with a passionate rhythm. You responded eagerly, deepening the kiss as your hands roamed over his bare chest.

Riki’s hands began to roam more freely, moving down to your thighs, his touch firm and insistent. He gripped your thighs, his fingers pressing in as he guided you to move against him. His hands then traveled to your butt, squeezing and groping with a rough but passionate touch.

“You have no idea how annoying today was,” he muttered between kisses, his voice a mix of frustration and desire. “I just couldn’t get it right.”

You gasped as his rough hands explored your body, the friction between you creating a slow, tantalizing rhythm. His hips began to move in response to your movements, pressing up against you with a steady, urgent rhythm.

His touch grew more intense as he continued to explore, his fingers digging into your thighs and butt, guiding you with a demanding force. He pressed you closer, his movements becoming more deliberate as he channeled his frustration into the physical connection.

“Feels like you’re the only thing that can get me to forget about today,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a mix of need and relief. “Just being close to you makes everything better.”

Riki’s movements became more focused and deliberate as the pleasure built between you. His grip on your thighs and butt was firm, his touch growing rougher as he guided you with an urgent rhythm. His hips moved in a steady, forceful grind, each thrust driven by a mix of desire and need.

His hands continued to explore your body, groping and squeezing with an intensity that matched the pleasure of the moment. The connection between you was electric, every touch and movement heightening the intimacy and passion.

“God, you feel incredible,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “I needed this… I needed you.”

As the climax approached, Riki’s movements grew more desperate. His grip on you tightened, his hips bucking with a fervor that spoke to his deep need. The pleasure between you reached a fever pitch, each thrust and movement sending you both spiraling toward a powerful release.

In the final moments, Riki’s body tensed, his grip on you becoming almost painfully tight. The release was explosive, a wave of intense pleasure that left you both gasping and spent.

The frustration that had driven him melted away, replaced by a deep, physical connection.

As you both caught your breath, Riki’s grip loosened, his touch now gentler as he pulled you into a tender embrace.

“Thank you,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. You lay together on the couch, the movie still playing in the background but now forgotten. The rawness of the experience had left you both emotionally and physically spent, a testament to the deep connection and understanding between you.

[rodolfoparras]

Cw: 18+, age gap, subbot price, domtop male reader, power dynamics, bratty price, ftm price

Thinking about Young sergeant Price who has a crush on you older lieutenant reader and does absolutely everything in his power to tease you, sending you inappropriate pics when you’ve clearly stated that he is only to use your number for emergencies, dropping flirty comments whenever the two of you are working a shift; telling you how good you look in your uniform or ogling your ass as you walk by him, or even practically feeling you up, hand wandering your chest or cupping your crotch as you try to adjust his position at the shooting range.

You’d kick him out if he wasn’t such a good soldier (and if the two of you hadn’t hooked up before), so you have to put up with him whether you like it or not

And most days you don’t mind his teasing because it only means that at the end of the day you’ll pull him into his office and bend him over your desk.

Of course it doesn’t go without him making a comment about how he almost fucked someone else because he had to wait for you all day but you know his words are utter shit when you pull his pants and boxers down his knees and spread his pussy lips, hearing the obscene squelching sound ring through the room and watching strings of wetness reluctantly break apart before shoving two fingers inside his wet cunt.

Words are soon replaced with grunts and groans as you scissor your fingers inside him, eyes locked on the way sunlight filters through the office window and lands on the curve of ass that keeps continuously bucking up into your touch, and losing yourself in the feeling of his hot walls clenching down onto your hand.

It doesn’t take much before you have him splayed out on your desk, legs spilling over your shoulder, while steadily thrusting your hips into him, only to be met with the sight of his cocky smile and the words “come on old man you can do better than that,” which in turn has you fastening your pace, thrusting harder, deeper into the man the sound of skin slapping together mingles with the sound of his whimpers and whines, blunt fingers and heels digging into your back.“Yes yes fuck!”

Once you’re done you don’t even bother to clean him up, telling him to just put his uniform on and sending him back outside so whoever he thinks of fucking next will be met with the wet sticky mess you left between his legs

[scoutswritingcorner]

I love Cat Alastor!! would you do one where Alastor and The cat are forced to spend time together after being left alone when Reader has to do errands.

Supply Run

Platonic Cat Alastor x Reader Ft Alastor x Reader

TW:Alastor not liking Cat Alastor. 

A/N: YES BIG BRAIN ANON- BIG BRAIN!! Also I hope you like it, it got chaotic.

You picked up Catastor for what felt like the 30th time today as you tried to leave to go get some errands done. It’s not that you didn’t want to leave him in the hotel but last time he went with you he ate three random sinners who looked at you for too long. Loud radio static echoed through the halls as you walked back to your room, Catastor tucked in your arms as he tried to swat your hands away. He knew what you were doing and he hated it as much as you did.

Rounding the hallway and entering your room, you plopped the cat onto your bed. “Listen here, I know you want to come with me but you can’t..please just stay here? I’ll be back before you know it.” You crouched down, getting down onto his eye level causing him to growl before carefully pawing at your nose in protest before he jumped off the bed and walked to the door, you sighed and sat down. You really had to get those errands done today. As you listened to the radio playing in the background an idea popped into your head, your husband wasn’t as busy as he usually was. He could watch over this little cat.

