#m x m

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Three

MV, CL, CS, LH, LN, PG x fem!reader Warnings: primal play, smut, oral, cumplay, mxm, foursomes WC: 3.1k

F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

You asked, I answered - love Ollie xxx

Gentle waves lapped against the yacht as it was moored in the bay of the private island Max had hired for the week. Your morning had been spent enjoying the ocean spray and the sun with Max navigating the pristine waters of the Mediterranean before you had convinced him to leave the captain's chair and join you on the top deck. 

It was lucky there was nothing around for miles or the boat might have run aground when he saw you were sunbathing nude because he didn’t make it back to the steering wheel for quite some time. 

“I have a surprise,” Max said as he helped you step off the boat and onto the pier that led to the waterfront villa. 

Your already bright smile grew as a quad bike came down the beach and you grew impatient as Max failed to explain anything further. “Well, don’t leave me hanging,” you urged him. “What’s the surprise?”

“You’ll find out,” he teased before grabbing your hips and lifting you onto the back of the quad driven by one of the staff that maintained the villa. “Everything you need is in the backpack.”

He tipped your head back and crushed his lips to yours, nipping your bottom one as he pulled away smirking. “I’ll see you soon.”

You would have opened the backpack to try and figure out what was happening but the ATV revved and your hands were preoccupied with grabbing the handles as you were sequestered away. The ride was nowhere near as smooth as the yacht had been on the sea and you bounced around as the man Max had entrusted your safety to left the beach and drove inland, deep into the forest you had yet to explore.

“Nous voilà. Bonne chance,” he said as he stopped in a clearing with a small lake. Your French may have been limited but even you knew ‘goodluck’ when you heard it and you frowned as you hopped out of the offroad vehicle, grabbing the backpack before he left again.

“What the hell, Max,” you muttered as you were left alone and the sound of the bike was replaced with birdsong. 

There were staff all over the island, topping up supplies in the villa and maintaining the land, but they were very adept at keeping to the shadows to give you the privacy that was expected with your stay. You only hoped they were somewhere nearby as you took a seat at the edge of the water and opened the backpack to see an envelope with your name on it.

We know how much you love the chase and you know we love the competition, so while you and Max were off island we snuck on.  For each hour you escape us, another joins the hunt. Goodluck, Charles, Lewis, Carlos, Checo, Lando, Fernando, Pierre & George.

Your heart jumped at the thrill they offered and you opened the bag open further to see some warm clothes to go over the swimsuit you still wore along with shoes, food and water, as well as a map and compass. You unfolded the map first and saw there were places marked that offered more supplies before checking your watch. It was a little after noon and with sunset tending to be just before 9pm you could see yourself enjoying the night with all of them, if you could evade them for nine hours. 

It didn’t escape your notice that the names were in the same order of the driver standings and you knew it wasn’t going to be an easy task hiding from them on the island. It wasn’t that large but the forest offered the best chance with its cover so you pulled on the clothes and packed the bag up again before setting off into the bush, keeping your heading north with the compass.

The first hour passed quickly with you looking over your shoulder every ten seconds but the second hour grew a little tiresome as the initial burst of adrenaline retreated and the solitude of the dense trees left you going stir crazy. 

By late afternoon you knew Max, Charles, Lewis and Carlos were definitely about with Checo likely already having joined them too. It was Carlos’ laugh that alerted you to their proximity and you daren’t breathe as you dropped to the ground and rolled under a thicket of bush. Your ears pounded as your heart rate spiked and blood pumped furiously around your body. Excitement of the chase warred with the need to get caught and it took all your self control to keep still as they passed your hidden position. 

“Sucks to be you, mate,” Carlos teased, “you’ll be fighting your own brother for her next season.”

The thought of sharing the Leclerc brothers stoked the fire igniting in your body and your thighs pressed together tightly.

“Do you see any Alfa Romeo drivers here?” Charles shot back. 

“He makes a very good point,” Max said with a laugh. “But if you were champion you wouldn’t have to fight anyone.”

“Yeah,” Charles scoffed and you could picture him shaking his head.

“It’s not impossible to do, fucking difficult, don’t get me wrong, but not impossible,” Lewis noted as their voices faded off with the snaps of sticks under their boots. 

The last thing you heard was Checo suggesting splitting into smaller groups to cover more area and the others agreeing, you didn’t hear who teamed up with who.

