#these guys never do anything by halves

[victorluvsalice]

Welp, I had something else planned for Song Saturday this week, but OK Go being back on their bullshit takes precedence! :D

they are finally back on their bullshit

[3amfanfiction]

For the worms: Johnny prescribing to the idea “sharing is caring” when his newest girlfriend makes it past the two months mark (something previously thought impossible), don’t worry guys, it’s not “my girlfriend” she’s “our girlfriend”

Oh Temp you know the way to my heart. I love a good 'our girlfriend' moment. There's something so delicious about the entitlement of it, it lends a certain flavor that tickles my fancy. poly 141 x fem!reader. 7k words about (unknowingly) being the team's girlfriend. This is nothing but smut, enjoy!

~~~~

He knew you were the one the first time he met you.

You got him, in ways no one else ever had. You got his energy, his excitement, his need for stimulation. He knew he could be a lot but he also knew he'd never been too much. He'd just been waiting for someone like you.

He never listened when the guys wanted to dog on him saying no one would put up for long with how much he talked. He was a chatty guy, okay? He had a lot of thoughts running through his head and he wanted to share them with people. You never knew which thoughts were going to be strokes of genius until they're spoken after all.

And while he would talk about anything under the sun, he talked about his team most of all. Probably more than he should if he was being completely honest but it was hard not to talk about the people he loved. He was talking about you to them just as much after all. The two halves of his life overlapping as often as he could make them.

But you loved it. You loved him. It was obvious every time you told him to make sure he ate lunch as he was headed out the door, lunch bag swinging from his hand, bursting with goodies you'd packed up the night before. Every time you texted him first, took his trash with yours to throw away, brushed your hand down his arm in greeting, always winding up with your fingers tangled together as he pulled you in for a kiss. Your whole existence showed how much you loved him.

It was fate. It was perfect. It was another sign it was meant to be that it was your 2-month anniversary when you broke the news to him as you were walking him to the door one morning. He'd stayed over the night before because he knew he was going to be working late tonight so you both celebrated one day early. And what a celebration it had been. He'd stolen his three kisses at the door and was getting ready to step over the threshold when he realized just how big your heart was and the fact that you truly were listening whenever he spoke.

"Tell your team I said hi," you said, smiling sweetly up at him, sleep shirt rumpled and hair a gorgeous mess, "there's extra muffins for everyone in your bag."

Oh.

He hadn't realized—but that was okay—he should've noticed—poor lass, had he not been holding up his side of the relationship? The part where you support your partner and their needs and wants? He hadn't seen what you wanted but he understood now. You'd made your feelings known and who was he to stand in the way?

Beaming down at you he peppered your face with kisses, holding your cheeks firmly between his wide palms. Words broken up with the showering of kisses, "I'll tell them love, don't you worry—I'll tell them."

Best anniversary ever.

—

You were pleased with how your day had gone. You'd spent it picking up the house, doing a grocery run, you spent a good few hours on your hobby, and started on a dinner that would get you through lunches for the rest of the week. Your day left you feeling good so you threw on your comfiest t-shirt and sleep shorts combo and camped out on the sofa while dinner finished in the oven.

It startled you when you heard a key being inserted into your lock but you were reassured when you heard Johnny's voice on the other end. You weren't sure how he managed to talk his way into getting a key to your house so quickly but he had a way of lovingly worming his way into any opening you left. He had nearly convinced you to move in with him just last week before you realized what he was doing and put a stop to it. The man had a golden tongue.

In more ways than one.

You popped up over the couch to say hi when you were met with more than just your boyfriend. Another person stood looming at his back, dwarfing the man who made you feel small. You weren't sure what face you were making as you looked up at them, unsure of what was going on but not immediately worried. Johnny had told you enough stories that you were able to clock the man standing with him almost immediately.

"Love, this is Simon."

Right on the money.

"He's come for dinner. The other two were jealous they were gonna miss out on your cooking but they had prior plans. Just know they'd be here if they could."

What? Why was he making it sound like a hallmark moment? You tilted your chin up for a kiss as he came over to the couch, holding still while he cupped your face and pressed his hungry mouth to yours. You pulled away abashed at the racy kiss in front of company. Putting your hand to Johnny's face when it was clear he was coming in for a second go you addressed them both.

"I didn't realize either of you were coming for dinner." Your voice dropped to a whisper, "Johnny! I'm not even dressed."

"You look perfect love," he assured, looking over your outfit. "Besides, it's only Simon. And I've seen you in less. Much less." He leered at you with a smarmy smile and you couldn't help but laugh. He had a point, and you were decent, just a little rattier than you'd prefer when meeting someone for the first time. Hopefully Simon wouldn't hold it against you.

You climbed off the couch and went to greet your guest before moving to the kitchen, calling out to Johnny to set the table and get drinks ready. You hadn't planned on feeding anyone other than yourself tonight but with a creative side dish or two you had enough to go around. You'd just need to find something else for lunch but that was a problem for tomorrow. For tonight you had people to feed and you wouldn't let them go hungry.

By the time dinner was over you had a new appreciation for your boyfriend's teammate. While not particularly verbose he wasn't shy about making his opinions known. And his opinions seemed to be overwhelmingly positive.

"That was the best meal I've had in ages, dove."

You felt your cheeks heat as you smiled at him, "Thank you, Simon. It's one of my favorite dishes, I'm glad you liked it."

You looked over to see Johnny beaming as he looked back and forth between the two of you, happy as a clam to see you getting along so well. He looked like he was mentally patting himself on the back at the successful dinner. Like he had orchestrated something that was finally coming to fruition. It would be worrying if you didn't know your boyfriends penchant for good naturedly dipping his fingers into things. Nothing to do but wait and see what scheme he was cooking up in his brain.

—

You had piled the last dish into the sink when Johnny came up and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing along your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine at the unexpected touch, goosebumps popping up all along your arms before you relaxed back into him.

He was warm—heat radiating off him in waves as he pulled you to stand in front of him, turned to face him with a smile. He grinned back at you, overjoyed at having your attention.

Raising your arms you looped them around his neck, pressing close as you leaned up for a proper kiss. For all that he had sprung company on you, you were happy to see him and you had missed him today. You'd quickly found that he carved a niche out for himself, wiggling into your psyche like he belonged and conforming it around him. Now when he was gone you were left staring at an empty hole that used to be filled.

Your thoughts were pleasantly scattered, a warm contented haze settled over your mind when you felt another body slide up behind you.

You yanked your head away from Johnny only for the back of it to thud against Simon's shoulder, him penning you in between the two of them. Your felt a little like those sheep you saw in videos, held in place by a machine while they were manipulated to their owners liking. You tilted your head with a frown, trying to push back on him or away from Johnny, whichever would get you a little bit of space.

"What are you doing?"

You froze as one thick arm curled around your waist, big hand spread wide over the pudge of your stomach while the other snaked its way up your torso. He gripped your chin firmly from behind, moving you to face Johnny once more.

"Don't stop now, it was just getting good."

Johnny didn't hesitate for a moment to dive back down and press his lips to yours once more, moaning into your mouth and humping his hips forward subconsciously. You tried to turn your head to catch your breath but Simon kept you still, holding you trapped in the heady spill of Johnny's tongue and lips as they devoured yours.

You were limp by the time he eventually pulled back, a panting mess with spit-slicked lips and blown-out eyes. You looked up at him with your mind reeling until you felt another set of lips making their home on the column of your neck.

You flinched . . . or you tried to. You didn't get far with how Simon was pinning you back against his body. You turned worried eyes up towards Johnny, sure this was about to set him off, maybe start an argument about boundaries and how you were with him, Simon wasn't allowed to swan in and start taking liberties for himself.

Instead what you saw was Johnny's pupils eclipsing his irises as he strove to burn the image into his retinas. Greedy want was present in every line of his face as he watched his teammate kiss along his girlfriend's neck. That look mixed in with the shock of teeth Simon had just introduced caused you to let out a ragged gasp, filling the quiet kitchen air with your sound.

"Fuck LT," Johnny croaked, "Just like that."

"Johnny, what—" your voice wobbled as you squirmed in place—Simon finding every sensitive spot along your neck with ease. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, lass. When you told me this morning . . . I hadn't realized this was something you were wanting. I didn't see it." He looked contritely down at you, eyes flickering over to where Simon was pressing hot, wet kisses just behind your ear before darting back to yours, "But we're here now. All of us—as a team."

"I don't understand, I never said I wanted thi-IS." You ended on a yelp as the man at your back took the tip of your ear between his teeth and pinched. You swatted back at him, pushing against his forehead as he chuckled. It was almsot mean, like he liked the sound of your squeal.

"Settle down," he smirked, releasing your ear after a moment, holding it long enough to drive home that he was releasing you of his own will. "no need to cause a commotion. Like he said, we're here now."

The to stay was heavily implied by the weight of his words.

Before you knew it Johnny had leaned down once more, taking your mouth in his while Simon made headway on covering every inch of your neck with his teeth and tongue. It was a whirlwind. Groping hands slid under clothing to pull them off while trailing kisses on every new bit of cleared skin as they urged you to the bedroom. By the time you were sprawled back on the center of the mattress you'd been stripped as bare as the day you were born. Limbs akimbo. Chest heaving with gasped breaths. Unsure how you ended up here.

You watched the two men finish removing the last of their clothes before they crawled in with you, bodies pressing a wash of hot skin to yours, causing you to arch into the sensation. Simon took possession of your mouth while Johnny dove headfirst between your legs.

Your gasp at the first long stroke of his tongue along your seam was all the opening Simon needed. Caught between the double sensation of tongues, it was no surprise you quickly became a panting mess. You attempted to keep your hips from hitching but it was a losing battle, your body's instinctive reaction to get closer to the source of euphoria.

Meanwhile Simon had coaxed your tongue into his mouth and was nibbling and sucking on it in turns, your jaw cradled in his wide palm, tilting you exactly as he wanted. When you pulled your tongue back into your own mouth he took that as leave to begin tracing your lips with the point of his, dipping just inside to take sips at your mouth. Acting as if you were something to be savored. Enjoyed.

He reached down to pinch at your nipples, tugging them into hard peaks only to soothe them with his thumb when you complained. The first time you pulled away with a yip he pressed apologizing kisses down your neck and collar, ending at the abused nipple to take it into his mouth. He laved the sensitive flesh, whispering sweet words into your soft skin.

"Sorry, pretty girl, didn't mean to be so rough." Kisses and light nips with his teeth. How were his kisses so good? "We'll start gentle, yeah? Only soft touches for you tonight."

Moving back up to your mouth once more, he held you still while Johnny had you moaning, keeping your mouth fused to his, not letting you pull away for a single breath. You had to suffice yourself with stealing air when you could, an endless battle between your need to breathe and Simon's consuming kisses. You were lightheaded and woozy by the time you were able to properly pull away.

Drinking down greedy gasps of oxygen—anything to stop your swirling head. You looked down your body to see Johnny perched between your thighs, his bright blue eyes visible as he looked up at you from the cradle of your hips, paused to watch the two of you with adoration. You reached a free hand down to grab his hair, holding him in place and grinding your cunt against his mouth. Your fist clenched tightly as he went back to eating with gusto.

It was impossible for you to stay still, continuously squirming and humping your hips up into his face, chasing your high. Simon reached down and pressed a firm hand to your pelvis, pinning you in place.

"Don't you know how to keep our girl still? Do you let her squirm like this whenever I'm not here?" At Johnny's broken protest he scoffed, "Christ, I knew you needed direction, Johnny boy, but I never realized it was this bad."

Johnny muffled his dissenting keen into your wet heat at his words, humping down onto the mattress like he was the one unable to stay still. Simon looked at you and grinned meanly.

"Well, doll? How about it? Does he give you what you need or does he let you walk all over him?"

You were unable to do anything but shake your head in negation, no verbal response forthcoming. Simon turned to look down at Johnny once more.

"Well? Do I need to show you how to do it properly?" He cocked an eyebrow as he looked down his nose when Johnny drew back from your warmth, separating to draw in a few deep breaths, "It doesn't look like you know what you're doing down there." Simon reached down and palmed the back of Johnny's head, pushing him further into your cunt. "Get a good taste. I wanna see drool dripping down your chin by the time you're done. You should have slick up to your ears and she should be drenched down to the bedsheets." He ignored both of your moans, "Didn't realize I'd have to order you around in the bedroom too, just an unruly little pup, aren't you?"

The constant flow of words from his lieutenant only caused Johnny to become more fervored. Licking into you with abandon, he shifted to free one hand, moving up to press two fingers all the way to the knuckles in one fell swoop. Your wetness ensuring he slid in with no difficulties, a smooth glide with only the stretch to betray the insertion.

You couldn't help the moan that slipped out. A great climbing thing that started deep in your chest and worked its way out of your throat with a rumble. It was the work of moments for you to be right on the edge standing at the precipice, looking down onto your first orgasm of the night.

"There we go Johnny, you've got it now. That's just what she needed, huh? Needed a couple of fingers stuck up into her, something to squeeze. We can help her out with that."

Listening to Simon continue to rumble filth into the air and watching him lean down to press his mouth to Johnny's ear, whispering murmured words you couldn't make out was all you needed for that final push.

The heat that had been steadily building coalesced in your lower back and thighs, the visual of the two of them all the spark you needed to set it alight. Your toes curled and your back arched as you tried to get closer to where Johnny was sucking on your clit with pursed lips. A sobbed Johnny! all you were able to verbalize through the onslaught.

Coming back to yourself you were met with Johnny and Simon watching you with avarice, greedy for every expression that crossed your face. You focused on Johnny and saw an absolutely drenched face. He heard what Simon had said about slick from ear to ear and had made sure to accomplish it. Order received and all that. You would be mortified if you didn't feel so good.

You were limp as they moved to rearrange you, Simon sliding in behind your back as Johnny moved to kneel between your thighs, hard cock bobbing in the air. You felt Simon's wet head kissing the small of your back and tried to grind back—give him some sort of satisfaction in this ménage à trois you had happening.

He reached down to snag your hips, stilling you and pressing his mouth directly to your ear, hot air brushing the sensitive skin as he murmured, "None of that now. My turn will be later, we're focusing on Johnny this time."

And focus on Johnny you did. He shuffled himself forward, wasting no time in sinking home into your wet heat. Dual groans punched out of both of your chests as he fully seated himself in one go. You panted—breathing through the stretch as he did the same, trying to stop himself from reaching the finish line prematurely.

Simon didn't wait for you to regain your composure, he held two fingers up to your mouth tapping on your lower lip, "Suck pet," before he dragged them down to your clit, circling the puffy bundle of nerves still sensitive from Johnny's prior ministrations. He picked up a steady rhythm as Johnny gave the first tentative thrust. You couldn't help but clench down, enjoying the hitched moan it pulled out of him.