You picked Catastor up and exited your room, walking to where you knew you would find your husband. “Alastor~ My darling buck~” You called out entering the foyer watching as he looked up at you, his ears swiveling towards your voice. “Yes, Dear?~” He hummed watching you walk over, placing your little bodyguard onto his lap as loud static erupted throughout the foyer making his smile tighten. “Dearest..why are you putting your..bodyguard on my lap?” He asked, voice strained as he held his arms up glaring down at his replacement. You leaned down placing a gentle kiss to your husband's cheek as you hummed, “I need to get errands done before the day ends. Watch him for me, Al?” You said pouting as he sent you a half hearted glare, “Please?” You whined causing him to sigh.

“Fine, only for you I suppose.” He growled out as you smiled at him. “I’ll pay you back, Dear.” You whispered watching his ears twitch angrily before swiftly making your exit. Alastor looked down at the cat in his lap. “Don’t you try a single thing.” He snarled out his eyes flickering to radio dials as the cat hissed at him in return.

~~~

It had been 25 minutes since you were gone and now Alastor was using his tentacles to hold up the cat as Nifty ran around cleaning up the mess the cat had made. “You are a little nuisance.” He snarled out, jacket ripped (even more than it was) as his eyes twitched. How much longer are you going to be out? The cat hissed and snarled its own smaller tentacles appearing out of its back, trying to swipe at his, “I don’t see what my darling sees in you.” He hissed out holding the cat higher as punishment, “Now I must go see my tailor once more since you couldn’t keep your little claws off of it.�� 

This was going to be a long day for him.

~~~

An hour. You were gone for an hour. So it surprised you to see your husband sitting on the couch, reading a book, his jacket almost torn to bits as Catastor was taped to the wall above his head. You didn’t say anything seeing as your husband was already on the verge of ripping someone’s head off. You simply walked over and leaned down in front of him, quickly catching his gaze. Everyone had scurried away from the foyer to not incur Alastor’s wrath if he chose to let it loose, which he would have no doubt about it. He lifted his head as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, a silent apology to help calm his nerves and one he happily took for now. 

Pulling away to look at the damage done to his beloved jacket. “I’ll take it to the tailor for you,” You hummed watching as his ears seemingly relaxed despite how his smile seemed even more thin and his nose scrunched up, “As payback, dear.” You finished off watching him silently nod to your suggestion before he had moved over so you could sit next to him. You looked up to Catastor to see him glaring at your husband but also calming down enough to seemingly fall asleep near your presence. He could get out if he needed.

New rule: Don’t leave them together.

[sentoooo]

ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ 'ʀᴏᴅᴇᴏ'

✭ pairing(s): boothill x afab reader

✩ inspo: need him

★ summary: you can't help but notice how hot your boyfriend is at the rodeo...

✧ a/n: mmghhfhh robocock

🗒 cw: SMUT, gn! afab reader (no use of breasts), porn with plot, dry humping, cunnilingus, manhandling, overstimulation, edging, facesitting, not proofread

✎ wc: 3.8k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Dates with Boothill were few and far between, and when you two are able to have one, it’s not necessarily the most glamorous. Case in point, you were at a dingy rodeo, standing near the railings as you watched some poor soul get tossed around like a ragdoll on the bull, clutching on for dear life for only 2 seconds. As spectators cheered and hollered around you, the wranglers did their best to calm the beast down and usher it out of the ring, the announcers chatting about the performance in a language you don’t understand. Due to the rodeo’s clearly small budget, no gear had been provided for the riders, you can’t help but cringe at the thought of the possible back pain of the rider, but that fades quickly as you finally start paying attention. You could care less about the other riders, and most likely, after the next, you’d probably leave.

The next rider being Boothill. You don’t have to worry about Boothill and his gear; he’s a big boy, and he can deal. If anything were to happen, he’d just have to ask his mechanics to buff it out. It’s the last ride, and the crowd is antsy. Chatting reaches a peak around you, as the smell of alcohol becomes more prominent. Your eyes fall to the stall below you, where Boothill’s stationed, hand on the railing, chatting away with the handlers. His attention is broken for just a second, looking up at you with a cocky grin, and a tip of his hat. His eyes linger, met with a soft smile from you.

The eye contact is fleeting, however, and the announcers pull him back to focus on what’s next. They rile the crowd up, talking so fast it makes your head spin, as if you were at an auction. The only word you catch is ‘Boothill’, of course, and when you look back down at him, he’s raring to go. The minute that gate opens, he lets go of the bar, his right hand up.

The bull bucks, left, then right, right again, and into a full circle. It’s miraculous how his hat has stayed atop his head with how violently the bull is throwing him around. His chin is tucked to his chest, knees pressed against the bull, spurs digging into the bull’s ribs. Beneath the rim of his hat, you can see that cocky grin, in fact, you can almost hear his laughter under all the cheering and muttering as he makes it past 2 seconds. The wranglers pace back and forth around the bull as it jumps, another left spin. It has to be the longest 8 seconds of your life, every time the bull’s hooves touch or kick up dust, your stomach tightens. You’re undoubtedly more nervous than he is, but that feeling is soon replaced with something else.