Another two hours had passed by the time you reached the northern beach of the island, long shadows chasing the retreating tide as the temperature started dropping. It was quite the relief to find that a glamping tent had been set up and inside was a warm meal as well as more clothing and there was even a solar shower after all the walking you had done.  There was no way you were going to pass up the chance to have a hot shower and quickly stripped off your clothes before stepping under the refreshing water. 

If you weren’t so tired from the unexpected exercise the afternoon brought you might have questioned how the meal was hot or why the tent wasn’t on the map. 

“Well, well, look who wandered in,” Pierre chuckled as he stepped into the tent with a towel hung low on his hips, George at his side with wet hair and a grin on his lips. “This is a surprise.”

You froze as you realised this wasn’t a supply tent for you but where the guys were waiting for their time to join the hunt. “Fuck,” you cursed and stepped out from under the spray of water to grab a towel. 

“No need to cover up, love,” George tutted as crossed the distance in two long strides and blocked the shelf full of them. “I quite like you as you are.”

You looked at his watch and bit your lip at the heat of his stare. “You’re not playing yet.”

His thumb caught a drop of water clinging to your bottom lip and your nipples peaked as the air cooled around you. “I never play when it comes to you.”

Pierre watched with an amused look as he sat back on the bed that had been made with the same neatness as the beds in the villa. “It’s kind of a shame you’re here really, I was looking forward to hunting you down.”

Your chest rose and fell with quick breaths as you enjoyed the same thought. “You could let me go, there’s still five minutes.”

His head tilted as he pondered the decision but your attention was torn when George’s knuckles traced your jawline before trailing down your neck and over your collarbone, a soft sigh parting your lips at the touch. 

“Tempting,” George muttered, “but we can hardly let you walk out of here when you look at us like that.” 

A shiver rolled down your spine as your tired muscles were refreshed with an injection of adrenaline and a smile played at your lips. Unable to help yourself, you grabbed George’s hips and rose on your tiptoes to brush your lips across his cheek. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

Your fingers curled into his towel and pulled it from his hips as you ran out of the tent, Pierre’s deep laugh promising retribution as it followed you out. “Four minutes, chérie!”

Your feet were flying as you sprinted off the beach and back into the treeline knowing Pierre would be hot on your heels the moment the hour clicked over. You checked your watch to see how much time was left and cursed as you remembered taking it off to shower. 

You didn’t have a single clue what direction you were heading, all you wore was George’s towel and the low sun barely saturated the canopy of leaves overhead. Realistically, you weren’t sure you could outrun the guys for another hour to get your share of them all but you kept trying.

Your lungs burned and your bare feet hurt but you kept your head down and kept moving before bursting through the tree line into a clearing, crashing into the back of someone. You both fell to the ground with a surprised shout and he managed to wrap his arms around you before the impact came but the towel managed to come free. Rolling on top of him, you straddled his waist and pinned his shoulders down.

“Got you.”

Charles' stunned expression only lasted a second before he grinned. “The hunter becomes the hunted.”

“Where are your clothes?” Max asked as he picked up the towel and you saw Carlos in the clearing too, the trio making up one of the teams they split into.

You dragged your eyes up the length of his body and licked your lips. “Why, want me to cover up?”

“No fucking way, hermosa,” Carlos replied quickly as he took the towel from Max and balled it up before throwing it back into the bush. “This is perfect.”

“You look cold,” Charles commented as he pushed himself up on his elbows to flick his tongue over your nipples and a needy whine poured from you. “I think between the three of us we can warm you up.”

Your mind went blank at the promise of being between them and your hips rocked over his in search of friction. “Please…”

Carlos was already shucking his jacket and ripping his belt out of the loops with a sharp snap so he could kick off his jeans while Max was content to lean against a tree, arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold before him.

Your head fell back with a cry when Charles bit the swell of your breast and your knees tightened around him in response to the bolt of lightning you felt in your core. “Fuck, I missed those sounds,” he groaned as he pulled away before tugging you up his body and positioning your cunt over his lips. “Not as much as I missed how you taste.”

The heat of his breath blowing across your core was nothing compared to his tongue as he tasted you for the first time in weeks and your jaw fell slack with a moan. 

“That’s it, baby, open wide,” Carlos praised, his fist pumping slowly up and down his cock as stepped closer. 

There was something wild and freeing with being lost in the middle of a remote island, the scents of the earth and natural light colliding with the dominant energy rolling off the men. And knowing there were even more of them out there searching for you made you feral with need. 