He recovered quickly and set out to pull those same moans from you, wanting every sound that dripped from your lips. He was relentless in his chase, making sure to use all the tips and tricks he'd picked up over the last couple of months to wring out every iota of satisfaction he could. He leaned forward, pinning Simon's hand between your bodies.

"Tell us how it feels, love," he panted into your mouth, pressing bruising kisses to your lips. "How good is my cock making you feel?"

Try as you might, you couldn't do more than chant his name, a steady stream of Johnny falling from your tongue. He was consuming your every thought, everything bound up in a tangled snarl that was added to with each slick glide of his cock.

Simon pulled his fingers away from your clit but didn't move his hand, keeping it pinned as he reached further down to do something to Johnny. All you were witness to was the way his eyes went wide and unfocused, a little furrow making its appearance on his brow as he paused and pressed into Simon's hand. He let out a sharp yip at whatever Simon was doing before finally moving back, giving the other man room to return to strumming your clit unimpeded.

You were caught between the push and pull of the two of them. Simon resting at your back to whisper lewd words directly into your brain while Johnny made his home inside of you, carving out a space that would always remember him.

It was overwhelming.

You normally turned into a pile of putty with only Johnny's hands on you. Now that there were two of them? You felt like you never knew where the next touch would come from. You would only just find a way to breathe with the circling of your clit for hands to suddenly make their appearance at your nipples. Come to terms with fingers at your nipples just to feel teeth latch onto your neck. They kept you guessing with each movement.

Johnny was doing an admirable job of building you towards your next peak, soft rolls of his hips stroking every sensitive spot inside of you, but apparently it wasn't enough for Simon.

"Hitch her hips up, Johnny. I want you fucking her like you mean it." He stared Johnny down, "If you can't put your back into it then I can relieve you."

"I know how to do it," Johnny sniped back, "Don't forget, I've been in her bed a lot longer than you have." You jolted, unused to having such a harsh tone in your house, let alone in your bed.

Simon saw your jerk and quipped back, "Behave, pup. I won't have you barking and growling around our girl." Simon slid out from behind you, laying you gently back on the pillows with one lingering kiss before coming around to Johnny's side. "Now are you going to listen to what I say or do you need me to step in?"

Johnny chewed on his words, still slowly pumping into you with soft propels of his hips. For a moment you were certain he was going to push back, to dig his feet in and argue with every word that came out of Simon's mouth. Your boyfriend was sweet, but not exactly levelheaded. It surprised you when he came to a decision and listened to what he was being told. You'd have to sneak aside later and get tips and tricks from Simon before he left. Anything to make your life a little easier.

Taking your hips he stuffed a pillow underneath, angling you upwards as he slid back inside. Your matching moans at the new position caused something almost gleeful to cross Simon's expression.

"There we go, I knew you had it in you to mind. You just needed someone bigger to put you in your place, didn't you?"

Johnny had no rebuttal beyond the stuttering of his hips at the comment, swallowing heavily before resuming his rhythm. The steady thwaps filled the humid air of the bedroom, playing background to your whines, Johnny's harsh pants and Simon's filth.

"There we go, just like that," he murmured, voice low and soft, "You're taking it so well sweetheart, is our boy doing a good job for you?"

"Yes," you panted, eager to agree to anything as long as they didn't stop, "So good."

"You hear that Johnny? Said you're doing a good job."

Johnny outright whimpered at the praise, hips stuttering and breath catching in his throat. Simon leaned over Johnny's shoulder and pressed his lips right against his ear. You watched his jaw move as he spoke—voice too low to make out any of the words. Johnny's face was a rictus of pleading pleasure. His expression frozen except for small twitches of his eyebrows, gaze shuttered and staring at your face as he panted. He lasted a few more thrusts before burying himself deeply with a low cry.

Simon laughed scornfully, "Ah poor Johnny boy, did you come already?" He listened to Johnny's overstimulated whine as he grabbed his hips and kept Johnny pushing into you, the wet squelch only proving that he was fucking his spend deeper inside. "Well I don't care if it's too much. You came before our girl, we can't have that." He gave a mean smile, "you're gonna keep fucking her until I tell you to quit."

"I—I can't Simon," Johnny panted, overstimulated nerves causing his muscles to spasm and twitch. "I can't go anymore."

"You want to stop? Then ask me nicely. Go ahead," Simon taunted, a wicked grin curving along his mouth, "Beg."

It was exactly the right wrong thing to say. You watched as Johnny's mouth fell open and his head tilted back, shiny tears springing up along his waterline to spill out from the corners as you felt another warm wave of heat inside. His second orgasm seemed to wring every bit out of him—his face locked in a pained grimace.

He tried to jerk backwards, tried to pull his hips from yours but Simon wasn't having it. He dug his fingers tightly into your hips, arms wrapped around either side of Johnny's waist and pressed firmly against his back, pinning Johnny between the two of you and not giving the whimpering man an inch of space.

"I told you, you're not done until she comes." Using his own hips he helped propel Johnny into you, helping you move to grind on Johnny's dick at the end of each thrust. "You know what you need to do to finish this."

"Please," the other man burst out, unable and willing to withhold any longer, "Please, Simon, need your help. Need you to help me." Tears continued rolling down his cheeks.

"That's all I needed, sweet boy."

Moving one of his hands he dropped his thumb onto your clit after swiping up along your slit, pausing to tease right beneath the head of Johnny's cock on a pullback just to hear him whimper again. With the slick pressure rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves combined with the relentless fucking and stunning visual you were falling apart within moments.

Light burst behind your eyes and your ears started ringing. You knew you were clenching tightly around Johnny's cock but you were unable to spare the thought to see what he looked like as you came. You fell back into your body as the sensations died down, literally falling back onto the bed where you had been arched so sharply only your shoulders were still touching.

As you became aware of your surroundings you watched Simon allow Johnny to pull back, both of you whining at the sensation of him pulling out completely. He flopped to one side of the bed while his chest heaved like bellows, a ruddy flush covering his face and chest. Shiny sweat lined his brow, glistening in the dim evening light.

You didn't have time to rest or take in your boyfriend for long before you were grabbed by the hips, Simon's fingers digging into your plush sides as he pulled you into a position he liked.

Your legs were thrown over his forearms before you realized it, feet dangling in the air and hands coming up to grasp onto his shoulders. As he leaned forward you acutely realized how powerless you were, pinned completely beneath his bulk, no leverage to be seen to get you out.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your own heaving chest causing your pebbled nipples to brush up against his torso, teasing little flicks of sensation to add to everything running through your body.

He notched himself at your entrance with a groan, swiping back and forth, coating the head in your wetness. Finding an angle he liked, he began pushing in.

You whimpered at the burn as he stretched you, even still after Johnny had just had you. You shuddered thinking about taking him without being stretched first, likely a harrowing undertaking. He continued rocking back and forth with small thrusts, each one inching deeper and deeper. Each withdraw causing more of both yours and Johnny's come to escape.

"I know it's a lot, but you can take it. All the way in, all the way to the back, sweetheart."

It knocked the breath out of your lungs when he seated himself inside. A heavy weight felt through your pelvis as his length pried apart muscle to make room for itself. You were afraid you'd feel him inside for the rest of your life. Another gaping chasm when he wasn't there.

It took him the space of a few heartbeats to get situated before he began to move with rhythm, a strong, steady roll of his hips knocking you up the bed with each drive.

Whatever remaining thoughts you might have had spilled out your ears. Nothing able to penetrate the fog he was putting you in with his movements. Your brain became a haze—no worries, no fears—nothing but the feelings he was stoking inside you.

Each time he slid in full you felt him kiss your cervix at the back of your channel. The quick pinch only increasing the pleasure you felt. The mix of the two giving gradients that weren't usually seen, hues bursting behind your eyelids at the sensation.

Proportionately large, he touched every soft spot inside of you simultaneously, a constant wave of endorphins flooding your brain and leaving you a gibbering mess. You clawed at him looking for purchase but unable to find any, inescapably swept away in his tide.

How did you end up here? Under the body of your boyfriends best friend. Because he was his best friend, no matter that Simon would never verbalize it. They were two sides of a coin—better together.

You let your head flop to the side, looking at Johnny passed out and half hanging off the bed on the far side, snuffling breaths a steady back-drone to the slap of skin on skin from you and Simon. You were out of your mind with pleasure, brain unable to spark two neurons together to come up with a thought. It was all white noise to you, unable to focus on anything other than the sensations Simon was drawing from your body.

That was why it was so jarring when two more bodies made their presence known standing beside you on the bed, wide shoulders blocking out the light leaving them draped in shadows.

You let out a huff of a startled scream, no breath in your lungs to get proper volume when hands came up to tweak your nipple and tuck your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

Simon gave a rumbling groan as all your muscles clenched and you bucked up in fear, tossing your head to try and get them off of you. You started to whimper and bat haphazardly at their hands trying to pull yourself away from Simon at the same time but the grip he had on your hips didn't allow you to go anywhere.

"Shh," he gentled, "you're okay, nothing here's gonna hurt you, sweet girl." He never slowed his thrusts, "It's just the rest of the team. That's Gaz and that's the captain." Bone-jarring thuds as his pelvis met the fat of your backside, sharp slap slap slaps echoing through the room.

"What?" you stammered, "I—I thought that—"

"Didn't think we'd let anything happen to you, did you?" he asked with furrowed brows, "Let something happen to our girl?" he scoffed in amusement. "Try again."

Oh. That's—that wasn't—you weren't—

But you couldn't verbalize any of your thoughts. You'd thought you'd been at the end of your stamina before but these two men brought fresh energy to the bedroom. Looking at both of them you recognized Kyle and John from all of Johnny's stories.

"Have you been taking good care of our girl, Simon?"

"Yes sir, Johnny gave her two and I'm working towards a third."

"Good man."

With the team complete the dynamic subtly changed. Where before it had been Simon giving the orders, he now defaulted to his captain, happy to let him take the lead as he directed Kyle and Simon to his own beat.

It was the work of minutes for John and Kyle to strip each other and climb into the crowded bed to join you.

You were too fucked out to muster any proper response so you let them move you as they pleased, content to be a doll placed into the perfect position.

Kyle moved to cuddle up to you up near your face, the cut of his abs all you could focus on for a second before you dragged your gaze up to his face. He smiled down at you charmingly, perched up on an elbow to hover over you, ensuring he was all you could see for a moment.

"We've heard so much about you," he murmured, holding his smile while looking gorgeous enough to stop your heart. "I can't believe we're finally all here together."

Heard so much about you? What had Johnny been telling them? What had he been sharing about your personal life to his team that they thought this was normal? You didn't get a chance for the thoughts to make more than a fleeting impression before they were gone again—the finger on your clit requiring your full attention.

You looked down past Kyle to see John with a hand between your thighs, stroking at the bud before dipping down to gather the wetness that was still being pulled out of you by Simon who hadn't paused. He ran his fingers along where you two joined, dampening his fingertips before resuming his stroking. You couldn't keep still at the sensation, legs jerking and jumping as your nervous system tried to make heads or tails of what was happening to it.

He made short work of coaxing you back into another orgasm, sparks lighting up behind your eyelids as you convulsed, squeezing Simon between your legs and gripping the hand that Kyle had threaded through yours for dear life. Your hips stuttered in their movement, caught between chasing the last sparks of pleasure and pulling away from the steadily overwhelming sensations John was easing out.

It was a relief when he pulled away, letting you begin making headway in catching your breath once more. You watched him reach up with his slick hand to clasp Simon by the back of the neck.

"All right, my boy, now for you."

Simon took this as all the permission he needed to chase his own end with a vengeance. He rutted into you with no finesse, using you for his own gratification as he allowed himself the orgasm he had been denying. It took no time at all before he sunk as deeply as possible, holding there as he emptied himself into you. You felt the heat of him filling you, his cock acting like a stopper keeping it all tucked tight and high inside your channel.

When he eventually pulled back a wave of fluid came with him, dripping down to the bed and coating your thighs. You couldn't do more than gasp—still working on catching your breath. Your head flopped over to look at Kyle, holding your hand clenched in his. He smiled at you and came in for a kiss.

At this point you didn't even think of turning your head away. You simply laid there and let him into your mouth, this man who you technically hadn't even met but who you felt like you'd known for years. All of Johnny's stories doing a wonderful job of painting these three men in such a way you were sure you'd met them a hundred times before.

Kyle's kiss was all consuming. He masterfully played with your lips and tongue, keeping you chasing him while he devoured you. It was wet and obscene and so, so good. He tasted faintly of peppermint, remnants of gum or a mint he had chewed earlier. It had you searching the corners of his mouth, looking for his flavor.

He smiled into the kiss before pressing two quick pecks to your lips and pulling back, giving you space to think. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been fucked six ways from Sunday," you managed, cueing a round of laughter from the three men. By now you'd caught your breath and were watching them with wide eyes, waiting to see what they'd do next. Simon had moved to sit over next to Johnny as John patted at your hip.

"Do you think you have one more in you or are you calling it?" he asked, looking unbothered by what your answer might be. Like he knew this wasn't the only time he'd have you in this position and being lenient was no trouble.

You nodded your head firmly, "I can keep going."

"Atta girl."

You felt your face heat at those words as your gaze darted away, embarrassed at how much you liked it. Even while you were spread out bare for them to view this felt like a peek behind the curtain, a glimpse of something too personal to make light of. You had a feeling you could climax from him whispering those words in your ear with his deep rumble at just the right time.

Without a doubt John realized what effect his words had on you if his amused grin was any indication. Thankfully he let it be, not calling attention to your expression. You didn't know he was shelving the thought until later; he had no intention of not pursuing the lead.

Helping you up he turned you so you were on your hands and knees facing Kyle with John's heat radiating into the back of your thighs. He checked in with an Okay, sweetheart? which you reassured him on before he pressed close as Kyle shuffled forward. Slotting his hips into yours he dragged his leaking cock through the mess between your thighs, the damp head bumping against your clit in a tease with each thrust.

"We've heard a lot about you," John noted, trailing a hand along your spine, enjoying the feel of smooth, soft skin. "Soap has practically talked our ears off since you met. Along with how amazing you are, he makes sure to tell us how pretty you are and how nice you smell." You felt him leaning over you and pressing his nose to the crown of your head, "I've gotta say, he was right on all accounts."

A shudder worked its way down your spine at the praise.

Pulling back, he lined himself up with your opening and slid inside in one smooth stroke. As your mouth dropped open to moan Kyle tapped the tip of your tongue with his cock, encouraging you to stick it out for him. He pressed inside when you did and you groaned deep in your throat at his flavor, salt and musk invading your nose as he cupped your head gently between his two palms, holding you steady.