You don’t understand why, but watching him steady while the bull thrashes about, toothy grin unwavering, heel and knees tight, something stirs within you. The whole world goes quiet as you watch intently, biting at your lip as you try and fathom how you are attracted to this. Your face flushes, the people around you are too rowdy to notice how you’ve squeezed your legs, to abate the heat forming. Luckily, that action snaps you back to reality, and as the horn sounds above you, signaling that Boothill has made it to 8 seconds, he rides out a couple more. Finally, after about another second and a half, he lets go, falling to the ground and rolling back on his feet. The bull continues to buck, and the wranglers usher it back out of the ring.

The crowd cheers and hollers as he climbs up the railings, taking his hat off and waving with a triumphant grin. Some people around you grumble and move away while the announcers try to end off the show. Boothill looks directly towards you, and you must’ve given him the look, because he gives you a sultry smirk, one that screams ‘I'm gonna get my reward’. You can even hear him say it in your head, as you try and tear your gaze away. Alas, it’s futile, cause he shoots a wink at you, before putting his hat back on and tipping it towards you again. You can’t help but stare, really. It’s only when he walks out of the ring with the wranglers that you can look away.

.  * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .

You meet Boothill outside of the ring, the stars above dulled by the shabby street lamps that flickered weakly. As he walks up to you, he’s thumbing through the money he’s got, grumbling something about being scammed. Yet, when he sees you, he beams, as if he hadn’t been annoyed at how little he won.

“What’s the payout?” You ask, trying to look over the cash.

“Enough for a motel,” Boothill replies quickly, moving his hands away from you as if to hide the money. “That’s all that matters.”

Despite his complaining, his tone is heavy with implications. Truth is, he could care less about the cash. He’s never around one place long enough to really need their currency; save for enough for a round of drinks or two. He was much more interested in the adrenaline rush, or the substitute of it. Boothill has always been rough n’ rowdy, he didn’t mind being thrown around, especially now. He enjoys pushing his body to his limits. But, since you’ve come into his life, there’s a new thrill added to the list. Who cares about the money when he could have his head pressed between your thighs? You knew exactly where this was going. And it’s not like you mind.

“C’mon,” Boothill jerks his head in the direction of the motel he’s got in mind, that grin never leaving his face. “There’s one close to here.” You can tell he’s eager, as much as he does his best to hide it. His hand slips around your waist, squeezing your hip gently as he ushers you away from the venue. He’s quick to pull you away from the crowd forming outside, perhaps it is to slip away from any sore losers.

You follow his lead without complaint, after all, why not indulge? A date with Boothill is rare, a night with him even rarer. You can’t reel your mind in once it’s wandered back to the sight of Boothill on the bull. You have no idea why you were entranced and why it stoked the fire low in your belly, but it’d be quelled soon enough.

As honest and sometimes discrete Boothill may be, the quick walk to the motel is filled with all sorts of lingering touches. He hooks his thumb into the waistband of your pants, teasing lightly at your hip bone. He presses himself up against your side, whispering all sorts of sweet nothings and dirty words, or what he can, at least. His goal is to make you squirm, and squirm you do. Every heavy-lidded look, every breath, it serves to fan the flames of want, of need. And by the Aeons, he’s doing it. And doing it well, at that.

By the time you two make it to the motel, you’re essentially whipped. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, and it’s hard to keep your composure for much longer. You’re a blushing mess, and you can only hope the clerk doesn’t take notice of the way you’re clinging to Boothill, the way that you avert your gaze from anyone else, even the cowboy himself. It’s not that you’re embarrassed, it’s just… a while without his touch and his time, you’ve been left empty for a long time. It’s a hunger that you can’t satiate with your hands or even toys– which feels ironic, considering the definition of Boothill’s dick was essentially a toy. But you weren’t after his dick. No, it’s his mouth you missed.

As you reminisced, you hadn’t realized he had whisked you away to the room. But, he brings you back to reality with a bruising kiss, pushing you further into the room and slamming the door behind him. His eyes are shut tight, it seems he’s more keen on satiating the heat within him then you are. He cups your face as your hands find his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Out of instinct, he begins to grind against you, even if it does nothing to abate his own desire. Regardless, he moans into the kiss. Perhaps it was some sort of phantom feeling, chasing after something he can’t quite feel. But that didn’t matter, no, not at all. What mattered was the feeling of your lips pressed against his, the way his hands tangle into your hair and pull ever so lightly, and the way you give him another moan in response.

As you begin to lose your breath, he finally pulls away. With a half-lidded gaze, his hands drift down to your waist. Wordlessly, he pushes himself closer once more, bending down ever so slightly and wrapping his arms underneath the curve of your ass, before essentially throwing you onto the bed. You yelp when your back meets the plush mattress, bouncing back slightly as the springs squeak underneath you.

Everything he does is hasty, it’s not that he’s rushing the moment, he’s just hungry… starved. He snakes his way in between your legs, arms caging you in, placed by your waist as he finally leans back down. Boothill’s face is flushed, lips parted as he pants slightly. He takes in another heavy breath before he closes the distance between you two again. He allows no room for words, only breathy moans and whimpers. This kiss is a lot shorter, it is more like an act of devouring your lips then anything, short ragged breaths escaping from the both of you in the split seconds that your lips part. Eventually, his lips make their way from your lips, down your chin, to your neck. His teeth graze your throat, causing you to sigh softly.