Your lips sealed around Carlos and your nails dug into his ass as you pulled him closer, burying him down your throat until you gagged. His hand found its way to the back of your head and he held you there as your eyes watered and you almost had to tap out.

“Dios mío,” he moaned as he watched you gasp for air before taking him once again, tears staining your cheeks. 

Your legs began to tremble around Charles and he moaned as your arousal ran down his chin. The tension that had been building all day finally peaked and stars danced around your vision as Charles’ tongue and Carlos’ cock found the perfect rhythm.

Carlos grinned as your eyelashes fanned across your cheeks, droplets glistening along them while your throat tightened around him. “That’s a good girl,” he praised and wrapped his large hand around your throat to feel your struggles with his size. 

Your orgasm shattered every inch of you and your cries were smothered as Carlos’ hand tightened, his hips thrusting forward as he joined you. His taste filled your mouth and you hummed as it ran down your chin before you climbed back down Charles' body and saw the mess on his face.

“Open your mouth, Charles,” Max said with a smirk as he pushed off the tree and knelt beside him. Charles obeyed in an instant but Max wasn’t satisfied as he caught his chin and opened his mouth wider. “Go on, baby, he’s dying for a taste too.”

You leaned forward and parted your lips, letting the thick stream of cum flow into Charles’ mouth before he pulled you down and shared the taste on your tongue with a deep groan.

“How was your warm up?” Max asked as he lifted you off Charles. Your feet touched the ground and though they were a little weak from the orgasm they seemed stable enough.

“Warm up?”

Max checked his phone and chuckled before he slapped your ass. “Run, rabbit, run.”

Carlos’ laugh echoed Max’s from where he was pulling his boxers back up his thick thighs. “Here come the wolves.”

Two British accents caught your attention from somewhere in the trees and everyone turned to the sound but while they were distracted you bolted in the opposite direction, your legs bumbling like a newborn fawn. You barely made it fifty yards before a pair of strong arms caught you and you let out a surprised scream as the ground disappeared from under your feet. 

Your already smarting ass took a fresh smack from Lewis’ large hand and you moaned as the heat spread across your skin. Peering up from where you had been tossed over his shoulder, you smiled as Lando caught up with his own lopsided grin. 

“Hey gorgeous,” he greeted before Lewis turned around to say something to him but Lando was a little distracted. “Oh, hello gorgeous.” 

His lips felt refreshingly cool against the handprints burning backside and you fell limp against Lewis’ back with a sigh at how good it felt. The upside down world starting to spin when Lewis held your legs apart so Lando could fuck you with his fingers and you quickly got lightheaded from it all. 

“Tu vas bien?”

You worked hard to push yourself up to see Pierre had found you with his trademark smirk painted on his face and you gave him the thumbs up as your lips parted with another breathless moan. “Just exploring the island.”

“So I see,” he chuckled as he circled around you. “Heads or tails?”

“Heads,” Lewis called before Pierre tossed a coin in the air and slapped it down on his hand, Lewis’ deep laugh vibrating through you at the result. For a second you were almost airborne before he caught you and lowered your feet back to the ground to see the damp mark on his shirt. His smile was one of pure indulgence as he held your eyes and lifted the material to his lips and tasted you with a hum of satisfaction. “On your knees, babygirl.”

Your fingers worked his belt open and pulled his cargo pants down as you sank to your knees, your hand wrapping around his thick cock before you wet your lips. A pair of hands gripped your hips and you moaned around your mouthful as Lando pulled you back to meet his thrust.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, gorgeous,” Lando groaned happily.

Needing to breathe, you pulled back with a gasp and peeked over your shoulder to see Pierre pressed against Lando’s back and your core clenched as both of their eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

“Oh my fuck,” you moaned as a delightful shiver spread across your body and Pierre placed his hands over Lando’s, holding your hips too as he set the pace.

“You like that, babygirl?” Lewis asked with a knowing smile as he ran a thumb over your swollen lips. “You want to watch them too?”

You nodded eagerly and tongue lashed across the pad of his thumb before you sucked it into your mouth and his chest rose quickly with the deep breath he took. He pulled you away from Lando, the emptiness only lasting a moment as he spun you around to face them and stretched your cunt as he snapped his hips forward.

Your hands braced on Lando’s chest and he stole the startled cry by crushing his lips against yours. You broke away breathless and your head fell back to rest in the crook of Lewis’ neck.