You thought you had been done before, no longer able to continue, to ride the wave of ecstasy any more. They proved you wrong with their wandering hands tweaking nipples and strumming your clit.

It felt like it had been years and minutes both as they bounced you between the two of them. You would grow accustomed to the shape of Kyle in your throat only for John to pull you back, rearranging your organs with the strength of his thrusts.

You didn't know which way was up, your only concern was timing your breaths to Kyle's thrusts, keeping your teeth tucked away from any sensitive skin. Hollowing your cheeks you fought to keep suction, John doing his level best to ensure you couldn't find a comfortable rhythm.

The whole time you were spinning tighter and tighter. A wave building down deep behind your bellybutton, fed with each thrust from the two men. Your body welcoming them in.

The wave continued to build, higher and higher. Larger than you'd ever thought possible. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying in equal measures.

What was going to become of you when it crashed? Were you going to be able to be put back together or would you be destined to live out your life as shattered remains, always thinking back to the last night you'd been whole, the last night you hadn't needed others to hold you together like Kintsugi.

John continued thrusting behind you, never stopping, never faltering. He was relentless and driven and you were the finish line he had set his eyes on. You were the end goal that he would see through, come hell or high water.

It sparked something dark deep within your psyche. Something decadent.

Your last climax of the night rolled over you. Starting down low in your abdomen it grew and grew, fed into by each of the men that you had let into your bed tonight. It became too large to ignore, this gaping maw of want that was flooding your blood and your brain, changing your chemical makeup in its wake. You were pretty sure you screamed.

Both of their pants came harshly now as they fought for some semblance of control beyond the tight clutch of your cunt and throat.

John finished next, stamina no match for the silken glide of your cunt, sucking the oxygen from his blood with each press inside of you. But Kyle was shortly behind him. If you didn't know any better you'd say the sight and sound of his captain coming is what pushed him over the edge.

Certainly something to think about later.

It's comforting hands that helped you lay down once you were done, tucked between Simon and Kyle, Johnny still passed out with his foot and arm draped off the side. You were curled into Kyle's chest as you watched John pull on a pair of boxers.

"I'll go get us some water and towels, you all stay put."

You were far to exhausted to think of the ramifications of what had happened here tonight. Instead you were content to curl into warm skin and enjoy the feeling of Simon's arm thrown around your waist.

When John came back with the water you had a moment of laughter when you realized the bed was packed full with the four of you currently and there wasn't a spare inch for John to lay down. Instead he went to sit at the foot, tapping Kyle's feet so he would curl his legs up a bit.

"Anybody broken?" He asked, staring at you while he spoke. It was clear he expected you to be the one to voice any discontent.

"Nope," you yawned, crashing hard now that you were laying still, "right as rain."

"Good. We'll talk this all over in the morning sweetheart. For now, sleep."

Kyle kissed your forehead while Simon curled around you tighter. Tomorrow. You could figure it all out tomorrow. That sounded like a wonderful plan considering you were already drifting away to the soft sounds of breathing.

Next

[formosusiniquis]

This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

---

“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

[ivymarquis]

Not me vividly hallucinating about a certain scot eating me out until I cry

What you wish for

Pairing| John “Soap The Munch (tm)” MacTavish x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| ~500 Kinks/Content/Warnings| Cunnilingus, squirting, mentions of safe word, Johnny is A Munch(tm), the author is an American still trying to dial in a Scottish accent

Date a munch, they said.

It would be fun, they said.

And it is, for the most part- you can admit that with no hardship.

It’s just that occasionally (like now), it becomes obvious that Johnny is eating you out for his pleasure and your own is just a happy by-product.

“Shit, ah! Johnny! I’m gonna- hgn- Johnny I’m gonna cum,” you pant in warning as the Scot buried between your thighs goes to town on you like a man starved.

Every time this man drops to his knees in front of you, it is a guarantee you’re going to see stars.

This time he’s got you pinned on your back on the bed. You seem to be wiggling too much for his taste as he’s banded one forearm across your waist and the other hand grips one thigh to keep your legs spread for him.

No matter how much you cry and moan and buck and cant your hips, he just leans his weight on you to keep you still.

He alternates between broad swipes with the flat of his tongue or more pointedly circling your clit or lapping at the inside of you.

While he’s yet to disappoint, he really seems into it (re: you) today. Like teetering on has-something-to-prove into it.

With that sort of dedication and attention, it’s no wonder he’s got you squirting and squealing in record time as he slips two fingers inside and abuses that spot that has you seeing stars.

Johnny works you through your high, lapping up every drop of it like it’s his last meal. Your legs twitch weakly in his hold as he continues on.

You think that maybe he’s working himself down, that he’ll leave you be in a minute.

He doesn’t.

Less attention is paid directly to your clit, but he’s still honed in between your legs even as you squirm. “Johnny,” his voice is a whine in your throat. “Johnny I came- I already came,” like there was any possibility that he is unaware of that- given how you squirted all over his face.

He pulls off momentarily, eying you with a skeptical look. “The fuck’s that got to do with me, bonnie? Cum or don’t, I'm finished when I'm finished.”

Your brain needs a system reboot at that- you stare at the ceiling dumbly as he gets back to business.

He’s trying to kill you- there’s no other explanation for it.

(Distantly you remember how your ex never went down you- still expected head on a routine basis, of course!- and you swore that the next guy you dated would have to be okay with reciprocation. You certainly got your wish in spades, hadn’t you? Almost like the universe was apologizing in the most mind-melting way possible)

It’s all you can do to lay there and breathe. If it actually gets to be too much- well, that’s what safewords are for. But Jesus fucking Christ the man doesn’t do anything in halves.

It’s only after he’s wrenched your second orgasm from you that he lets up, crawling up the bed to collapse to the side of you.

“Soon as my legs quit twitching, I’m returning the favor,” it takes you a couple tries to stammer out the words. Johnny looks every bit like the cat that caught the canary.

“Oh I’m no done with that sweet cunt o’ yours- ye just looked like ye were gonna pass oot. We’ll give ye a break an then back tae it, hm?”

[ruruvxz]

brat - SNEAK PEAK

Lara Raj x Female Reader x Megan Skiendiel

~ synopsis: You've never really been an emotional drunk, that was until your boyfriend left you for your closest friend that things started to spiral for you. Tonight at one of you recurring escapades at one of the locals pubs near your apartment, you unknowingly stumble across two girls. Two girls you didn't know now, who would change the trajectory of your life, whether it was for the good— or the bad, you just needed something to take you off the edge. And so, Lara and Megan knew exactly how to do that, but at what cost?

~ cw: three part series, alcoholism, commitment issues, mentions of previous relationship with a man, fluff, swearing, love triangle(?), everyone here is toxic

~ wc: N/A

(a/n: sigh. I’m gonna discontinue “the woman who left too soon” LAWL!!! Cus these apps pmo and literally take so much storage 💔💔I’m going back to writing cus that’s so much easier. anyways sneak peak ^_^)

brat,

365 PARTYGIRL, B2B, GIRL SO CONFUSING

Lara and Megan never had the issue of sharing, even during training days, they managed to share everything they owned with one another. Their clothes, their jewelry, and even their secrets, no aspect about themselves wasn't shared with one another. The bond between the two girls was unshakable, though that didn't negate the fact that in some circumstances both the girls could be quite... passionate. After a long marathon of double dates, they couldn't possibly find their other halves, each guy and girl who they spoke to didn't ignite a spark within them.

Maybe staying single would've been a lot easier, but that's boring! Both the girls took their only opportunity to sneak out to seek refuge in a club, not seeking anything more but to get lucky tonight. That was until they stood sipping on their cheap beer when Lara set her eyes on your figure. The obnoxious lighting made it hard to tell you out, but her odd fascination drew her closer to you. What felt like hours of staring for Lara, was mere seconds for Megan, as her interest also piqued.

"Who the hell are you looking at, Lara?" Megan pried, tugging onto Lara's waist belt loop, Lara only gave a little head nudge at the general direction of where you stood. Megan fixated her eyes, grasping at the glass, her eyes widened when the light reflected from your infectious smile.

Maybe it was the ambience of the club, but she was instantly hooked and Lara sensed that the ginger had similar intentions as her. "Isn't she gorgeous?" Lara mumbled, watching the Hawaiian as she checked the girl out from the other side of the bar. "I'm gonna talk to her—“ Megan spoke, about to walk off before her wrist was quickly nabbed by the desi girl.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The red head bit as she yanked her back over to the table, "I literally saw her first, so why would YOU ever go over there and talk to her Mei."

Megan scoffed as she pulled her hand away from Lara's grasp, ‘What the hell was her problem' Megan thought before she spoke. "What are you even on about, if you care so much how about you talk to her then."

"Great idea, Meg." The desi laughed before pushing Megan out of the way, leaving the ginger utterly shocked at her change of demeanor. "Wha- Come back here! I was kidding!"

Lara just laughed at the ginger trying to plead her case, turning in her heels to walk into your general vicinity, practically hopping over to you as your friends you where previously with dispersed. Bringing the shot glass to your lips, you took another fiery swig of the vodka, your eyes almost bloodshot, as tears were biting back from pouring. ‘Shit, where you crying?’ Lara thought as she approached you, from a far, the way you laughed, and smiled, she wouldn’t have ever expected in a million years that you’d look so disheartened.

But of course, that didn’t sway her, not one bit, once she was fixated on something, it was hard for her to ever let it go. She approached closer to you, your hands slithering to another shot of vodka the bartender quickly poured for you. Despite everything, you still looked as wonderful in her eyes, she’s seen her fair share of broken things, but you by far were the most beautiful of them all.

The way the strobe lights bounced off your face, or the way everything seemed so fitted to your body as you sat letting trickles of liquid fall down from your lips towards your chin. It made her look insane just staring at you. And despite how you lacked any sobriety in your bones, you noticed her looming presence almost instantly. Even in this club setting she stuck out like a sore thumb, she was much too pretty to be loitering around a place like this, and she didn’t look all that much of a plentiful drinker.

She approached your seat on the bar, sitting on your left hand side, trying her hardest to be slick, but it very much came off as the opposite. You jerked your head up to look at her, giving her a soft smile before indicating for two more shots. Lara looked at you in disbelief where you really going to have two more shots? That was until the bartender handed you the two drinks that you slid one over to her with a smile.

The silence between the two was palpable, she just stared down at the shot awkwardly as you carefully watched her reaction. It took a minute or two before finally breaking the silence between the both of you. “You got a staring problem.” You slurred, coming off more aggressive than you’d like, “What?” She bit staring back at her as her eyebrow raised.

“Haha— No sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” You hiccuped raising your head up and turning your body towards her, “I meant like… fuck— You just kept staring, I was wondering if you wanted to say something.” You laugh indicating at where she stood beforehand, clearly insinuating that you had seen both her and Megan staring at you moments prior.

“Ah…” The redhead gasped, before laughing with you loudly, the interaction flowed seamlessly as she spoke. “No, sorry, you were right. I was just taken aback by you— your breathtaking.” She complimented, raising up the vodka and taking a fast swing at it.

“Oh! So I guess we both misunderstood the situation!” You giggle softly to yourself before doing the same, taking a swing at your glass and practically leaving it empty as you place it back down on the countertop.

“Anywho I’m Y/N, nice to meet you…?”

“Lara.”

“Nice to meet you Lara.” The way she spoke felt like swimming in honey, it was slow and addictive, not to mention the fact she looked at you like her next meal made it all the more enjoyable as you chatted about mindless conversation. Although this didn’t go unnoticed by the poor roommate Lara just ditched, her blood seemingly boiled seeing the two of you.

Not only had Lara managed to bag another girl that Megan had wanted, but the fact that she ditched her was the icing on top. And lord knows Megan wasn’t just gonna let that slide, the ginger hooked her handbag over her shoulder and walked over to the two girls. Angrily plopping a seat on your right side, shooting Lara a dangerous look before persuading the bartender to get her any beverage he could conjure up. Honestly the desi girl couldn’t care less, but she was amused by the Hawaiian and her antics, so she continued to shoot her shot at you.

“You know… you’re absolutely stunning— has anyone told you that?” She complimented, bringing her hand up over to the edge of a strand of hair, twirling it for a moment before pulling away.

Before you could speak, the bartender handed you an espresso martini that you never ordered, “Oh! Uhm sir this isn’t mine…” You mumbled as you raised the glass towards him, the ginger girl who sat next to you spoke up.

“It is yours.” The girl laughed, “I ordered it for you, pretty.” She giggled pointing at the glass and then pointed at herself, “You look like someone who’d enjoy a good cocktail.” Megan smiled as she raised her hand out to shake your hand, and you reciprocated the gesture. “Megan. And you?”

“Hah… thank you Megan… Gosh I feel so popular today.” You joked, referring to the two girls who suddenly started talking to you, your back faced to Lara as she glared into Megan’s soul, mentally cursing her out for ruining the perfect moment. Megan laughed at your witty response, looking at Lara, sticking her tongue out playfully before focusing back to you.

“I wouldn’t doubt it you’re beautiful.” Megan slyly complimented, bringing her hand to your shoulder, leaving the redhead to scowl at her actions. “I second that.” Lara butted in, bringing her hand onto your other shoulder.

“Haha…” You laugh awkwardly sensing the tension between the two girls, before jerking your head over to the entrance of the club, watching two familiar silhouettes. Your best friend— well ex best friend and her new boyfriend— YOUR BOYFRIEND hand in hand, with no care in the world. “Shit!” You shouted to yourself, catching the two girls off guard as you ducked down to hide your face. The whole reason you came to these clubs to drink your heart out was because of them, and now they were out here ruining your perfect ‘sanctuary’.

“Y/n! Are you okay?” Megan spoke up as you hid your head onto the counter. “No!”

[minisugakoobies]

I Know | KSY

Pairing: Hoshi x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, established relationship, dancer!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: drunk hoshi, grumpy woozi, hoshi is absolutely whipped for reader, this is honestly just very soft and sweet!

Word Count: 816

Disclaimers: none, other than I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Even when he's passed-out drunk, Hoshi still manages to amaze you with his love.

Text Prompt: boyfriend texted me "my love I am intoxicated" and then five minutes later, his best friend sends me a photo of him, passed out, phone in hand, and zoomed in on one of my selfies - tweet from himbowithnofear

A/N: I'm back with another installment of my "texts from svt" series. At some point I'll make a masterlist, but for now, please enjoy this short lil' fic about my favorite affectionate drunk, Hoshi. Fun fact, I've actually had this one finished for a while, but couldn't resist posting Mingyu first!

Unbeta'd as usual. I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

“Please come get your man.”