Oh, how you’ve missed this feeling. The sense of desperation that fills the air as you two rut against each other, the gasps and breaths that fill the space around you. As much as the space between you two feels like it could kill you, and how those nights wishing– even praying– to have Boothill in bed with you again are agonizing, these nights where desperation reigned supreme made up for it. Where you two could be at eachothers throats, ripping each other apart, exploring every inch of skin and metal once more. The nights where Boothill sinks his teeth into every inch of skin he can see, where you’re putty in his hands. It’s wonderful, letting everything go, allowing yourself to unravel. The touch you so desperately craved, metal and skin alike, honeyed words lost into a sea of bliss.

His cold hands slide up your shirt, anchoring you back into reality for a second time. His teeth sink into the crook of your neck, letting out a low hum as you whine. You arch your hips, but he pushes them back down, running his tongue along the definition of his bite. He murmurs something against your skin, the first words since you two have entered the room, and you can’t exactly make out what it is. Something like ‘stay put’, which you oblige to, regardless. His hands knead at the flesh, trailing his tongue along your shoulder where his teeth find home once more. He groans this time, as you close your eyes and roll your head back. He doesn’t even have your shirt off and you are soaked. You try to close your legs to stave off the heat build between them, however, his legs prevent you from doing that. You whimper slightly at this, which finally draws Boothill’s attention away from your neck and shoulders. He looks down between you with a smirk, and for a moment you swear you could see his eyes lock on.

“This what ya want?” Boothill asks, pressing his body closer, grinding his groin against yours. The friction makes you groan, arching your back once more. The friction is delicious, every press of his hips against yours fanning the flames of tension. It only serves as a temporary reprieve, but it feels good. You can only nod and babble out something that sounds like a ‘yeah’, pressing your hips up against his every moment they pull away.

It’s wonderful, the way that his cock slots in between your legs, and presses up against your clit, despite the barrier. You can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist, locking him closer. In your hazy dance, you feel as if you mourn every split second his cock doesn’t press against you. He can only chuckle at your desperation, pressing increasingly more feverish kisses against your neck, sometimes sucking, sometimes biting.

Boothill is drunk off all the little sounds you make, picking up the pace of his grinding, pressing you back into the mattress. He just can’t get enough, the way you raise your hips into him, wordlessly begging for more, the taste of your skin… Aeons, you’re addicting. He could care less about how little physical gratification he gets, to have you undone beneath him already is reward enough. Every moan from you earns a grunt of appreciation from him, throwing his head back. While you miss the warmth of his mouth against your skin, you aren’t necessarily disappointed with the view from below…

The heat in between your legs hits a fever pitch as you feel a coil tighten below your stomach. Your legs squeeze against Boothill’s, shutting your eyes tight and letting out a high pitched ‘mmh!’ as a warning. Boothill takes this as a sign to stop, to toy with you. Just as you feel like you’re about to unravel, he pulls away, leaving you feeling empty. You groan and reach up for him, wiggling a little underneath him as an attempt to allow yourself to finish.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Boothill tuts, stepping back. Before you can press your legs together, he catches your thigh with his hand, squeezing and the flesh. “Gotta wait. You can do that, yeah?”

All you manage is a weak nod, wanting so desperately to beg him to let you cum. That doesn’t mean you’ll be complacent though, you know he’s missed you just as much as you have, and you know he’s rather… impulsive. All you have to do is moan a little louder, say his name in a sweeter way, and you’ll have him weak in the knees. You’re so sure of it.

As you hatch your plan, Boothill takes his sweet time getting himself ready. He takes off his hat, setting it on the bedside table, before climbing up onto the bed. His knees pressed against your hips, stradling you. He’s got his cocky grin plastered to his face once more, eyes half-lidded and hazy as he looks down at your flushed face. You prop yourself up on your elbows, a silent challenge as you shift beneath him. His grin turns sultry, leaning his head down and meeting your lips. It’s a chaste kiss, somehow softer from the hungry kisses from early, and he pulls away all too soon.

He doesn’t leave you wanting this time, though. You can tell by the way his eyebrows are barely furrowed, the way he starts chewing on his lip, and the slight narrow in his eyes that, good Aeons, he just cannot wait. That, and, the very obvious tent in his pants. Sure, he’s not adorned with the most ‘human’ bits, but he told the mechanic to make sure ‘it worked juuuust right’. But that’s not the focus here, no, the way he’s sliding down between your body, practically drooling as his head rests on your thigh.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” Boothill grumbles as he fumbles with the button on your jeans. It takes him a full second to undo them, sliding them down to your ankles. You wiggle them off, just as he decides he’s too impatient and presses his mouth to your underwear, tongue flat against your pussy. You let out a stifled moan, hand instinctively tangling within his hair.

Boothill’s eyes flicker up to you, then close, his hands sliding up and anchoring you in place by your hips. He noses at your clit, lapping up whatever he can between your legs. He could care less about the barrier, really, you can feel his teeth grazing your clit every once in a while, which adds a whole new thrill to this experience as is. He wouldn’t bite, as he is prone to, he knows better.

In between hurried licks and sloppy sucks, getting what he can even through the barrier, he presses gentle kisses to your thighs, sometimes licking along your stretch marks. He does this to prolong the experience, granting himself some restraint, no matter how badly he wants to make you cum over and over and over in his mouth. You can tell how hard he’s trying to hold back, his fingertips digging into the plush of your hips, small exasperated grunts found their way in between his ministrations.