“Open your eyes,” Pierre ordered and they snapped open at the command to meet his over Lando’s shoulder.

Your eyes trailed down Lando’s body to where Pierre was stroking his hard length smoothly thanks to your arousal slick on his palms. You could hardly breathe as Lewis matched their pace, his tattooed hand reaching around you to find your clit.

“Uh-uh, eyes, chérie.”

Heat spread up your spine and tremors followed as the pleasure built to breaking point. It was the deep moan that Lando made as he came that tipped you over the edge and your fingers gathered the cum that warmed your skin so you could taste him too.

“Oh, babygirl,” Lewis moaned in your ear before spanking his palm across your ass. “You’re so tight, I can’t even, ugh,” his words were lost to his bliss as he rolled his hips slowly, milking every last drop that had begun to leak down your thighs.

“Putain,” Pierre swore as saw the delicious mess that had been made and slammed his dick into Lando one last time before spilling his own.

For a moment the clearing was silent except for the heavy breathing from all the exertion but then a slow clap started and Max, Charles and Carlos stepped out from the trees.

“Please don’t make me run again,” you panted from where you were sitting on Lewis’ lap, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“You’re welcome,” Lewis chuckled low in your ear.

“Luckily, the villa is just through those trees,” Max said as he pointed behind you and sure enough there were lights when you looked properly. “You, my little rabbit, have earned a bit of recovery time. After all, we have all night.”

Click here for part four.

Tagging: @slytherheign @alwaysclassyeagle @godess-of-mist @leahstf @mydutchproblem

#formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 smut #formula one smut #the best kept secret on the grid #m x m #max verstappen x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #lewis hamilton x you #carlos sainz x reader

[quailfence]

[Image description: text that reads “‘to me? I am not Human.’ ‘If I don't know that, who does?’ ‘I.’ Kirk sobered. ‘Spock, we have lived with that, too. From the pon farr to the spores. You've banged me—us--around once in a while. So what?’” End description.]

hello?!

(book is The Promethus Desgin)

#described #star trek #star trek the original series #star trek beta canon #star trek novels #the promethus design #james t kirk #spock #jim x spock #m x m #quail original #big post #100 #how did I make two posts that got over 100 notes within 2 weeks of each other #tag rambles #200

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

CW: death threats, knives

There was only one thing worse than having a crush on your straight roommate: having a crush on your straight villain roommate. 

Actually worse than that were rent prices, which kept Civilian from running as far in the opposite direction as he could get after he gave his statement to the police. 

A statement that contained a big, gaping hole. 

Because it couldn’t be true, right? It had to be a coincidence. Lots of people had weird, star shaped birthmarks on their ribs. It was a huge leap of logic to assume that the villain who had just tried to rob the bank that morning had the exact same birthmark as Civilian’s roommate for the past two years. 

Or maybe he just imagined it. It had been a very traumatic day. Civilian went home after the police released him and had a massive panic attack in the shower for about forty five minutes and then pressed two weighted blankets on him in bed like a panini grill. 

Having a group of villains stride into your workplace, guns blazing, would do that to you. As would getting stuck in the crossfire between said villains and the Hero from behind a desk, praying a stray bullet or laser beam wouldn’t hit and kill you. 

It was only a coincidence that Civilian had seen the birthmark. Near the end of the fight, one of the villains had been thrown over the very desk Civilian cowered behind, hitting the wall hard enough that even Civilian winced in sympathy. 

He laid there for a moment, dazed, half his torso exposed from a rip in his clothes, that stupid, undeniable birthmark on full display. Civilian could only stare at it, head dizzy as if he also took blunt force trauma to it. The villain groaned and sat up. 

For one agonizingly long second their eyes met. Civilian felt like a kitten spotted by a hawk. This was it. His time was up. He’d be just another statistic on the news -- 

But the villain just put a finger on his lips -- a silent command for silence -- that Civilian could only nod helplessly at. Then the villain slipped away in the chaos and disappeared. 

And besides, it couldn’t be his roommate because his roommate was in Colorado, visiting some online friend of his and going mountain biking or whatever. 

Two days after the attack, Roommate burst through the front door, dumping his duffel bag onto the floor and stepping towards Civilian with a scary single minded determination. 

It took every ounce of control not to flinch when Roommate cupped his face, gaze roving over his features as if looking for injuries. 