Jihoon’s grumpy request is the first thing you hear when you answer your phone. 

“Hey, Jihoon, how are you?” you laugh, unsurprised by his opening plea. Ten minutes ago, you’d received the following message from your boyfriend:

LOML: my love, i am  intoxicatedd

And had been waiting to hear from Jihoon ever since. Though you were a little surprised that he was video calling you instead of just calling or texting.

“To be honest with you, I’m not great right now. And it’s all your boyfriend’s fault.” 

You can’t help but laugh loudly. Jihoon scowls. 

“Why are you upset with Soonyoung? I thought you guys were celebrating tonight.” 

“Because.” Jihoon flips the camera. There’s your man, all 178 cm of him, snoring his ass off in the corner booth. “He’s driving the other customers out of my bar.”

If you’re being honest, you’d been expecting this moment long before Jihoon called you. Soonyoung had gone out for drinks with several of his friends to celebrate one of them getting a new job, and you knew your lightweight boyfriend would feel compelled to try to keep up with those lushes as always. Not at their insistence, but out of his own desire. It was a point of pride for him. 

“Don’t worry. I’m on my way.” 

“Thank you. Please hurry.” Jihoon winces. “I know he calls himself a tiger, but he really snores like a damn bear.” 

You laugh again, about to disconnect, when Jihoon makes a sudden noise of delight. 

“Hold on,” he chuckles, and the screen zooms in on the phone still clutched in Soonyoung’s hand. “Do you see that?” 

It’s you looking back at you. From a photo, one that you recognize immediately as one of Soonyoung’s self-proclaimed favorites, from the weekend you’d spent at the beach last summer. It’s actually a wide shot of you standing in front of a gorgeous sunset, soft pink light dancing on your skin, and that knowledge makes you smile right now. Because it means that your drunk sap of a boyfriend zoomed in on your face, right before he passed out. Probably to dream about you. 

Soonyoung never did anything by halves. Not dancing. Not drinking. 

And definitely not loving you.  

“Come get your simp.” With a grin, Jihoon disconnects.

Tossing your phone into the front pocket of the oversized hoodie of Soonyoung’s that you’re wearing, you grab your keys and head for the door. 

It’s not a long drive to the bar. Inside, you make a beeline for the booth in the back, familiar with the space around you. It’s basically your second home, between being best friends with the owner, and dating (though he’d never admit it) his favorite patron. And, speak of the devil, there he is, the love of your life, head on the table, mouth open, rattling the glasses on the table with his powerful exhalations. 

Something else Soonyoung doesn’t do by halves - sleeping.

Jihoon nods at you from across the bar. All of Soonyoung’s other friends are nowhere to be found, likely having gone home once Jihoon reassured them you were on your way. 

Ignoring the common advice regarding sleeping tigers, you slide onto the bench and gently lay your hand on Soonyoung’s back to shake him awake. 

“Soonyoungieeeee, time to get up,” you trill sweetly into his ear, brushing his dark hair out of his face.

He cracks an eye open. “Baby?” he asks groggily. “Is it time to go to work?” 

“No, dingdong, it’s Saturday. And you’re at Jihoon’s, remember?” 

“Oh.” Soonyoung sits up, looks around. “Right. Oh!” His eyes get wide. “Baby! Those hyungs got me soooo drunk!” 

Laughing, you brush some chip crumbs off his cheek. “I know, ‘youngie.”

“Yeah.” Soonyoung’s eyes slip unfocused as he smiles. “Wait. You weren’t here and now you are.” He hiccups himself into a confused frown. “Why are you here?” 

“To take you home, dingdong.” Running your fingers through his hair again, you grin. 

Soonyoung looks at you and you swear you see his pupils turn into hearts. “You’re taking me home? With you? To your home?” 

You shake your head, gently tugging his beanie down over his ears. “How many shots did they make you take? Yes, you’re coming with me. To our apartment, where we both live.”

“We live together!” Soonyoung’s eyes disappear behind his cheeks as he grins. “You love me!” 

“Yes, I do,” you laugh, yanking on his arm to get him onto his feet. He wobbles slightly, so you duck under his arm, trying to steady him, but he interprets this in another way, cupping your face to pull you in for a slightly clumsy but rather passionate kiss. 

“I love you, too,” he whispers, nose bumping repeatedly into your cheek as you start to lead him towards the exit. 

“I know, ‘youngie,” you repeat with a soft smile. “I know.” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi. Could you write a rafe smut with 16 and 7 ‘’Be a good girl and spread your legs.’’ + ‘’Does that turn you on?’’

Here it is, part 2 of Rave x Thornton!reader (part 1 here)

Warnings: 18+, smut, p + v, mention of oral (f receiving)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It was past 1am when the boys came home from the club. Judging by the voices, Topper's 23rd birthday had been well celebrated. Your brother didn't abuse alcohol very often, but you could hear his drunk voice talking to Rafe in the hallway. 

 You laughed quietly. Happy birthday, Top!

You heard his door close, then shortly after Rafe's opened. He didn't turn on the big light, moving around in his bedroom as he was taking off his clothes and tossing them in a corner before going into his en-suite bathroom for a quick shower. 

When he came out of his shower, that’s when he noticed you in his bed. 

‘’What are you doing in here?’’ he asked, a white towel wrapped around his waist. 

You didn’t move from the comfort of his pillows. ‘’I told you I was taking your bed.’’

‘’I never agreed to that. Get out.’’ Rafe dropped his towel and opened one of his dresser’s drawers to pull out a pair of clean underwear. He didn't care that you saw anything. It was nothing you hadn't seen before - or tasted.

You propped yourself up on the pillows, grinning mischievously. ‘’Come on, Rafe, you’re really gonna kick me out at this hour of the night? I’m already in bed.’’

‘’I don’t care. I don’t let people sleep in my bed.’’ He walked to his bed and yanked the covers from you, catching the small matching pink pajama set you were wearing. It was hugging your figure in a way that made his cock twitch. ‘’Take a pillow and get out. I have shit to do in the morning.’’ 

‘’I’m not sleeping on the fucking couch,’’ you said stubbornly, tipping your head up to look at Rafe. 

The latter groaned, his patience wearing thin at this hour of the night. Without warning, he reached down and firmly grabbed your ankles, roughly pulling you towards the edge of the bed. 

You grabbed at the sheets, trying to resist his grip, but he was stronger. ‘’What are you doing—’’

‘’Getting you out myself.’’ 

‘’I'm not leaving,’’ you repeated, pushing at his hands and kicking your legs and feet. ‘’Let go of me, Rafe.’’ 

In the midst of your erratic movements, one particular hard pull made Rafe lose balance and topple over you on the bed. The scene felt right out of a cliché enemies to lovers rom-com. Your first instinct was to push him off you, but then it came to your realization that you could use this position to your advantage. 

‘’Let's make a deal,’’ you suggested, trying to ignore the heavy body on you. ‘’Earlier, we got interrupted before I could fulfill my second part of the agreement. So, how about I let you fuck me and you let me stay here?’’ 

‘’Absolutely no—’’ 

Before he could finish his sentence or get up, you pushed your hips up, purposely rubbing your bottom halves together. Although there was thin cotton separating both, the contact made Rafe groan — and his cock stiffen. He usually didn't get hard so fast, but the alcohol in his blood was making his hormones increase. 

‘’What was that? I didn’t hear,’’ you asked with a teasing smile, tilting your head to the side. 

A mix of desire and frustration filled the blue eyes looking down at you. He was trying to resist your advances, but Rafe was a guy and he was having a full on cock to brain dilemma. 

You gasp when his mouth crashed on yours. You won.

There was nothing slow or sweet about this kiss. It was rough and passionate and heated, just mouths smashing into each other. Exactly what you expected from Rafe Cameron after getting his patience tested by his best friend's little sister. 

His hand ghosted over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you felt him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you noticed it. Rafe broke the kiss, his blue eyes looking right into yours. No one ever did this to you, but you didn’t hate it. Your lips curled into a devilish grin, waiting for his next move.  

‘’I’m gonna show you how I deal with little bitches like you.’’ 

Rafe’s words had you dripping between your legs. Some girls preferred to be good, but it wasn’t your case. You liked to tease and get punished. 

He nudged your knees apart with his and you melted into his touch, mewling when he pressed against your clothed clit. ‘’Does that turn you on?’’ 

You pushed your hips against him to get more friction, but he removed his knee and stood to get a condom. One thing about Rafe was that he never hooked up with a girl bare. 

‘’This needs to come off,’’ Rafe said when he returned to the bed. He peeled off your pajama shorts and panties in one go. ‘’Be a good girl and spread your legs.’’ 

You spread your legs as wide as they’ll go, giving him the perfect view of how dripping wet your pussy was. Being completely exposed like this should be embarrassing, but if your legs could open wider, you would. You clenched around nothing, feeling Rafe's eyes on you.

‘’Look at that,’’ he said, giving your pussy a tap that echoed in the room. You squirmed at the contact, secretly wanting him to do it again. ‘’Looks better from the vip seat.’’ He then pulled at your pajama top up to free your tits and palmed your breasts as his fingers rolled your nipples, pinching it hard.

You hissed and his face bored the meanest smirk as he ripped the foil packet. He jerked himself a few times before rolling on the condom. 

You were about to be completely ruined. 

Rafe teased your clit with his tip, but plunged his cock into your cunt before you could push back against him for more. It would be a lie if you said it didn't hurt, your tight walls hugging every inch of his cock. 

You had been thinking of this since Topper interrupted you in the afternoon. How his cock would feel inside you. And now it was finally happening.

You grabbed at the bedsheets until the discomfort subsided, pleasure slowly taking over as Rafe began to thrust. You gasped in pleasure, clenching around him.  

He folded your legs for a deeper angle and groaned, looking down and watching his thick cock disappearing in and out of you. ‘’Such a good pussy. Surprised it’s still so tight after getting stretched out so often.’’

The urge to slap him was strong, but every thrusts felt so good that if you opened your mouth, only high pitched cries would come out. He may be an asshole, but the dick was good. 

Getting bored with this position, Rafe pulled out and flipped you over like a ragdoll, your bare ass raised in the air. You didn’t get time to register what was happening; Rafe wasted no time and began pounding you from behind, his big hands gripping your hips. You pressed your face in the mattress to muffle your moans, terrified that Topper would hear on the other side of the hallway. He was likely sleeping like the dead, but you didn’t want to risk it.

It was a matter of minutes before you felt close to your edge, the sounds of wet slapping of skin mixing with Rafe’s low groans echoing in the room. You reached below you to rub your throbbing neglected clit, but Rafe grabbed your hand with a vice grip and pushed you down on the mattress, holding you down as he pounded his last thrusts. 

When he was done, Rafe pulled out and threw the used condom in the trash, then flopped on his bed and pulled the covers over himself, leaving you there. ‘’Good night.’’ 

‘’Are you being serious?’’ 

Rafe looked at you, amused by how mad you looked. ‘’Aw, you haven’t cum yet?’’ 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He knew. He was doing this on purpose. 

‘’Get over here. Sit on my face, I’m tired.’’

—

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[kislnd]

Please do some george dating headcannons babe 😘

dating george clarke~

tysm for the request anon!! i had a lot of fun making this, i hope you enjoy xx

-> his love language is definitely either physical touch or quality time. i feel like he would always want to be with you and would always much rather stay inside cuddled up with you over going out.

-> that probably also comes with a slight possessiveness, because he prefers to have you all to himself it would be hard for him to not feel jealous sometimes (but he would try not to show it because he would know it wasn't your fault).

-> such a gentleman - always opens every door for you, sometimes literally jogging ahead if he has too. would get so offended if you opened your own door without waiting for him.

-> absolutely does not let you do anything when you feel ill, he would insist on completing every task singlehandedly and if you try to do even the tiniest thing he would nag you to stop and would do it himself to save you any discomfort (& so you recover more quickly).

-> similarly, he knows exactly when something is wrong, like he has a sixth sense for you. always very attentive and trying to get to the bottom of the issue so it can be fixed. a very firm believer in 'a problem shared is a problem halved'.

-> i definitely think be would be the type of guy to plan dates for you so no matter how busy you are in your work or personal lives, you always have time set aside for each other.

-> loves to play with your fingers/hands, even absentmindedly. you would find him lacing his fingers into yours frequently, during conversations with others, when you're watching something, he would always want an excuse to touch you - but without inconveniencing you too much.

-> he remembers every little thing about you. sometimes it would even shock you, it could be something you had mentioned once in passing that you don't even remember, but he would know and if he could ever get anything you mentioned, he would give it to you. he might even have a note in his phone containing lists of things you like, maybe even your exact order at your favourite takeaway.

-> his camera roll is full of you - all kinds of pictures too - pictures together, candid ones of you, ones that you would really want him to delete but he doesn't because he loves them anyway.

-> he wouldn't let you be insecure for a single second, he would constantly compliment you and the moment you mention you don't feel pretty or anything like that he would immediately reassure you over and over.

-> he would text you as soon as anything reminds him of you (that's a lot of things) to let you know that he was thinking of you.

-> playful bullying - i feel like this is just in his nature and part of his humour. you could both have digs at each other without hurting each other's feelings, he would absolutely know where the line was and never would never cross it.

-> somehow manages to bring you up in every conversation with his friends to the point they tease him for being a simp. it wouldn't bother him though because he knows they're right and doesn't want to shut up about you.

-> despite teasing him, his friends and family really like you and think you are the perfect fit for george - simultaneously the female version of him but also very different to him.

-> would probably go feral like a teenage boy the second you wear anything slightly revealing, he wouldn't be able to get enough of you (this is a whole other fic i fear).

[ktsumu]

retired apartment neighbour!john price who just misses protecting someone warnings: he's tampering with your stuff, implied home invasion, stalking

belatedly dedicated to @soumies who brainstormed this!!!

-

Your sink isn't working again.

Two months ago, it was a worn washer and something else the repair guy that your landlord sent told you. The last time, the drain wasn't up to fighting anymore.

This time? You don't know what the fuck it is.

Sometimes, you can fix it yourself— save some good money. Sometimes, something's obviously loose, because you remember that you tightened it well the time before. You make it right again and leave it, but then it just drips again. It makes you worry about the day you don't notice the sound and the wood starts to rot.

You've asked down the hallway a bit about whether their kitchens suck too, but they give you funny looks. You don't know why you've got the cursed unit, but it seems that everyone else is doing just fine.

Everyone but John, at least, because he worries about you.

John Price is half-neighbour, half-friend, half-stranger. That's too many halves, but he's big enough to fit them all.