You tug on his hair softly, thighs pressed against either side of his face. He looks beautiful like this, face squished between your thighs, eyes closed, mouth open as he laps at your clothed folds. It’s a sight to behold, truly. Every lick causes you to whine, the rough feeling of your underwear pressing against you, pushing just a little further. His breath fans against your pussy, soft grunts and groans escaping his lips, providing a delicious vibrating sensation against your heat.

You feel the coil tightening once more, and silently pray to Lan that he won’t stop in your hazy mind. Your moans increase, letting out soft, high-pitched noises, tugging at his hair slightly. Boothill lets out a low, raspy laugh, hands pulling you closer harshly as if you weren’t close enough. He doesn’t pull away this time, lapping at your underwear at a near crazed pace, like he needs you to cum. And cum you do, your body arching as you dig your nails into his scalp, whimpering out his name.

He laps up your release, or what he can, growing increasingly agitated at what little he can taste through your underwear. Only then does he finally peel away the barrier, his fingers almost too quick. If he was still human, he’d be shaking. He is too quick to claim his place back at your pussy, his licks sloppy and greedy as he claims his prize. Each stripe licked up against your drooling pussy sends a tingling feeling up your spine, making you whine and try and push his head away. But he doesn’t stop.

When your thighs squeeze against his face, as if trying to block him away from such a precious well of ambrosia, his hands fall from your hips, snaking in between your thighs and pushing them open. He pants against your pussy, his warm breath fanning over it, causing you to shiver. You feel like you are… at his mercy, even if you’ve only came once. It is not a bad feeling, you yourself know you are putty in his hands, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

However, it seems Boothill is now unsatisfied with this position. He pulls away from you reluctantly, pushing you up further on the bed, and shimmying his way up onto the bed fully. Before you can even ask what he’s doing, he grabs you by the hips and rolls you over so you were on top of him, hauling you down easily. His mouth finds purchase on your pussy so easily, lapping at it eagerly.

You don’t dare to even move, simply arching your back as you press your hands into his abdomen to keep yourself up. All sorts of lewd noises come from his throat as he continues his ministrations, staring right up at you with a near challenging look. He alternates between licking and suckling on your clit, hungry growls filling the space in between grunts as if having you press flush against his mouth was not enough.

You can feel overstimulation creep up on you, while his actions don’t hurt, it’s starting to tingle a little, providing a comfortably numb feeling alongside the pleasure that wells between your legs once more. Your body heats up more than you thought it could, and slowly your hips follow Boothill’s tongue. It’s not long until you start to grind against his mouth fully, his nose notching against your clit when he wasn’t sucking on it.

“Ya forkin’ like that?” Boothill asks, muffled, before diving back in once more, his hands pulling your hips down even more, pressing you into his mouth. “F-Fudge… So gosh dang good…”

You’d be poking fun at his censorship, but you just can’t help the moans that roll off your tongue. You can’t help but chase after it, your orgasm already gripping you. Your thighs tense and you groan, rolling your head back and cumming onto Boothill’s tongue once more. But he wasn’t done. Your hips jolt as his eating becomes even more hungry, sloppy, the need to ravage you taking hold. What a beautiful aphrodisiac you are, how he would love to drown in between your thighs.

But you stop him from that dream, unfortunately. The numb feeling gave way to an odd hurt, something that felt almost electric. Your hips buck as your body tenses, doing what you can to pull away from Boothill’s iron grip. Eventually, he loosens, his hands coming down onto your thighs, and you raise your pussy from his lips. Slimy tendrils of spit and slick connect his mouth to you, his chin covered in your slick. He grins up at you, eyes practically sparkling.

“M’sorry,” He starts, squeezing your thighs. “Taste too good. Got ahead of m’self.”

You can’t help but admire the sight beneath you, Boothill’s flushed face, happy as can be, as if he had just won the world. Before he lets you go, he leans in, pressing a heated kiss to your clit, pulling back. He changes his mind quickly though, now peppering your folds with more kisses until you shuffle off of him. At that, he lets out a low, mock annoyed groan, before sitting back up.

You sit on his stomach, your slick painting his abdomen, your ass pressed up against the erection pressing against his tight jeans. He doesn’t move to relieve it, he could really care less about it. He’d already taken what he wanted– more like what he deserved– and he was sated. Unless you were game to give him more…

© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[apdreadful]

I’ve decided that from here forward I’m writing Tommy and Buck/Evan as long term canon. In the words of Buck himself “Who cares?!”

I get the feeling that Tommy is difficult to get really angry. Mostly based on his past. And his general roll with the punches attitude thus far. So I don’t foresee a lot of strife or fighting in his future with Buck. Except the first time Tommy experiences the after of that big marshmallow Evan Buckley doing something really dangerous and reckless..again.

And Tommy who never gets angry, who never shouts at Buck, who flew a helicopter into a goddamn hurricane in the middle of the ocean, really loses his shit this time because Buck cannot understand why Tommy is so upset that he dropped into a dangerous situation against orders AGAIN.