Roommate himself looked untouched from the fight. It almost made Civilian second guess himself. But he hadn’t spent the last two days analyzing every detail his love-sick brain had filed away for the last two years to doubt himself now. 

That villain and his roommate were the same person. 

“I saw the news,” Roommate said. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I tried to change my flight but this was the soonest I could get in.”

The lie hurt. Obviously Roommate hadn’t been mountain biking in Colorado for the past few days so it begged the question: what else did he lie about? Was this concern just an elaborate play at innocence? But if his roommate was taking the time to craft this act of concern, then he must not think Civilian knew. 

And if Civilian valued his life, he’d have to keep it that way and force normalcy. 

“I’m fine,” he said, trying for a smile and coming up with a grimace. “I mean, I’m not fine. It was fucking scary, but I didn’t get hurt. So there’s that. Work’s given me a week off and then. . .”

Roommate scowled. “And then what? They can’t possibly think you’d be okay working there again after only a few days off? You should quit.”

“Quit?” Civilian’s eyebrows raised. “And we both get thrown out on our asses? We’re lucky enough to have this apartment as it is.”

“I have enough savings to get us through for a few weeks while you find another job,” Roommate insisted. 

“I thought you blew it all on Colorado,” Civilian joked weakly. 

And where the fuck did those savings come from? he wanted to ask. But he didn’t dare. 

“Not all of it. Seriously. You should think about it.”

Something gleamed in the roommate’s eyes, like a warning. Civilian swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“Okay. I’ll think about it. I just . . .I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit. It’s good to have you back. You’ll have to tell me all about it when I wake up again.”

Roommate’s face lit up with a smile and Civilian’s heart twisted in his chest. “I have so many good photos. It’s beautiful out there.You should come with me next time.”

“Yeah sure,” said Civilian thoughtlessly, thinking only of the dark safety of his room. 

“Get some rest.” Roommate nudged Civilian towards the hallway. “I’ll order us pizza.”

Civilian nodded and forced his steps to slow as he made his way to the bedroom. Once the door shut and the fan turned on, he buried his head under his pillows and tried to get his breathing under control. 

Faking normalcy was going to be harder than he thought. 

"Oh you're starting dinner already?"

Civilian jumped at the sound of his roommate's voice, the knife slipping and nearly cutting  into his fingertip. A quick glance over his shoulder showed his roommate leaning against the opposite counter, arms folded loosely over his chest. 

Just a casual chat. And yet it felt like a fist suddenly gripped Civilian's heart. Even after three days, it still felt like walking the knife’s edge every time they were in the same room together. 

"I, um, got bored," he said, thankful to be facing away so his terror wouldn't show as he fought it back down. "I didn't know you'd be home so soon."

"I took a half day at lunch. Did some shopping. I got you more of that tea. It seemed to help you sleep."

A hint of guilt colored his roommate's nonchalance. Or maybe Civilian just imagined it. 

"Thanks," Civilian said.

Focus. Focus on the potato. Cube the potato. Be the potato. 

Heart thudding in his ears, his concentration on chopping vegetables, Civilian didn't hear the movement until his roommate's head appeared over his shoulder. 

"What are you making?" he asked. 

Civilian swallowed down a lick of sudden hysteria. 

Get a fucking hold of yourself he thought. There is no reason why he'd be suspicious unless you're acting like a lunatic!

"Soup," he managed to croak. "The, uh, kind at the Italian restaurant you like."

A bribe. A hope. A way to remind himself that he knew his roommate, right? They've lived together for two years. 

And true to form, his roommate's eyes brightened. "Oh excellent! We haven't had that in ages."

"That's because chopping all these vegetables is a pain in the ass."

A thick tension rose and tightened between them. Civilian concentrated on chopping, trying to ignore the heat at his back as his roommate didn't step away, didn't leave. Just watched him. 

"You're using the wrong knife, you know," the roommate said softly. 

" . . .what?"

The roommate reached over Civilian's shoulder to the knife block on the counter and pulled one out. It was small and two fingers wide, short and wickedly sharp. Fear clenched Civilian's throat with icy hands. 

"You're using a butcher knife," his roommate murmured against Civilian's ear. A shiver fluttered down his neck. "That's for cutting meat. You need a paring knife for vegetables."

" . . .Oh." Was it just him or did the kitchen suddenly feel low on air? "I'll . . . remember that . . .for next time. . ."

"Why don't I take over? At least for the chopping."