The five months he's lived next to you, he's been nothing but kind. He's caring, funny when you're tired, helpful. You call him Price in passing, John when you need him for something; he answers dutifully to both.

(He's protective, too, frightens boys you bring back for yourself. You guess that nature came with the dog tags.)

He's kind, but you don't know him outside of when you need him, really. Neither of you seem to mind, though, since you're sure he's a busy man and he probably thinks you're too young to waste time on.

Now is one of those times that you need him.

The wrench in your cramping hand clatters against your kitchen floor, sweat beading at your hairline and under the neck of your shirt. It's the hottest night recorded in a decade and here you are; working on your fucked up sink instead of taking a cold shower.

Being too loud isn't a concern— your hallway is full of rabbits and your building manager lives below you; you hope he hears you groaning.

When you hear a knock, knowing who it's from, you start to care a little bit.

"Everything right?"

"I'm fine," you tell him, but it's wheezy. "Sorry for being loud."

Price simply opens your door, enters your home. It's barely ever locked when you're here, you aren't as careful as you used to be. Sometimes, if he's talking to you, he walks right in.

You never really say anything about it. You don't mean it as an invitation, but it comes out as one.

"It's that sink again?"

"How'd you know?"

Price is already in your space— looming over you, squatting to a kneel. One of his hands guides you away from the cabinet and you follow him without question.

He takes the wrench you gave up on. "S'always the sink with you, kid."

You see glimpses of history in Price. Like how he slides himself under your sink even though it's small, almost silent. Like how he grips your rusty wrench like a knife, backhanded, thumb closed over the handle's end.

His skin is covered in sweat, too, dewy under your kitchen light. It beads by his beard.

There's an ugly grind of metal versus metal, something tightening or being forced back into place. Price drops his thick arms again, lifting himself out from under your counter, and he hands you your tool back.

"How did you," you trail, "how did you know—?"

"Knew where to look, love." He laughs quickly when your face is blank. Price is taller than you remember when he stands, leaning on your kitchen island. "I've seen worse than some sink pipes, yeah?"

Of course he has.

It's why you mostly get him to fix things up in your place. Always knows what's wrong with your stupid apartment.

"Yeah, sorry."

Price doesn't leave when he helps you, either.

He waits, eyes trained on you when you get around your kitchen, getting the water jug and your tray of half-frozen ice cubes, asking if he wants some water. You think most people would kindly refuse, but Price always sticks around.

This time, though, he seems like he's gotten his fill, eyes lidded as he waves a hand when you go for the fridge. "M'good, love. Just call me when it goes again."

Your kitchen is uneasy. You know it isn't him, and it's probably you and the stress from the fact you can't sleep in the heat. The AC sounds like it's fighting in your window.

"How do you know it's gonna break again?" you ask. You know it sounds dumb, because you know your whole unit is a bit of garbage, but he's quiet. "Didn't you fix it well?"

John isn't looking at your eyes, he's looking at where your arms are crossed over your chest, hiding the sweat under your arms and collar. He's looking at your bare legs.

"I did," he assures you, always. "It's just a bad sink, lovie."

Just a bad sink, s'all it is.

"Yeah, it is, huh?" you ask, breathing a laugh at the stupidity of it all. At this rate, he'll be coming in to help you until you move out.

He steps toward you again, resting a heavy hand on the small of your back. You don't realize, don't even notice the fact he's nearly guided you out of your apartment until you're at the door.

Are you seeing him out, or is he seeing you?

John feels intimate when he's this close— head tilted, brows slightly raised, thumb tapping on your spine.

"Call me next time, alright?" he tells you, like you'd imagine he'd coo at a rescue. "I'm always around.”

You just nod. Something is pushing you closer and something is pushing him out.

"I will, promise."

"Have a good one then, kid. Take it easy tonight.”

"Thanks, John. I really, really appreciate you helping."

"Just what neighbours do, aye?"

He waits by the door as you close it, watching your smile just as you watch his, warm like a fire. Something makes your hand rest on the lock.

(You know you shouldn't need to, but you kneel in front of your sink when he leaves, knees pressed against the cold floor.)

Something itches in your stomach, not intuition but not ease either, nipping at the back of your brain. You almost feel stupid, using your phone flashlight to feel around the pipe that's never right, looking for something to tell you that you aren't acting crazy for doing this.

There's something you remember seeing earlier, right? Something obvious that you checked to see if it was the issue, or something you replaced last time, or something you paid for.

Your fingers feel nothing where there should be something— a piece is definitely gone, a washer or a nut, maybe old putty you remember cringing at.

It could be lost under the lip of the cabinets, maybe. Maybe that's where it is. It isn't him, surely. He wouldn't do that. There's nothing for him to do that for.

John Price has does done nothing but be kind to you— who are you to blame him for anything?

-

A missing handful of little metal pieces is dropped into a duffel, out of his fisted hand. It clatters against the rest of them.

[fridaysmind]

Vicious angel

Sentinel x Megatronus (Hot NSFW)

This sketch is drawn by my friend @missiva12 , please admire her works. Tags: !size kink, praise kink!

The majestic beings, created in the image of God, towered above him, each one of them. He felt a trifle small in himself, and being directly next to them felt as if he were halved even further. It seemed to the Sentinel that everything could be tweaked without overreaching. That the feeling would go away if he kept himself busy, if he worked with the Primes, if he became part of their inner circle. That's when they'd stop seeming repulsive.

But it wasn't like that…

The closer he got, getting more and more personal proxies, the more he was invited to meetings or free events, the more he was ready to scrub his tanks of disgust. Their voices are unnecessarily annoying. Someone's one of their palms presses against his shoulder and squeezes too hard. Someone smells vilely of expensive liquor, but he smiles and laughs with them.

The Sentinel is taught over and over again, he misdistributed the data, he got in the wrong rack, he is asked for the quality of the weapon, even though it is not even his job! The news feeds are once again dotted with headlines about the unrivaled strategy of these great guys, glossing over his existence when the whole tactic was his idea!

Not enough. It's never enough. And in place of the burning hatred, he was strangled by the desire to praise again. Praise tugged at the strings of his spark, especially his praise, the strongest of the Primes, evoked strange mixed feelings that made him want to reach for it again. And the Sentinel was reaching for it.

His frame ached terribly from work and training, more pleasure in staring at his reflection in the training room than twirling his weapon, but once again Sentinel didn't choose. A supine position would relieve the discomfort, but the difficulty lay in the weight of another mech on his back, pressing his breastplates against the long conference table.

«I don't want to pretend not to notice, my friend.» Megatronus' strong palms slid around the curve of another's waist.

«I know you are young, but I do not consider you foolish or ignorant, all instruction is only for the better, for each of us can see that you are capable of more.»

It was an accident to find himself in such a situation. First there had been the conversation with the overworked Prime in the night, then the careless words of annoyance that had come out of Sentinel's vocolizer, and the dialog that had soon turned into clamping down on the smaller mech's figure. He wanted to refuse, was already ready to say something, but Prime gave such a light and reverent compliment to his work that it made him hesitate a little. Of course, another reason this purple bastard was so beloved by the populace, he knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Then another, then another and here was Sentinel, in a completely empty office except for them, pressed against a flat surface and venting noisily at the gentle touches.

«You don't mind? You've worked hard over and over again, definitely deserve a good rest and knowing you, you're more than able to handle…our slight height difference.» he laughs. Of course, it's easy for him to say. But Sentinel really deserves all the attention he can get, doesn't he? And he's capable of enduring almost anything Prime has prepared for him. No one could handle any of the tasks better than him.

Megatronus' palm presses against the interface panel and, covering the entire area with a single manipulator, presses down, rubbing the already heated metal, causing the counsellor to whimper quietly. The plate pressing against the protoform smears the moisture inside in a thin layer and it causes a slamming wave of shame. Just a couple words of praise from him and Sentinel is in such a shameful state. The thought of opening up and showing his feelings is embarrassing and distasteful. A crumb of sanity has returned to him and, withdrawing his manipulator behind his back, the mech wraps his fingers around the others limb, wanting to get up, to end this misunderstanding, but the masked faceplate presses against the back of his helmet.

«You're doing great, its fine, don't worry, I promise I'll take care of you» Sentinel exhaled deeply at the affectionate voice over the audiosensors, his frame instantly relaxed and his fingers unclenched. Again the slight prick inside spark, a sense of rightness, of comfort.

Dimming the optics slightly, Sentinel feels the panel press with more force and it moves aside on its own. Warm metal slid between the slippery servos, a chuckle of irritation from Prime, and the dentoplates clenched only briefly before wet fingers slid into place and the unaccustomed frame began to wriggle. The left manipulator gently pressed the mech tighter against the table. Scooping sticky moisture onto the fingers of the second manipulator, Megatronus gently pressed one into the port. The finger slides in without much obstruction, but the inside is still hot and so tight just for the finger. The tip of the spike rests painfully against his own plates, the desire to be fully inside burning his gut.

There was a click and the sound of an interface panel being pushed back from behind the counsellor, the heated metal touching the open port, sliding between the servos, gaining moisture and pressing its against the bellyplates. Following his curiosity, Sentinel lifted up, looking down between his servos. His optics widened, no, nope, that won't go in, this fragger is huge. Sentinel felt a chill of worry run down the back of his helmet, the blue frame barely flinched, but Prime ran his free palm over the mech, whispering soothing words again.

«It's okay little one, it'll fit you, I'll make you ready.» Megatronus' entire attention is focused only on Sentinel and the latter likes it. He wants to stay just so it doesn't stop, lying in the barely lit cold blue room, with a nice weight on his back and the sounds of systems working behind him.

In a very short time, the walls of the port were already being stretched by three thick fingers, sliding in and out with a sinful squelch. Sentinel vents noisily in response to each movement, not allowing himself to let out a groan at such a simple caress, his not a budding academy student. The port stings slightly, but it is a pleasant feeling, incomparable to anything else. Mech prefers to believe that Prime is here to bring him pleasure, that this is how it should be, these misunderstandings should thank him for all he puts up with, should worship the efficiency and beauty of their counsellor. Megatronus swiped his manipulator across Sentinel thigh, grabbing servo's and lifting it up. Standing like this would be uncomfortable, but long training and stretching had helped noticeably.

Fingers slipped out of the port, a couple strands of lubricant trailing behind them, the now freed palm placed on the curve of waist, as the tip of the spike pressed against the entrance, wiping away a drop of pre-transfluid. Prime gently rubs circles into the Sentinels frame as it enters inch by inch into the prepared but still tight port. The stretching of the walls causes the blue mech to hiss and reach forward with his hands over the surface.

«Shh, it's okay, you're doing great. Remember the breathing practices? Inhale deeply, exhale and relax, you can take it, baby, you can do it.» his voice is velvety, so polite for his height and size. Annoying. Self-confident, huh? Another cocky…but Sentinel follows the advice, exhales, concentrates on relaxing, feels the thick metal filling him in a way he didn't know before, but seems to unconsciously need all his assets. The bumps and bulging segments hit the sensitive wires perfectly, and along with the discomfort comes the pleasure that makes his lips form a circle and a whimpering moan erupts from the energon receiver.

The Sentinel's port is almost suffocating in its narrowness, soft and pliable, it perfectly accepts whatever is given to it, the tip sliding further and deeper, eventually resting against the reservoir. Megatronus looks down, his spike barely halfway in. Good boy.

The counsellor breathes even deeper, clenching his palms into fists and biting his lip to the point of pain. Good, so good, would it be better when he started to move? The answer didn't take long, wiggling his hips slightly, Prime began to gently withdraw so that he could enter again. The sound of joined hips accompanied the shriek and Sentinel instantly covered himself with his manipulators, blocking the path of his voice. The tempo of the thrusts continued to increase, intoxicated by the stretching, he whimpered and moaned, over and over.

«So beautiful and strong, you are unsurpassed, my dear Sentinel, so heavenly» Prime squeezes the base of his spike as tightly as the rest of it is squeezed by crotch. He slides his hand back and forth in time with his hips over the part of the metal that can't go inside due to the limitations of their little counsellor. The wings in front of him are like a magnet, but his hands are busy and he can only stare longingly at their tantalizing twitches.

He's cute. Spicy and cute. Sentinel's scowl and cheeky bottom-up stare made him even more endearing at times, each of the Thirteen agreed with a chuckle. Lucky to get him first, thanks Primus. Lowering the blue servo he'd raised, Megatronus hugged the mech's pelvis and began sliding circles around the most sensitive part of the protoform, causing the hips to twitch and the walls of the port to contract around him. Owning manipulators at the faceplate doesn't help Sentinel be quieter and it's even cuter. Maybe others will hear, find out who got to their mutual favorite and lose their reloads in envy. Yeah, maybe.

The smaller mech rides the slippery caresses on the table, unable to think of anything but the pleasantly cold surface beneath him and the fire between his lower pair of limbs. Full and hot and so good. The quick, rough thrusts make him rub his cheek against a small puddle of his own saliva. The charge of arousal builds rapidly, like a knot tying at the bottom of his abdominal plates, Sentinel presses closer to the caressing fingers, begging not to stop, not thinking about how it sounds, wanting only to feel the release, long-awaited and desired. Just a couple of presses and he collapses, the reboot seeming to come over him in a wave, his legs shaking uncontrollably and his thighs clenching.

As the mech sprawled on the table with muted optics and fluttering port, Megatronus wrapped his large palms around the Sentinel's slender waist and squeezed around it, accelerating his thrusts to as fast and short as possible, with a sigh of pleasure, releasing jets of transfluid inside. Even after rebooting, he didn't want to come out, this port felt right, as if its frame had been restrained by God specifically for this purpose, hes so perfect.

But it is impossible to be inside this wonderful creature for the rest of eternity, so with a slight movement, the spike unwillingly slipped out of the warm mech with a wet squelch. Stepping back a step or two, Megatronus inspected his work with pride. The still stretched crotch clenched around the hollow, the protoform twitching and their mixed fluids flowing down the inside of thighs, golden wings shimmering in the light of the blue diodes on the wall, beckoning again. How pretty…

Leaving him to cool down and rest a bit, Prime walks over to a small sink, and wets a clean rag from a large pile. After tidying himself up, he closes the panels, picks up a new rag, and walks over to the recovering mech.

«Hi again, am I overdoing it?» Sentinel had no words or thoughts in response, everything in his processor blended into a homogeneous mass. He just mumbled something and jammed his faceplate back into the table. There was a hearty chuckle from Prime's side.

"Oh, I beg to differ," stepping closer, the tall mech flipped the figure onto his back and sat him on the table. "but it's more comfortable this way."