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from shouting “Bobby told you not to go in. He told you not to risk it. That the floors were too unstable”

“There could have been someone left” Buck replies “Someone needed to check. It had to be me”

“Why? Because you’re fucking super human? The great Buck Buckley from the 118 who scoffs at danger, has survived a tsunami, getting trapped beneath a fire truck, throwing a blood clot, and was officially dead for three minutes after getting struck by FUCKING LIGHTNING!”

“How do you know about all of that?”

“That isn’t what matters”

“I think it is” Buck takes a step toward Tommy “Have you been stalking me babe?”

Noticing the mischievous smile Tommy shakes his head “Oh no no no. You are not going to adorable your way out of this”

Bucks shoulders sag and he sighs “I’m ok Tommy. Not even a scratch”

“I can see that” Tommy lets out a deep exhale “I understand the risks of the job. I’m not like your exes who would get all distraught over you removing a cat from a tree. But for fucks sake, you are worse than the EOD guys when I was in Afghanistan with the walking - or in your case running or jumping- right into the worst case scenario with no thought of your own safety” Rubbing his forehead he continues “Evan. You’ve got a savior complex and it’s noble and selfless..”

Buck cuts him off “It’s not a savior complex. I’m not stupid. I understand that sometimes no matter what you do you can’t save them. But sometimes maybe you can, and in those cases, I just make the most sense”

Tommy crosses his arms to keep from strangling him or kissing him stupid again to shut him up “How is that? How does you possibly dying make any sense?”

“They all have people that need them. They all have someone they belong to and..” he trails off with a small shrug

And Tommy hears the words he doesn’t say. He is…expendable. And just like that all of the anger drains out of Tommy to be replaced by a something else. “Evan” he says softly.

“I know” Buck interjects “I know that people love me and they would be sad, especially Maddie. And I don’t want to die. But I don’t want someone who has someone they need, and that needs them, to die either. I couldn’t live with that”

Tommy closes his eyes. This man..How can he be so adorable and selfless, yet so completely stubborn and a pain in the ass about his own safety?

Once he calms his thoughts and finds the words he wants to say, he opens his eyes to see Evan looking at him calmly. Like he expects Tommy to see the sense in what he said.

“Evan. I know we haven’t really put a label on this. On us. But that’s because I don’t want to pressure you. I’m the first man you’ve been with and you’re still figuring out who you are, and I understand that. But let me clarify something for you. I need you to come back to me. Ok?”

Buck blinks “Huh”

“I need you to come back to me” he repeats “Like Bobby needs Athena, and Karen needs Hen, and yes like Maddie needs Chimney.

“And Jee-un. Jee-yun needs her dad”

“Yes, and in that same vein, Christopher needs Eddie” he agrees, trying not to give in to his exasperation. “I need you. I am that person who needs you to come home Evan”

Evan stops whatever he was about to say. Startled awareness creeping into his eyes..Tommy sees a mix of emotions flit across his face. Surprise, joy, fear, everything just races across that expressive face and then Evan sinks onto the barstool at his kitchen island. His hands coming up to cover his face.

Tommy’s stomach clench’s. He pushed too hard, too soon “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do care and want you to come home but..”

Buck looks up at him “Don’t you dare take that back”

“I’m not taking it back. I just don’t want to push you”

Something else crosses Evans face at that..but he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. “You aren’t pushing. You aren’t pressuring me. I am in this just as much as you. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding lame and emo as shit”

“Did you just hear me? You can say anything to me Evan. Whatever it is”

Buck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth again. “I’ve never questioned why I do this…I mean it’s the whole reason I was born. To save my brother. To save Daniel. That’s what I do, that’s who I am. It’s why I became a firefighter. To be the one who saves people. The 118 is my family. And I would do anything to protect them from harm”

“I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that. I just want to remind you that you matter to a lot of people, and you also have someone who is waiting for you”

Bucks voice is thick “I know that. I get that. But…Nobody has ever. I have never belonged to anyone, like that”

In a sense of deja vu Tommy closes the short distance to Buck. Tipping his face up, he kisses him. Not soft and gentle like their first kiss in this kitchen. But bold and deep. Branding Evan with his mouth. Pulling back he says fiercely “You belong to me like that. For as long as you want..you belong to me and I belong to you, like that”

“I will ALWAYS need you to come back to me Evan”

ao3 like per request

[obxsummer]

making the bed // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: charleston provided no leads, jj return from his parental adventure, john b plays therapist, and sarah's got something to tell you. everyone's got a whole lot of secrets and shit is about to hit the fan.

warnings: s4 spoilers, talks of depression and anxiety

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--

Charleston was a huge hole of dead ends. Cleo had attempted to kill the man who’d murdered Terrance, which lead to John B almost shooting him. Sarah and Pope almost drowned down in the catacombs, and you and Kiara were left to corral everyone back to the Twinkie when shit hit the fan.

You fell back into your usual numb routine, letting everyone shower and clean up upon arrival back to Poguelandia, while you went out to the shop to check on everything and see if JJ had resurfaced. To your relief, the HMS Pogue was pulling up as soon as you hit the dock and you took off running.

“JJ!” You yelled as you got closer, tugging the hood off your head just in time to collide with his chest and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Hi, oh shit-” He caught you with ease, grabbing the back of your head to hold you closer. You took a deep breath, breathing in his cologne that you’d replaced every time he’d run out and the faint scent of your shampoo that he swore he never used. 