Civilian tightened his grip on the knife, an instinctive gesture he had no control over. But even though Roommate had offered help in the kitchen many times, that same instinct screamed not to let him. Something felt different this time. 

"I got it," he said, forcing lightness in his tone. "You know you're hopeless in the kitchen."

"I'm good with knives, though." Civilian swallowed down another spike of cold terror. "It's the least I can do if you're making me my favorite."

The paring knife rested just inside Civilian's peripheral, deceptively harmless. 

"Why don't you put the gnocchi on to boil," he said. "I'm almost done here."

His roommate sighed, a rush of air against Civilian’s cheek. "You're always so stubborn," he said with sad fondness. 

The paring knife moved like a flash and suddenly it's cold steel pressed light as a kiss just under Civilian's jaw. 

His breath froze in his lungs. 

"Drop the knife, Civilian."

" . . .Roommate?" It wasn't difficult to pitch his voice high in uncertain fear. To pretend shock. "What are you doing?"

"I know that you know."

"Know what?" Civilian breathed and then cringed at how unbelievable it sounded even to his own ears. 

He only had room in his head for one secret,  it was hard to sound convincingly ignorant when every cell screamed at him to run away. 

"You've tried so valiantly to hide it, but I know you too well." Roommate's murmured against his ear.  "You're afraid."

Civilian dragged a shaky breath into his lungs. "You have a knife to my throat."

"And you are nowhere near as shocked about that as you should be." Roommate twisted the knife until the flat of the blade lay against Civilian's skin -- and then he dragged it, achingly slow, over Civilian's jawline to rest against raw bitten lips. 

A wave of dizziness gripped him, driven by fear mixed with the heady, dangerous edge of want, the desire Civilian struggled with for so many months wrapping its claws around his chest. 

"Be a good boy and drop the knife."

Breath came fast and heavy as he willed himself to relax his fingers, to release the knife. Not that he would have even thought of it as a weapon and not a kitchen tool until his roommate demonstrated it. But with one having danced so close to his pulse, letting go of his own felt like a death sentence. 

The second he dropped the knife, his roommate twisted a hand into the fabric of his shirt and hauled him across the kitchen to pin him against the fridge. The smiling tomato magnet they grabbed as a joke at a yard sale clattered to the floor and broke into pieces. The roommate  doesn't so much as flinch, their gaze like stone, the knife never wavering from Civilian's neck.

He swallows thickly against the panic, never more afraid in his life than in this moment. He never thought death would look like his favorite person in the world ready to slit his throat with a paring knife. 

And yet the desire still thrummed beneath it all, a twisted hunger being fed from such close contact, like his body forgot to stop yearning in light of what his mind knew. But the stone-cold glint in his roommate’s eyes twisted his face from comfortingly familiar into dangerously unrecognizable. 

Seeing it shattered something in Civilian just like that stupid magnet. His eyes prickled and stung; the roommate's face turned blurry. Humiliated, he darted his gaze to the window, focusing on the speck of green of the neighbor’s tree swaying in the breeze. 

And waited for death. 

Time stretched long and excruciating between each heartbeat. Then the coolness of the knife disappeared, replaced by warm fingers that nudged his gaze back to his roommate’s.

“Hey,” the roommate said softly. 

That granite hardness of his gaze had melted into soft concern. The exact kind of look he gave Civilian each time a migraine flared up. The reminder of that felt as dangerous as the knife. It couldn’t be real. 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face. 

“Don’t say that!” Civilian hissed. “I didn’t do anything and you’re going to kill me.”

He flinched from the hand that raised up, knocking his head painfully against the fridge. But Roommate only brushed a stray tear away with his calloused thumb. 

“You’re right,” he said pensively. “You didn’t do anything. And I’m not going to kill you.”

He turned and tossed the knife into the sink. Civilian did not feel any safer, however. He felt like a bug under the shadow of a boot,  even as Roommate smoothed his hands over Civilian’s chest in a display of casual affection he would have died for a week earlier. 

“Here is what I am going to do,” he continued. “I’m going to finish dinner. You’re going to compose yourself in a long hot shower and when you get out we are going to eat and have a discussion about the way things are going to be from now on. Is that alright?”

Civilian nodded, not trusting his voice. What other answer could he possibly give?

Part two here

#hero x villain #villain x civilian #m x m #enemies to lovers #writeblr #original fiction #my writing #not a prompt #a good roommate is hard to find

[tickly-giggles]

Wing tks anyone~?