The soft cloth gently stroked Sentinels cheek, wiping first the faceplate, then the mech quite unexpectedly slowly knelt down and pulled apart the still twitching servos, causing Sentinel to come to his senses rather quickly. The sight of giant standing like that made the metal heat up again, but there was no more strength left. Meanwhile, the cloth collected the droplets, lines of streaks, and rubbed the sticky thighs with gentle actions. When the purple arm pulled back, the Sentinel's panel slammed shut.

They sat in silence for a while, one staring at his wrists, the other, still kneeling, gazing with blue optics at the features of the faceplate opposite, until he stood up and reached for mech. Slipping his manipulators under shoulders, Megatronus lifted the nearly weightless body and pressed it against his breastplates, holding his back with a hand. His counsellors faceplate expressed complete surprise, to say the least. He didn't seem to have expected such an action from Prime.

Not only did he not expect it, but he was almost furious. What insolence, to hold him in arms like a child or an invalid, this in the spirit of their fragger company!

"Don't look at me like that, my friend, I've tired you enough already, it's up to me to take care of you and bring you to the platform." Megatronus' voice, deep, quiet and poised, echoes off the walls of the palace's corridors, soothing and as if putting him into a trance. Optics fading again, Sentinel snuggles the side of his helmet closer to Prime's frame, sinking into a recharging embrace. Satisfied and smiling beneath his mask, Megatronus runs the fingertips of his second manipulator over the lovely wings and carries hes little prince to personal quarta.

He didn't clean up the drips and streaks on the floor and table, maybe too tired for that and left the job to the janitors. Or maybe he wanted to leave the traces of his little victory for others to see.

(If you like long posts or prefer short posts, please share with me)

[ranticore]

I gave up on editing and did this instead check it out. I had a rough time with the zeta because they kept getting too anthro dog-ish and I wanted them to read as primates. The one pictured there is a crew member on a whaling vessel (chef and lookout).

Image description and transcript of text below the cut:

[Figure 1 description: Front and side views of a zeta's face with the skull and external anatomy overlaid and separate. The skull is similar to a baboon's with massive broad fangs and a huge saggital crest on top for muscle attachment. Figure 2 description: a bar of colours ranging from dark brown, to reddish, to pale cream, to violet, to blue, to dark blue. Beneath it are several blue markings resembling a stylised 'A' or an arrow. Figure 3 description: a pair of zeta standing together. They are blue, brown, and cream in colour and wearing fancy black collars with dark tassels, and knuckle-guards to protect their feet. They have stocky muscular bodies and ape-like heads. One is propped up on their elbows over the back of the other, looking in a different direction.]

Text reads:

Terrestrial Zeta of Siren: Overview

Zeta are large quadrupedal mammals primarily found in the Eastern continent, the only area of significant continuous land. They are specialists at hunting and killing the local wildlife, most of which have strong chitinous shells and can be thought of as similar to millipedes or isopods. Zeta maxillary canines (1c) are the largest on Siren, laterally flattened and lacking sharp points, instead used to crush and split open the shells of their main prey, and they have huge saggital crests to support their jaw muscles. Zeta were formerly aquatic and still retain tail flukes and dense bones from that evolutionary era (3). They have a plantigrade, knuckle-walking locomotion and lack tongues. Zeta are marsupial and unisex.

Fig. 2 shows the coat colour variation. It is divided into red phase and blue phase shades. While most individuals have both phases, some are solely red or solely blue. Zeta are the only people on Siren who have naturally occurring blue pigments in their skin and hair, and blue eyes. The settlers who genetically engineered zeta also programmed in the logo of their megacorporation, which was a stylised blue letter 'A', which would appear like a tattoo from birth on the skin of zeta, formed of their own pigments. Over subsequent milennia, the logo has become indistinct and abstract, and the blue pigment is no longer limited to this particular marking, but found all over.

Kattakati

During the development of zeta, the genetic engineers wanted to produce a creature which would never have solidarity with a member of its own kind. They tampered with the brains of their creations, thinking that they had produced a creature with no sense of community, empathy, solidarity, or sympathy. In the intervening years zeta have developed a novel way to regain those traits, for their own survival. Early aquatic and terrestrial zeta developed a form of eusociality, viewing members of their pack as themselves, as limbs of one being, and over time this developed into the Dry Bowl practice of Kattakati pairing. This consists of a pair of zeta who have entered a binding agreement to consider one another a single being (3). Legally, socially, and culturally, a kattakati is one person. It has a single name and will not allow others to distinguish between its component bodies in any meaningful way, as they are supposed to be taken as a complete whole, together. It is frowned upon to consider the pair anything other than one guy. The two halves of a kattakati do not necessarily agree on all things, but this is not a contradiction; a person often thinks contradicting thoughts, and feels contradicting things. The nature of the bond is not platonic, romantic, or sexual, and a kattakati might make friends and date other people (you can't date just one half - you need to date the whole guy).

[zivazivc]

Because of a recent ask about the dad's name I am dropping this old drawing that should go along with a oneshot I doubt I'll ever finish because I don't like it anymore, so better I just put this out there.

The dad's name is Keanu and his husband's name is Wave. I don't actually know anything about them but here they are 😅

And you can find a portion of the unfinished fic with this scene under the cut. Warning: Floyd is a mess. A much much bigger one than I actually/currently think his present self is, hence why I don't like this so much anymore (and it was never meant to be canon to my ex bandmates au anyway). It's still pretty funny though.

. . .

Before Bruce could notice the change in Floyd’s mood his eyes caught movement behind him by the entrance to the restaurant. His grin eased down into a more relaxed smile for him to return to business.

“We have another troll family coming in,” he said and turned around to pick up a set of small, freshly-printed and laminated menus from the counter. “Been getting quite a number of those since we hosted the concert.”

Floyd snatched them from his hand, eager to push the replay of his anxiety to the back of his mind, and get back to work. “I’m on it," he said determinedly. "You take care of the big guys.”

He didn’t even know if he could handle carrying another Vaycaytioner-sized family-sized order of food. He hogged the regularly-sized troll customers as much as he could. 

The new guests had settled behind one of the small inflatable plastic tables in the pool area close to the entrance where the sun was shining through. Even with their lower halves submerged in water, Floyd could immediately tell that they were Techno Trolls from the way their hair flowed in the air, like gravity was just an afterthought to them.

Once he got closer, Floyd saw that it was presumably two dads around his age with their two kids. His eyes immediately glued themselves to the older, more physically attractive of the two men, because that’s what he always seemed to find himself doing in these situations. Not that it was his fault the guy was hot and Floyd had been grounded to perfume bottles, armadillo RVs, and underground bunkers for months on end.

When he made it to the pool edge and stood right above their floating table, he finally caught himself gazing. He blinked and reeled his stupid horny thoughts back in before he would do something dumb like bite his lip and give him the bedroom eyes in front of his husband and kids. Not that something like that had been completely beneath him in the past. But he was currently on a shift in his brother’s restaurant, so…

He put on a more acceptable, family-friendly smile.

“Hi, welcome,” he said easily, sounding nothing like how his spasmodic thoughts felt in his head. “How’s everyone doing? You guys hungry?”

He crouched down and leaned over the edge of the pool to hand them the menus.

“Starving, actually,” the attractive techno troll said with a friendly laugh in his voice, and leaned over the inflatable table to grab them. And Floyd’s eyes traveled down that toned arm and exposed stomach. Not only did he ooze the confident, warm charisma of someone who had his life together, he was also fit. Floyd almost fell into the pool in his attempt to accidentally brush fingers with him. The guy was back in his spot in the water before either of those things happened, much to Floyd’s relief and disappointment.

He straightened up and pulled up his notepad and pencil almost like a shield. Fuck, Floyd, get your head straight! “Can I get you anything to drink while you decide what you'll have?”

“Nah, I think we’ll look first,” the guy replied without lifting his eyes as he handed the menus to the rest.

Floyd was about to give up on his first round of trying to get this man’s attention, and sigh in relief that his stupid wants weren’t being entertained, when he registered a different set of eyes staring hard at him. He glanced to the left, to the other guy behind the table.

The intensity of the glare nearly made Floyd recoil.

His first thought was: Shit, I wasn’t even trying to be obvious. Because when he was, the angry stares he would receive from jealous boyfriends or girlfriends were usually heated and flustered, not intensely sharp and cold. The steadiness with which he was being pinned didn’t even feel like a newly developed loathing.

Shit was also Floyd’s second thought. He’s looking at me like we know each other… I haven’t already fucked his man before, have I? Floyd wasn’t so good with faces or names …or memory in general when it came to certain episodes in his life. But surely the hot husband would have remembered him at least…

Then his mind wandered to the other possibility. Did we fuck??

Whenever he tried to iron out his life, his stupid past actions always seemed to come back to bite him in the ass. He really hoped this wasn’t one of those cases.

He stared at the troll’s face, trying to place him somewhere. Techno Troll (that didn’t narrow it down that much), hair in two different gradients of blue, dark purple skin, a younger-looking face even for a Techno Troll, bright green eyes, and green freckles…

Sweat broke down Floyd’s back, and it had nothing to do with his recovering physical condition.

He swallowed uncomfortably and instinctively pulled his pencil and paper slightly closer to his chest. His eyes finally looked over to the other side of the inflatable table. He had only briefly glanced at the kids before, enough to know they were kids and uninteresting. But looking at them now… Floyd immediately deviated a couple of shades from his natural hue.

Neither had any of the hunky dad’s warm colors; in fact, the kids weren’t even fully Techno. They were mixed like his friend Liv. The scarce strands of thin, luminescent Techno cords were nearly swallowed up by dense, fluffy, regular hair. The girl—they were a boy and a girl—was lounging on a pool float with her feet in the air, and Floyd could see that instead of flippers, she had legs with the unusually webbed feet, kind of something like an amphibian. The other kid—the boy—had skin that didn't have the dim effect or rubbery texture to it that Techno Trolls normally had, and it was an uncomfortably familiar shade of turquoise. Both of them sported hot pink bangs over their eyes.

“Ah,” Floyd uttered out loud like some kind of dumbass.

The three heads who had been engrossed in the restaurant menu all looked up, surprised to see him still standing there. Floyd evaded their gazes only to lock eyes with the purple troll again.

He… He was the kid from the week-long, non-stop techno rave, back when Floyd had been deep in his sour worm addiction and going through a long manic episode to top it off… At one point during the party someone brought out pure citric acid and Floyd blanked out for three days straight after that, only to wake up in an unfamiliar bed with a double surprise…

It was like a switch, but now Floyd could clearly remember the young adult version of this troll floating around his dorm room with the egg from Floyd’s head in his hands, panicking about how his parents were going to kill him, all while Floyd silently lay in bed contemplating if he should mention the other egg stuck in the kid's hair or if he should just say he’s going to the bathroom and then never return.

“Uhm.” He swallowed uncomfortably, wanting to be anywhere but here. Maybe not the crystal bottle, but anywhere else. “…I think I should get you a different waiter…”

The purple troll’s glare did not waver in the slightest. “I think so too.”

Floyd took that as permission to bail on him a second time. He turned around on his heel and practically ran from the pool edge.

“Keanu, you good?” he heard the husband ask, sounding obviously confused about what just transpired.

Well, at least Floyd knew what to call that troll in his head now instead of just "kid"…

. . .

[tkwrites]

Can I Watch? - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Gif from gabelandeskog

Title: Can I Watch?

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Warnings: Smut (18+ only), Mutual masturbation, Vibrator use, Sex with competition, Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Sex with a vibrator, talks of fantasies including thigh riding, edging and anal play, but nothing is done. 

Summary: The day after I miss you: When Quinn discovers a vibrator in Sarah’s toiletry bag, it sets them on a course of discovery and pleasure neither of them planned on. After a wild afternoon, they discuss their fantasies.

Word Count: 4,000

Comments: I’ve been working on the Family Reunion snapshot, but it’s just not in a place to be done yet. It’s getting there, but it still needs a lot of work. The ending for this one came to me a few days ago, so I’ve finished it up. A thousand thanks to @aloragrace for looking this over so many times and helping me bring it back to Sarah and Quinn when my ovulation cycle highjacked the keyboard. I’m so glad I stuck to my instinct and kept writing until it was right. 

Thank you a thousand times over for your support and love for Sarah and Quinn! 

If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. Your comments and support inspire me to keep writing! 

The video referenced at the beginning of this snapshot is described in Messages. 

Can I Watch? 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

“Could you grab me a hair tie while you’re in there?” Sarah asked from her perch on the bed. 

“Here,” he handed her the elastic as he left the bathroom. 

"What's this?" Quinn asked, holding up a dark rectangular thing he'd pulled out of her toiletry bag while rooting around for the hair tie. 

Sarah glanced up and tried to sound casual. "It's a vibrator."

"It is?"

"Take the cap off," she said. 

"How?" 

"Pull the halves apart." 

He did and discovered a clinical looking device with a built up sort of funnel on one side. 

"What does it do?" he asked, sitting next to her. 

"It creates a sucking sensation," she said, feeling her blush finally break through. 

"And you thought you might need it this trip?"

Quinn liked to think of himself as a pretty open guy, but she'd never brought a toy into the bedroom before. They generally did just fine. He knew she had them from phone calls and video chats and that damn video she’d sent him in Carolina. He wasn’t sure why she felt like she needed it now. 

"Well, It's a travel one, which is why it's so small and inconspicuous, so it lives in my toiletry bag anyway but, I thought you…" she paused, trying to screw her courage up. "I thought you might want to use it on me." 

Quinn's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "What?"

"Lots of couples use toys."

"I know, but," Quinn was having a hard time converting his thoughts into spoken words. "Hell yeah, I want to use it on you," he blurted finally, his eyes shining with excitement. "How do you turn it on?"

"Hold down the plus sign."

He did, and the toy jumped to life. When past girlfriends had brought out vibrators, they always caused intense buzzing; this felt more like a gentle flutter. It didn't feel anything like suction. 

Reaching over, Sarah picked it up and licked her finger to spread some moisture on the tip. 

Quinn watched, enthralled as she pulled his hand into her lap and pressed the opening to the pad of his thumb. He immediately felt the toy engage, creating the sensation she’d promised. 

"And you can make it stronger here," she pressed the plus button a few more times, and the suction intensified. 

“And you use it?“

“On my clit. Sometimes I use it on my nipples. But with you here I'd rather have your mouth there.”

It even felt good to him. He had no idea how a dude would use it, but the thought had him excited. 

"Is this what you used when you sent me that video?"

"No. I used a bullet vibrator that time. That one lives in my bag most of the time. It's more inconspicuous." 

"You have more than one?"

"Six or seven that do different things," she said. 

Quinn felt his mouth begin to water. He hadn't expected this in the best way. 

He met her eyes, his own shining. “Do you have the one you used in that video?” 

She nodded and went to fetch it from her backpack. 