“You okay?” JJ asked quietly, his fingers grabbing the nape of your neck to massage the pressure points of your skin before letting you back to the ground. He could practically feel the anxiety and tesnion radiating off of you, and he was likely no different.

“Where’d you go?” You avoided his question. “Did you find your dad?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “He’s been hiding out with Barracuda Mike. He um… he told me he wasn’t my real dad.”

You swore you could hear your heart cracking in your chest. “What?”

“I know.. I don’t-” He groaned and handed the letter from the other day over to you, allowing you to read the script writing fully this time. “It says talk to your father, and then Luke says that Wes Genrette… is my grandfather.”

Your eyes skimmed the writing quickly, Wes’s letter telling JJ he needed to ask his dad regarding albatross, and a bunch of other things you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on. “That would make Groff your dad? And Larissa…” You trailed off with the sinking realization that if all of this was true, JJ’s birth mom was dead. Gone.

JJ heaved a big breath. “Yeah. And that baby she supposedly drowned with? That’s me.”

“You?”

“Mhmm.”

“You’re…you’re a Genrette.”

JJ shrugged, his eyes distant as he looked over the water. “He’s.. he’s probably trying to work some inheritance scam and he’s trying to get some money, trying to use me for a quick buck because that’s all he does.”

“Look.” You grabbed his face in your hands, holding him steady from the spiral he was getting ready to jump into. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We… we’ll figure it out.”

His expression crumbled in your hold, and he moved forward to kiss you slowly, teeth pulling on your bottom lip in want of more. “Missed you.”

You smiled and kissed him again, sinking fully into his hands like a piece of putty. “Missed you too. So much.”

“Don’t tell the others?” He mumbled it in a questioning tone. You nodded in agreement, figuring the two of you could theorize and catch up later. His arms scooped you up again, lips finding yours as he moved slowly up to the shop and out of view of your friends if they resurfaced.

“How was Charleston?” JJ asked once you were settled on the counter and his hands rested on your hips.

You shrugged, fingers twisting in the strands of blond hair on his neck. “A bust, as usual. They beat us to it. We all split up, so you can ask them for more since JB and I got stuck on graveyard duty.”

JJ smiled, a small laugh in his chest before he kissed you again. “Glad you were with him, keeps you safe.”

You rolled your eyes at his concern, but it was appreciated nonetheless. There was a lot of heavy conversations that needed to happen between the two of you, but you didn’t want to add to JJ’s already confused mindset. He didn’t need that right now, especially when he just wanted to love on you and forget it all happened.

John B came in search of you and JJ shortly after, hand slamming over his eyes when he caught sight of your small makeout session. “Gross, can you not?”

You flipped your brother off without looking at him and unlocked your ankles from behind JJ’s back. “Nobody invited you,” You sang toward him as JJ squeezed your hips.

“Shower’s open,” Your brother ignored your negative comment and focused on your boyfriend. “You good, dude? Everything okay?”

JJ frowned and offered John B a shrug. “It’s my dad, dude. He’s like a fucking roach, never really goes away.”

John B nodded, taking the hint that the topic didn’t really want to be discussed. He squeezed JJ’s shoulder in support before flicking your knee cap. “Get out of here, smelly. Don’t need you stinkin’ up the shop.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed off the counter to head into the house with the intent to clean up. The zoning hearing was tonight regarding the property, and a lovely pit of ever-present anxiety had settled in your chest. 

Taking your time to soak up the hot water and wash the chaos of the last 48 hours off your body, you rejoined the group on the porch where everyone had been catching JJ up on the events in Charleston.

“You know, that’s a lot of sarcasm we don’t really need right now, okay?”

“Sorry, I was just rat swarmed, so.”

You disregarded John B and Pope’s lover fest and walked forward into JJ’s awaiting arms, tucking yourself into his chest without a word. You listened in as they theorized rallying people on The Cut in hopes of having some sort of attention on the zone hearing, hoping the majority crowd would provide some defense.

“Speaking of family, this is gonna sound insane, but Rafe came by before we left…”

You pulled yourself out of JJ’s embrace to stare at Kiara, terrified. Your heart was pounding in your chest out of fear that she would reveal more than intended. 

“What?”

“Why?”

John B met your gaze. “He was there. That’s why you were crying before we left. Why didn’t you say something?”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, trying to give him all the answers in your expression without having to speak. 

Kiara held out the business card Rafe had placed in your hand, reaching it out to Sarah. “I don’t know,” Your friend lied, “He said he wanted to help… help us.”

Sarah snorted as she read the text on the card. “Rafe Cameron, CEO. CEO of what? Whatever. I’ll hit him up, see what he can do.”

John B was still looking at you like he was putting together every piece of the puzzle. “Alright, let’s do this shit.”

Each of you took a claim to your portion of support, JJ taking the surf crew on the beaches with a promise to not get distracted. John B was taking Sarah to speak to Rafe, leaving Kie, Pope, and Cleo to head into town. 

“Hey!” John B called out when you’d made your move to follow JJ. “You’re with me, Birdie.”

You stared at John B for a moment, trying to decide if it was worth the argument before nodding in agreement. JJ departed after kissing you again, the life slowly coming back into his face as processed the emotions he’d been going through. 

Once Sarah disappeared into the house that was addressed on Rafe’s, you realized why John B requested you to come with. 