#dabihawks #dabi #hawks #bnha #mha #hawks mha #dabi mha #dabi/hawks #lee!dabi #ler!hawks #mha tickle #sfw tickling community #sfw mha tickling #m x m #bnha tickling #drawn by me

[yesiwatchcartoonz]

#hellava boss #cartoon #hb #helluva boss blitzo #hb blitzo #m x m #stolitz #blitzo x stolas #otp #hb stolas #hb loona #helluva boss stolas #yesiwatchcartoonz

[shinestarhwaa]

I’m hereeeee !!

Okay okay so you may or may not know my sub Mingi agenda, that man is so fekjshejejsjdjd

But but but, what if he were to get with a virgin ? I think the dynamic would be pretty interesting because it isn’t in his nature to be dominant but he wants to comfort and help you because it’s your first time :((

would it end with him guiding you in how to please him ? would it end with him on a service top wavelength ? I’ll leave that up to you ml <3

I've never written this before but I think this plot is interesting so here goes nothing-

NIRVANA || SONG MINGI

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Bf!Mingi x Male reader

Word Count: 0.9K

Warnings/tags: Dirty language, virginity loss, blowjob, handjob, fingering, anal protected sex, mingi has a bigass cock, mingi is actually a sub but will be a softdom for you bb <3, catch is he will still take dick in his ass even if he ain't a sub

@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86

Tell me if u wanna be added to my taglist ❣️

ENJOY!

You were nervous, so nervous your heart was pounding against your chest. You wondered if Mingi could hear it. You straddled him on his bed and you had just confessed to be a virgin.

"That's not a problem," he smiled, "I can show you how to do it."

Mingi pressed his lips on yours, softly moving them against you as he started unbottoning your shirt. His hands slid over your chest as he deepened the kiss.

You felt yourself getting weak at the knees, even while sitting, completely melting into Mingi's arms.

It didn't take long before both your pants and boxers were off, leaving you two in nothing but your unbuttoned shirt and his oversized hoodie.

Your cock stood proudly against your stomach, twitching at the anticipation of what would happen tonight. "I'll show you how a blowjob feels, hm? You deserve to get your dick sucked, baby."

He gestured you to sit at the edge of the bed, where you sat down as he got on his knees in front of you.

The way his eyes looked up at you as he took the tip of your cock in his mouth had you shuddering with anticipation. You had been waiting for this moment for too long.

Mingi lightly sucked on the tip, flicking his tongue around it. You whined softly, grabbing a handful of his hair when he lowered his mouth on you.

"O-oh god, M-Mingi!" You moaned out when his pace quickened. Mingi took it slow but the slurping noises leaving his mouth nearly made you reach Nirvana.

"F-fuck, just like that, t-that's so good Mingi!"

He made sure your eyes were focussed on him as he took care of your cock, palming your balls and massaging them to increase the stimulation.

His head bobbed up and down your cock quickly as he dug his nails in your thighs. You groaned as you felt the familiar warmth in your lower tummy.

"Mingi, oh God, I swear, I'm gonna cum if you don't sto-- Oh- oh- Oh god, god, yes, c-cumming!"

He pulled off your cock and pumped it quickly in his large hand, making you cum all over his face.

"Gosh," you panted out, "you're insane." Your boyfriend grinned as he swiped some cum off his face. "You're quite delicious, Y/N."

"Now, I'm gonna teach you how to finger me," Mingi said as he layed down on the bed, spreading his legs. Your eyes widened at his casualness. Mingi reached over to his nightstand to grab a bottle of lube.

"Come on, Y/N, I'm not waiting forever," he grinned. "How can I focus with this view?" You defended yourself as you crawled over to him.

Mingi squirts the lube on your fingers and some on his hole, biting his lip at the coldness.

"Okay, you can insert one finger." "Any finger?" Mingi rolled his eyes. "Use your middle finger, idiot." You laughed and carefully inserted your middle finger into his puckering hole.

"Now slowly... Don't go too crazy right away, go easy," Mingi gasped. He folded his legs up to his chest, giving you perfectly easy access.

You slowly moved your fingers in and out of him, deeper and deeper every time. Mingi whined when he felt your long, slender finger reach places he couldn't himself.

"N-now put in a second one, put it in baby," he moaned. You pushed a second finger into Mingi, picking up the pace. You felt a bump inside him and Mingi groaned and twitched at the feeling of you hitting it.