“This is a vibrator?” he asked. Other than the bright blue color, it looked like a thick tube of chapstick. 

When she popped the lid off, it revealed a silicone covered cylinder. 

Turning it over in his hand, he found and pressed the button. The toy jumped to life, buzzing more like the vibrators June had. 

This one was far more rudimentary, with only the one button that changed the vibration pattern. 

“What did you use it on?” he asked as he cycled through the settings, the vibrations shuddering through his fingers.

She laughed as she settled next to him again, “are you trying to recreate it?” 

“I listen to that video at least once a week when we're not together,” he confessed. “There's no way I'm turning down a chance to see it. In fact…” he said, a mischievous smile taking over his face, “can I watch you get yourself off with it?” 

Her face flushed. “I don't know…” 

“Please?” he asked, unable to hide the lust in his eyes. The very thought of it had him breaking into a hot sweat and longing pulled through his stomach. 

“I've never done that before.” 

“Done what?” 

“Masturbated in front of someone.” 

“That's not true,” he said, “you do it in front of me all the time.”

“No I haven't.”

“Over FaceTime.”

“That's different. That's mostly about sound, and you're only seeing my face.”

“Please, Sarah,” he said, letting his voice dip into desperation. Now that the possibility was in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to rest until it came to fruition. 

She could feel her resistance caving even as they sat there, “okay, but you have to, too.”

“Have to what?”

“You have to get yourself off.”

Like that would be hard. 

A sudden thought came to mind, and Sarah smiled a wicked grin of her own. 

“What?” he asked, laughing. 

“Wanna make a bet?” she asked, quirking her eyebrows suggestively. 

“About what?” 

“Whoever comes first forfeits decision rights for the rest of the night. Dinner and such.” 

It was stupid and simple, but she knew Quinn and his incessant need to win wouldn’t be able to resist the healthy competition. 

As proof of her point, he leaned closer. “Deal,” he said, ghosting the buzzing vibrator up her forearm. 

Goosebumps rippled over her skin. 

When she met his eyes, a smile like she’d already won lit her face, and Quinn found himself wondering if he was setting himself up for failure.

“You can’t stop touching, though.” 

“What?”

“It’s only fair if we’re both touching. So you have to keep this pretty hand,” she said, bringing it to her mouth and kissing his palm, “on you cock the whole time.”

His breath stuttered in his chest.

Oh, he was fucked. 

Laying back, Sarah watched Quinn's face for grounding. The fascinated, lustful look in his eyes made her blood feel like it was about to boil over. 

She brought the vibrator to the top of her sex, nesting it against her clit before turning it on. The toy buzzed to life and her hips tipped toward it.  

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, eyes flicking between her face and the toy in her hands. 

Her breath shook as she answered, “I like to start on the clitoral hood. It’s a nice way to ease in and get everything warmed up without being too intense.”

She was holding the toy still, but her hips rocked, moving the tip ever so slightly. 

“Do you ever turn it higher?”

“Not until I’m a few rounds in. When I come the first few times, it's too intense if I do, and I have to cycle through all the modes to get back to a comfortable setting. By then, my orgasm is gone, so I just leave it on low and vary the pressure.”

He made a needy, longing noise as he thought about her getting herself off over and over again. 

“You're supposed to be getting yourself off,” she reminded, noticing him not touching.

Selfishly, he’d been waiting until she noticed, knowing he wouldn’t last long with her in front of him, spread open and bringing herself pleasure with the object that plagued so many of his dreams. 

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand around his cock and started to stroke, fighting to keep his pace torturously slow. 

“Quinn,” she moaned. 

Though he felt too close to the surface already, he wouldn’t look away. He couldn’t. She was doing this for him. He’d practically begged for it, and he wasn’t about to throw the opportunity out the window over a bet. But he still wanted to win.

“Fuck, Sarah,” he found himself saying, “I wish I was touching you right now.” 

She almost told him he could be, but he might take that as an invitation, which would for sure bring her to a crest more quickly. Instead, she goaded him on. “How?” 

Two could play at this game. “I want my mouth on you so bad.” 

The moan she let out went straight to his groin, and he paused until he got some semblance of control back. “I’ve missed the way you taste.” 

Her hips undulated as his name rushed from her mouth. “Oh my god.” 

Blinking her way through the fantasy, Sarah’s eyes sought Quinn. Draped over the end of the bed, he had one hand propped under his head so he could watch her, while the other... Her eyes narrowed. 

“Your hand’s not on your cock.”

“I’ll come if I keep touching,” he confessed.

“I guess you better learn to restrain yourself, then.”

When he didn't move, she pulled the vibrator away, even though her body begged her not to.  “Hand on your cock or I'm not coming.”

His lips pouted down. “But —” 

“That was the agreement, Quinn,” she said.

When he didn't immediately comply, she turned off the toy. 

He whined. 

“It wouldn’t be winning on your part anyway,” she said. “You’re cheating.”

“I am not.” 

“You are. You can’t possibly win fairly if you’re not touching.”

“But it takes you longer to build up,” he said, hating the whine in his voice. 

“You knew that going in,” she goaded, “it’s not my fault you didn’t think it through.” 

He made a pained noise. 

“Hand. Cock. Now,” she demanded. When he still hesitated, she asked, “are you really going to deny me my orgasm because you can’t control yourself?” 

Well, when she put it that way. 

“No,” he admitted, a distinctive whine of defeat in his voice. 

“I won’t do anything too mean, I promise,” she said with a wink as the toy buzzed back to life. 

That’s what he was afraid of. 

He was going to lose. There was no way he’d be able to outlast her. May as well go out with a bang. Stroking his cock faster, he admitted, “I can’t wait to use that on you while you ride me.” 

She made a pleasured, desperate noise. 

“I’m gonna make you come so many fucking times.” 

Feeling that tingling start in her pelvis, Sarah eased the toy back. She needed to send him over the edge. “Yes, you make me feel so good, Quinn.” 

His breath choked in his throat. Even the suggestion of her calling him good had him unraveling. He slipped over the edge with a moan of her name.

Relieved to not hold back any longer, Sarah let the vibrator fall against her and rocked her hips. “Quinn,” she whined, “I’m so close.” 

Even though his limbs felt like they were made of jelly, he pulled himself to her side, wrapped his lips around her right nipple and sucked, flicking the pebble with his tongue. 

She cried out, pleasure surging through her. “Quinn! Oh my - fuck!” Her core pulsed, and she couldn’t wait to have him deep inside her. 

Easing the toy away, her whole body flinched against the sensitivity.

“That was so hot,” Quinn rasped, hauling himself up to catch her mouth in a smoldering kiss. 

It didn’t take long before her hips were tipping to his, needy once more. 

“Are you ready to ride my cock?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face. “Or should I shove this,” he held up the little buzzing toy, “inside you and lick you until you come?” 

Hips bucking up, she begged, “both. I want both.” 

They fucked and made love, and Sarah ordered him around like he’d always dreamed of. At one point, he had the suction vibrator pulling at her clit as he drilled into her from behind, and Sarah was feeling so much bliss, she could barely hold herself up. She collapsed onto her chest, loving the friction of the bedsheets as her body was pushed and pulled and pushed and pulled with each steady thrust. 

“Quinn, I’m gonna come,” she warned, wondering if in her loosened and blissed state, she might finally squirt. 

She cried out when the pleasure surged, racing through her veins. 

He pulled out and tugged on his length, slippery with her orgasm.

She was just starting to whimper and twitch from the overstimulation when she felt his release paint over her backside. 

Tumbling like a felled tree, he landed beside her, and the toy fell away. 

Her knees slid out so she lay on her stomach. 

A few minutes later, when she hadn’t moved or spoken, Quinn touched her elbow, “that was kind of intense. You okay?”

Turning her face to him, she rested her head on her arms. “Yeah.”

“Yeah it was intense, or yeah you're okay?”

“Both,” she said with a smile. After a small pause, feeling so buoyant in her chest, she thought she might just float away, she added, “thank you for checking in.”

Scooting a little closer, he pressed his lips to the place his fingers had just touched. 

She smiled but still didn't make any moves to change position. Usually, she liked to use the bathroom or cuddle right after sex. Looking her over, he realized she couldn't. He'd come all over her ass. Of course she couldn't move.  

He convinced himself up to fetch a wet cloth from the bathroom. There was one made of soft microfiber, labeled for makeup removal with the other towels. At least he wouldn't have to use a rough, overly bleached hotel washcloth. He soaked it with warm water before coming back. 

Touching a hand to her thigh to let her know he was there, he wiped his release off her bum and hips before tapping her knee.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as she spread her legs to give him more room. A small wincing noise escaped her lips when he swiped between them. 

“Sorry,” he said. “Almost done.”

As he went back to the bathroom, his hand gently caressed over her bum and down her thigh, tracing the whole length of her leg. He rinsed the cloth before hanging it up to dry. 

Coming back out, he found her standing, a grimace squinting her left eye closed. 

He jolted to her side, “are you okay?” 

“Yeah. We went from no sex for twenty days to, like, five times in an afternoon. I’m just a little sore,” she said with a small laugh. 

“Twenty days, hu?” 

“Don’t play coy. I know for a fact that you keep track.” 

Laughter burst out of him. 

She shut the door to the bathroom, and he pulled on a new pair of boxers.

Sarah smiled, accepting the pajamas Quinn pulled out of her suitcase for her when she came back. 

He unabashedly watched her dress as he lay on the bed and held his arms out for her. She immediately snuggled in, resting her head on his chest. 

Kissing the crown of her hair, Quinn said, “thank you for doing that for me.” 

“Doing what?” 

“The whole masturbation thing.” 

A laugh snorted from her nose, “it’s not like it was some huge burden on my part.” 

Tightening his arms around her, Quinn finally asked, “is there anything you want from me?” 

“What do you mean?” she asked, fingers tracing up the center of his stomach. 

He had to swallow against the trembling in his chest, “I mean, is there anything you want sexually? Anything you want to try?” 

She made a small humming noise that told him she was thinking. While he waited for her response, his fingers traced patterns on her shoulder.

“I want to ride your thigh,” she admitted. 

“Is that…is that a thing people do?”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to try it, and you have these incredible thighs here,” she said, running her hand up the broad trunk of muscle, “always tempting me.”

“I don’t get it,” he said, unable to stop himself. 

“Get what?”

“The whole thigh thing. What’s the big deal?” 

“Well, I mean, your thighs are big and strong, and watching you work out?” she paused to bite her lip and let out a satisfied little grunt, “I just think they’re so sexy.” 

Her touch became feather-light, and a shiver of pleasure shot all the way to his toes. 

“I mean, you like my thighs, right?” 

It was true. He did love her thighs. They were soft and curvy and led to one of his favorite parts of her. His thighs, though, were too muscled for the rest of his body — made bigger from all the skating and leg work he had to do for hockey. He’d never imagined a woman would like them because of that. 

“You don’t think it would be hot to watch me get myself off on one?” she whispered, her fingers suddenly gripping his left quad. 

The muscle seized under her assault, and his breathing hitched.

He nodded, knowing if he spoke, his voice would squeak. God, he should not be getting so worked up over the thought of this.

“Maybe we can try that when you get back home.” Her lips whispered over his neck when she said it. 

“We could try it when you come to Michigan,” he countered, not sure he could wait that long. Had they not gone so many rounds already, he would be demanding she do it right then. It was going to plague his thoughts for the rest of the summer. 

Her grip loosened, and she smiled when she felt his muscles twitch as her fingers grazed up to his stomach. 

“Is there anything you want?” she asked, splaying her hand over his heart as if she hadn’t just turned him on in two seconds flat. 

The vast majority of his blood and mental focus were too much in his dick to properly vet his thoughts, so the fantasy just came blurting out, “I’ve been getting myself off to the thought of you edging me.” 

“Edging?” she repeated. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice gone breathy. 

“What does that look like?” Though she’d heard of it before, edging wasn’t something Sarah was too interested in trying herself, and her past boyfriends had all been too vanilla. They’d all considered doggy to be kinky.

“You tying me up.” He’d never admitted this fantasy to anyone before. He loved that no matter what came out of his mouth, Sarah would at least consider it. 

“Okay, and?” 

“And not letting me come until you say I can.” 

“Okay,” she repeated, still a little unsure. 

“You can come as much as you want, though,” he said, practically panting at the thought, “in fact, the more you come, the better.” 

Now, she understood a little more, “so you just have to watch me come?” she confirmed. 

“Yeah, and you like, touch me and stuff, but don’t let me get all the way there.” 

“I think I could do that,” she said, “I don’t know that I’ll be all that good at it, but I’d be happy to try.” 

A coil of anxiety unwound in his chest. 

“You’ll have to tell me what you want.” 

He nodded, “I can do that.” 

Her fingers began to trace patterns over his chest. The last part of the fantasy was still rolling around his mind. He knew Sarah, who loved and insisted on consent more than any other woman he’d ever been with, would have the most issue with this part of it. 

“I want you to order me around,” he said. 

“As part of the edging?”

“Yeah, and tell me I’m a good boy when I do it right.” 

Making a kind of noncommittal noise, she pursed her lips. 

Raising himself onto one elbow, he looked down at her. 

She blew a deep breath through her lips, “I’m not gonna lie, that feels really weird to me.” 

“What does?” 

“The whole good boy thing.”

“If you’re not comfortable with it, it’s okay,” he said. 

“I just…I don’t understand. Why would you want me to reduce you to that?” 

“To what?” 

“To just, ‘good boy,’” she explained, “you’re not a dog.”

Smiling, he leaned down to kiss her. He loved this part of Sarah — respectful and kind, she never wanted to make another person feel less than. 

“What if I just tell you you’re doing a good job?” she asked. “Take the boy out of it. Would that be okay?”

His body responded immediately, “that would work.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I liked it when you said I made you feel good earlier today.” 

“I did?” 

He nodded, “I just want to be good for you.” 

“You are good to me, Quinn,” Sarah said, pulling him back down for another kiss. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sarah wondered if Quinn wanted these things because he was so used to chasing the praise of his coaches and teammates. 

He made a happy little noise and settled next to her again. 

After a minute of laying there, he asked, “is there anything else you want?” 

“Oh, I…” Sarah had never felt like this in a relationship. She’d never had someone ask her so openly about what she wanted, but on top of that, she knew whatever she said, Quinn would consider without immediately shooting her down. But it was still vulnerable to say it out loud. 

“I’ve kind of always wanted to try…”  

His arm tightened around her, reassuring. 