“Why didn’t you tell me Rafe was at the house?”

You sat in the passenger seat, eyes scanning the estate in front of you as you shrugged. “Didn’t want to talk about it.”

John B sighed, his hand rubbing over his face. He was frustrated with the way you closed yourself off, but he also knew it was a defense mechanism. “You can’t shut yourself off from me, not after our conversation last night. I said we weren’t done?”

Your fingers picked at the worn interior of the Twinkie. God, you loved JB but you hated when he pulled the older brother card. “JB, please.”

John B reached over to grab your hand to stop your anxious fidgeting. He pulled slightly until you were facing him and couldn’t avoid the conversation. “You dropped a pretty heavy bomb last night. Are you okay?”

“Am I ever?” You shook your head, curling into a ball as comfortable as possible across the seat. You gave a half-assed laugh. “I don’t like that being around Rafe renders me completely useless. I don’t like that I shut down and become a ball of crying anxiety for the following day. I don’t like that, I hold you down, I weigh on the group, it-”

“Woah, woah. You do not weigh anyone, especially me, down? You hear me?” John B disagreed, tugging on your hand so you would look at him again. “Birdie, come on. You gotta talk to me.”

“I’m trying.” You pulled away to rub at your eyes and attempt to reset your brain. “God, I’m trying. It’s like wired into my head. Every time I try to think differently, it tells me I’m wrong. It’s like a self-curated internal torture that-”

“Okay words are getting too big,” John B interrupted with a shake of his head. “I told Sarah on the ferry home I’m done putting the two of you in danger. Every thing we’ve done risks one of your lives and I’m not doing it anymore, okay? That includes letting you stew with the darkness in your head. I let it happen for too long when Dad was here and I refuse to do it any longer.”

You blinked tears away as best as you could before meeting John B’s gaze again. This was your older brother, and shit had he started to act like it. JJ tended to allow you to be self-destructive because he did it to himself, so it was hard to pull someone out of something that you sunk into on your own. Apparently, John B wasn’t letting it slide anymore.

“You are so important, to me, to JJ, to Sarah, and to our friends. I know you don’t think that, and I know you let the negativity win some nights, okay? But I refuse to give up on you, and I refuse to let you fall apart in the room next to me because of some asshole who had everything handed to him his whole life, even if he’s my technical brother-in-law.”

A small laugh made its way out of you at the reminder that John B and Sarah were married in their terms, the small handcrafted rings on their fingers a new addition to prove such. You were watching them grow up right in front of you, as if you and Sarah weren’t practically the same age. Everything between John B and Sarah felt so real and mature even if they were still shotgunning beers and eating expired chips every other week.

You were grateful for Sarah’s return, even if she seemed less than pleased. Hopping out of the passenger seat, you returned to the back where you could flop down in your sorrow, despite everything John B had tried to talk into you. The energy of dealing with the hearing and attempting to rally the island wasn’t there for you, and quite frankly, you wanted a nap. 

Sarah apparently had no luck with Rafe, to which John B wasn’t surprised about. Your brother busied himself calling some connections as Sarah climbed into the back with you, the two of you laying across the blanket covered ground of the van.

“You okay?” She asked quietly as she twisted on her side to face you. “I know you’re sick of hearing that, but I wanted to ask.”

You blinked tiredly at her, but nodded. “This isn’t going to work,” You admitted honestly, knowing despite all the effort your group would put in, nothing ever worked out when the Kooks are behind it. “I want it to, but unless we get rich in the next two hours, we’re fucked.”

“I um… I know this isn’t a great time but, can I tell you something?” The shift in her tone made you concerned and you frowned but nodded nonetheless. “I haven’t had my period in… a while.”

“A while?” You repeated and pushed yourself up on your elbows to meet her height. “Sarah.”

She groaned and ran her hand across her face. “I know! I know. I should’ve… ugh. I just thought it was stress, and I don’t want to know, but I… I  think I already know.”

“Did you um… did you check?” The lump in your throat was building quickly and you tried to fake a cough to help. Shit.

She bit her lip and shook her head slowly. You nodded in understanding, silence consuming the van as the idea soak in for the two of you. 

“Does John B…?”

“No,” She answered quietly, her voice shaking. “I want to be sure, and I know things are messy right now, so I don’t want to stress him out. You were the only person I could think to tell.”

You placed your hand on her arm in comfort despite feeling like someone’s hand was squeezing your heart. “Sarah, he’s going to be so excited.”

“We just had this conversation on the ferry about it, and I… we’re so young, and I’m so scared,” She explained as she leaned back against the door. “We’re going to be homeless, and broke, and this is no environment to be raising a child in.”

“I know, but you’ll figure it out,” You reassured, “We’ll figure it out.”

Sarah nodded, tears finally breaking through as she squeezed your hand in return. She shifted forward, colliding to hug you tightly. A sob echoed through the van, whether it coming from you or her, you didn’t know. You felt like your heart was being ripped in two, pure excitement for Sarah and John B, but also a wave of sorrow for yourself and the knowledge that this feeling wouldn’t ever be yours. 

Thankfully, your brother didn’t give you time to sink further into thought as he caught sight of the two of you crying in the backseat.

“Aw, seriously? What the fuck did I miss now?”

--

a/n: sorry she's short but i'm prepping for the hottest crashout of the century next chapter

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