“I want to try doggy with something in my ass,” she said, then bit her lip. 

Quinn’s chest rose in a steep breath, but his voice was calm when he said, “what kind of something? Like a plug or…” 

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t done much research, I’ve just read about it a few times, and it seems like it can be really amazing.”

He made a noise of ascent.

Lifting herself up on her elbow, she asked, “have you done that before?” 

Hesitantly, he nodded. 

“Did you, I mean, was it okay?” 

“June really liked it.”

Sarah blinked a few times, surprised. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“She didn’t like oral or cum, but she liked anal play?” Sarah felt a little whiplashed. She’d always assumed June was a prude. 

He shrugged. He honestly didn’t know if June disliked receiving oral. He’d never offered or tried, and she never asked. 

Settling back against his chest, Sarah’s mind caught on the way he’d answered her initial question. “So did you like it?” 

“Like what? The anal stuff?” 

“Yeah. It seems like maybe you didn’t?” 

A sigh shifted his chest beneath her. “It’s not really that. It was more June. She always wanted to try new, more extreme things, and it felt a bit like she was always chasing this high I could never give her on my own.” 

The thought of it made Sarah’s chest tight. “Quinn that sounds awful.” She pushed herself up to kneeling so she could look into his face. “We don’t have to do it. Like I said, I’ve just thought about it. It’s nothing I have my heart set on.” 

Quinn smiled a little to himself. How was this beautiful woman even possible? “I know you’re not like that,” he said

“No,” she agreed.

“If it’s something you want, we should try it.”

The love and care that was laid bare in that statement made her heart feel like it might just explode from happiness. 

She lay on top of him, “only if we can make love before,” she said. “There’s hardly anything I like more than making love to you.” 

As his mouth tipped to hers in a kiss, Quinn felt full to bursting with love. He knew Sarah loved him and wasn’t just seeking the next high, the next thing that would make their relationship bearable, but when she learned his hesitations, she put them to bed anyway. 

She’d been open to his stuff so he would be open to hers. 

“Want me to order a plug? I could probably InstaCart it.” 

Laughter echoed around the room. “Quinn Hughes, you are not InstaCarting a butt plug to our hotel.” 

“Why not?” he asked. “We’re here. You want it. You should have it.” 

She was touched at his willingness to fulfill this want right away, especially considering his initial hesitation. “I want to do some research before,” she said. Though she’d thought about it plenty, she’d never really looked into the logistics of it.

“Okay,” he said, kissing her forehead, “just let me know when you’re ready and what you want me to get.”

“Right now, I just want you to make love to me before we figure out what we want for dinner.” 

“Done,” Quinn said, rolling them over, “but you get to figure out dinner. You won the bet.” 

She giggled. “You are the only person I know who can turn losing a bet into a good thing.”

“Its all about perspective, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a few kisses to her neck. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[i-may-be-an-emu]

TELL ME ABOUT THE MEN!!!!!!

HELLO!!!

GLADLY :DD

THE MEN. :)

They’re called shoot from the hip (sfth) and are @shootimpro on youtube, tiktok, instagram, facebook, x/twitter, Bluesky, as well as on linktree, patreon and ko-fi.

(Hi just a note that I’ve updated this post a bit :))

They’re London based but have done shows outside london like in Scotland (Edinburgh Fringe) and even to Spain. They want to hopefully go to other countries in the future too!!

From left to right they’re Sam, Tom, AJ and Luke :)))

Ok, so. They do improvised comedy and their shows have two halves (generally with a break in the middle) they play lots of short drama games in the first half and then improvise 20-30 minute (on average) plays in the second half, sometimes with another game at the end.

The plays are so much fun (they’ve got 43 of them up on youtube so far!! (< updated January 2025)) and they’ve also released three full specials (full shows) which you can find on their channel :)

For a few of the older ones (apart from the first one) they were filming on an iphone and just projecting their voices, so the the audio and image quality can be hard to deal with (but all their videos are subtitled by the AMAZING volunteer subtitlers!!!) the older videos are well worth watching, though!!!

They have SO MUCH CONTENT because during covid they did zoom-style improv shows with eachother and you can watch those as a patreon. (To find out what else you get with patreon go to my pinned post :))

They also have SO MANY VIDEOS that are just the regular public ones!!!! They upload short ones of the games and some 5-10min ones of the games too, as well as the long forms (plays)

Now some info about the guys :D

Samuel Thomas Russell-Holmes:

Birthday 21st July 1989 (35)

Married this year and expecting a baby!!! :)

wears a red flannel a LOT (less recently, but still a LOT, it’s his Thing)

he says some very risky things sometimes but also has the audacity to look shocked when the others do it lol

Fav colour is green

he’s 5”10

brown eyes

currently producing a radio show for the bbc called wing it (available in December!)

if he were a Disney Princess he said he’d be Rapunzel

VERY GOOD AT ANIMAL (specifically goat/sheep) NOISES

initiates kisses with the others a lot (all of them do but I’ve counted and he kisses Luke the most and initiates kisses with all of them the most overall) (in the videos they’ve posted at least))

great at talking in Spanish gibberish, often paired with opening his shirt buttons

loves fantasy things

interested in Greco Roman mythology

wrote an audiobook called “Evergreen”

his mother and grandfather are/were successful actors

Has a drama degree

Low spice tolerance

has eaten raw egg live on camera

likes to cook

Thomas Mayo-Woodman/Hodgson-Mayo:

HES SO TALL (this man is almost 2m tall- he’s 6”5.5 :0)

brown eyes

his birthday is 10th July 1989 (35)

Married to a drag king (@pipdream on insta, tiktok, youtube, ect.) whose pronouns are they/them (they’re an icon and we love them)

Wrote a graphic novel (it’s called Future it’s about space lesbians)

literally one of the sweetest and kindest souls on this planet I’ve never met him but every time he says anything it’s like WOW OK YOURE SO NICE AND KIND AND WONDERFUL (everything I’ve heard from people who’ve met him is SO NICE)

SO GOOD AT IMPROVISING (specifically Shakespearian-style) MONOLOGUES

his favourite colour is red

has two english degrees (very good with grammar and words)

has adhd

makes a garbled choking noise very well (you have to hear it to get what I mean I guess lol)

has eaten a teabag live on camera

He’s referred to as the “dad” of the group a bit

Very hard to make him laugh on stage (but he’s been laughing more, recently!!) and each one is treasured

He’s so kind did I mention he is so kind

lovingly called a squid or squidboi by the fandom because of one time (a few times actually) he like stuck his hands in his sleeves and was like “I’m a squid”

does a lot of admin work for sfth and handles the finances (at least he did, they might have someone for that now I’m not sure) and takes care of the patreon

Makes a lot of spreadsheets

DID I MENTION HOW NICE AND KIND HE IS

Alexander Thomas Jeremy (AJ):

Birthday on 4th November 1991 (32)

CONFUSION KING /aff (he gets confused easily but we love him for it)

He’s bald and gets made fun of for it RELENTLESSLY (again, lovingly)

Absolutely ANGELIC singing voice

Blue eyes

born in Manchester(UK) but grew up in France (fluent in French)

makes movies/short films on youtube!! He’s working on a new one now and you can find them @lofi_film25 on youtube (that’s also his film insta)

does a lot of the editing for sfth and has a lot of input into which longforms to upload apparently

he’s such a himbo (/aff)

fav colour is blue

He’s 6 foot tall

On their covid livestreams would always forget to get costuming ready “I don’t do costumes” (king <3)

his rapping is BEAUTIFUL (words that barely rhyme at all and make NO sense 😌)

He delivers GREAT one liners

so good at playing children it’s crazy

can do magnificent cartwheels and loves to jump on the others with no warning

lots of muscles but lost an arm wrestle against Tom

Thinks he can’t do an Irish accent but I think it’s pretty good

also has a drama degree

He creates such amazing characters in the longforms

this is more just my opinion but I love his laugh

VOLDEMORT IMPRESSION IS SPOT ON

Luke Christopher Manning

Birthday is the 23rd October 1989 (currently 34 about to be 35)

Hazel eyes

hes not short but he’s the short-EST, 5”7.5

gets made fun of for his height a LOT (lovingly!!)

SO good at accents

so good at playing women

also so good at playing children

such a good actor overall (the only one of them currently perusing acting I believe)

says THE MOST UNHINGED THINGS

people think he’s innocent (somehow) but he’s SO unhinged

took his pants off live on stage (wearing underwear but still lol 😭 he’s a menace)

lives in Spain with his long term girlfriend (can speak very competently in Spanish)

so much attitude in such a small guy (/aff)

sometimes compared to Macaulay Caulkin looks-wise

plays bass guitar in a band

Teaches acting (to kids??) in Spain

also has adhd

also has a drama degree

His favourite film is back to the future I’m pretty sure?

So confident in himself I aspire to be like that

people say he “doesn’t age” and looks really young but I personally think he does look his age

sometimes called “Luke Womanning” as a play on his last name because of how amazing all his female characters are

They’re all really close friends and met at uni and started doing improv around 13 years ago together! Started gaining popularity in 2022 on tiktok and are gaining more and more fans every day!

Um. Whoops I wrote a lot lol. (It totally hasn’t been an hour of me just writing this hahahaha)

anyway I love them so much :)))) (as you can probably tell)

anyway!

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON THIS ASK MEANS SO MUCH TO ME :DDDDD

[rollinouttahere-writes]

could I get A E I J N for Ace please

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Ace is a BIG quality time kind of a guy. He wants to do things with his darling. Like going for a ride on Striker, exploring a new island together, or even just hanging out in his cabin. He lives to spend time with you, and he'll drag you along to whatever he wants to do in the name of bonding time.

He's also a touchy guy. When out and about, he's either holding your hand or has an arm slung over your shoulder. In private, he's much more cuddly. You won't be able to get further than arm's reach from him. Every inch of him is pressed against every inch of you. Ace is strong as hell and just as delusional, so he'll make excuses for any lack of enthusiasm from you while easily keeping you in place.

It's all very intense, Ace doesn't do anything in halves. You are his everything, and he's going to make sure that he becomes your everything, too.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

At first, Ace is very much keeping up a front around you. He wants and needs for you to think that he's this perfectly happy and normal guy. He has a sort of fake-it-til-you-make-it kind of mentality, but he never quite makes it. Eventually, cracks start to show, and then they shatter. His darling will feel like they have whiplash after witnessing their happy-go-lucky captor switch to the miserable, self-loathing persona.

Once the dam breaks, you become an unwilling pillar of emotion support. You're exposed to every facet of his extremely tumultuous character. It feels like you're being guilt-tripped to the extreme by him, but it's genuinely unintentional on his part. He can't help it. He needs to let you in, body and soul, even if he's dragging you in against your will.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Ace doesn't have a plan. He's going through the motions in life, and that also applies to you. He wants you to be there, sure, but he doesn't really have an end goal. He just wants to be with you forever. Marriage doesn't really cross his mind. Not because he's against that, he just feels like you guys pretty much are married already. What's a couple of rings and a sheet of paper really going to add to that? That being said, he would happily go along with it if you were fully in the throes of stockholm syndrome and brought it up, but that's really only because he's through the roof excited that you've finally accepted him.

Don't worry about him pushing to have children. While he does like children and is honestly great with them, he is terrified of actually having any. He doesn't want to pass along his problems to them and perpetuate a cycle of misery. That being said, he wouldn't be as opposed to the idea of taking in some random orphan that's in need.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Oh boy. Ace has intense jealousy issues. His deep rooted insecurity comes out full throttle, and it gets scary fast. Fortunately, it only applies to potential romantic rivals, so friends and family are safe at the very least. If he does snap, you don't have to worry about him hurting you, but that can't be said for whoever had the nerve to approach you. He doesn't give them a chance to back off. Once they've gone far enough to actually make Ace jealous, they are already past the point of no return. He'll beat them within an inch of their life, and possibly burn them to death if he was angry enough.

After this is over, and you are thoroughly traumatized from watching that, Ace pulls a 180 and starts babying you. In his delusional state, he believes that you are upset because that disgusting waste of life was bothering you. You'll learn quickly to avoid people when you're out and about with Ace.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He can't do it. He already struggles with guilt from just keeping you with him. He could never actually harm you. The worst that can happen is that he might yell at you if you've been fighting back a lot and had frequent escape attempts. He'll be up in your face, and his yelling is genuinely terrifying after only ever dealing with his softer side. As soon as it's over, Ace feels like a monster and starts love bombing the hell out of you to try and make up for it.

[mylittleredgirl]

thinking about sinclair again this fine day:

delenn continuing to say "in valen's name" with just as much reverence for the rest of the series, even though he's conclusively some guy named jeff that she personally knows

BUT HE ACTUALLY DID ALL THAT STUFF. SO IS SHE WRONG???

"you talk like a minbari commander" surprise! you all talk like HIM!!

remember marcus's little bit about "the only way to get a straight answer out of ranger one is to hang upside down in a mirror” or whatever? what if "minbari never tell anyone the whole truth" is just because sinclair likes to fuck with people and they made it a cultural tentpole of their society

i'm actually really quite invested now in the alternate universe sinclair & delenn relationship, because imagine her discovering AFTER the fact that her husband is Literally Valen. and she's her own distant ancestor somehow as well

delenn might actually roll with that but lennier's face in the background like O_O

i had a coworker who, anytime some new crazy shit happened, used to take a deep breath and say "this, too." not like 'this too shall pass' or anything, just acknowledging that This Too is a thing we're dealing with today, on top of all the other things. that's lennier ten times a season.

sheridan and delenn are theeee het couple of all time, i think we can all agree on this, i would NOT want to trade them for anything

but i keep thinking about how because sheridan missed season one, he never knew her as a minbari

it just seems so sad for her!!! and for me because i’d like to see him navigate that

i'm having a hard time this go-round watching her get isolated from her people :( :( i mean she IS a religious zealot just Doing Crazy Shit, they're not wrong about her, but the randos calling her a freak need to meet me in the parking lot

ALSO i just watched the dreaming episode, where it's strongly implied that she transformed herself specifically in order to be able to have children with a human (to fix the soul gap or whatever), and she's Destined For Sheridan and all, but she hadn't met him yet

and they weren't even an item when sinclair went into the past to start writing prophecies

soooo do you think she and sinclair were pen pals while he was on minbar and he read between the lines that she was super into this guy?? i think so.

jeffrey valen sinclair in the past writing prophecy about uniting the two halves of our souls: delenn bestie this one's for you <3 go get that blonde man