"Right, right there baby, do that again," he moaned. You smirked, gaining confidence and you entered a third finger, fucking him deeply, scissoring him open.

"God, yes, that's it baby, keep doing that!" He moaned out. "Right there, Mingi? Do you like that?" "O-oh I like it, I love it, fuck, oh~"

Your soul nearly projected from your body as Mingi started to moan louder, jerking off his own cock as you fucked him with your fingers.

He stopped when he felt himself get close. He pinned you down on the bed and licked a stripe up your neck with a big smirk. "Gonna ride you now, okay? Gonna bounce on your pretty cock."

Mingi positioned himself above you, sinking down on your length rising back up to bottom out. He repeated this a few times before completely taking your cock, sitting on you, adjusting to the stretch of his hole around your dick.

Your boyfriend started bouncing on your member, sounds of skin clapping together and whiny moans filling the room.

You closed your eyes, groaning at the feeling of Mingi's hole on your cock. "Keep your eyes open, for me. Watch me. Watch me bounce on your cock, look at me."

Looking straight into his eyes, you saw the pleasure taking over. He quickened his pace, cock twitching as it leaked with pre-cum.

He looked just adorable like this, even if he was a tall guy, the way he took your cock in his ass and the way his hands played with his dick made you lose your mind.

"I'm so close! Gonna fucking cum!" Mingi moaned loudly. "M-me too, Me too, baby!" You moaned when he picked up the pace. His hole clenched around your dick, sending you over the edge.

"Yes! Yes, pump your fucking seeds in me!" Mingi moaned as he came over your chest. When he was done he layed down on your chest, face right in his cum as your cum dribbled out of his ass.

"Y-you got it now?"

"Yeah I think I got the hang of it, time for round 2?"

#kpop #ateez #smut #mingi #song mingi #ateez x reader #ateez x male reader #mingi x male reader #m x m

[rielzero]

A while ago I saw someone make a fun headcanon post were Ascended Astarion bites (more like nips than bite through) his consort as a stress relief, since a lot of folks see his relationship with them as a safety/comfort blanket I suppose? Very gently. Needs them around all the time. Idk, just thought it was cute.

My own take is more inspired by the grabby-ness of the patch 6 kisses, (less of the playful shoving/pushing) where Astarion will feel very touchy-feely as a means of comforting.

Astarion: *Grabs hold of Locke's chin and studies the side of his neck, just staring at the bitemarks he's left.*

Loki: *confused look, then looks amused*

They could just be doing about anything and Astarion will casually put his thumb to his lip to get a look at his fangs. Loki: I don't think I have cavities. *makes a face because he's not sure why he keeps doing that* Astarion: *absent-minded-satisfied-happy face* Hmm? Oh. Of course you don't, you're perfect.

Loki: So you keep saying, you're being very grabby lately.

Astarion: Ah- *releases*

Loki: Oh- I don't mind!

Astarion: Astarion: *Grabs hold of his face again*

The touchiness continues in almost any scenario, even if they're not directly engaged in conversation with each other. Astarion just needs to redirect Loki towards him for a moment, and he starts doing it subconsciously out of habit. There's not much thought behind it beyond affection.

Loki: *looking over documents he's holding* Astarion: *engaged in a conversation with his staff, wandering around the room as he's directing them to new tasks and plans* Loki: *Sorting the documents, not looking at Astarion* Astarion: *during his wandering, he moves closer to Loki, tilts his chin with a gentle caress while he's talking to staff*

Loki: *looks up from the movement, blinks confused when he makes eyecontact* Astarion: *smiles at him, caresses his shoulder before turning his face back to staff while he's still engaged in conversation with them.*

Loki: *raises a brow, small smile while he turns his attention back to the documents, shakes his head in amusement*

The staff: *all carefully observing the body language while listening, they see Astarion do this all the time, it's kind of expected at this point.*

Pfff. Can you imagine the diary / journal entries of the servants? The fanatics would be drafting entire paragrahps detailing all the tiny micro-movements he's making towards Loki even if they're not talking to each other. All Loki has to do is be in the room, and Astarion will subconsciously direct affectionate glances towards him no matter what is happening. And Loki would do the same towards him, of course. Lots of staring, lost in thought.. Fidgeting. Rubbing his wrist affectionately while he's getting lost in Astarion's voice. (bitemark location.)

They don't have to be directly engaged with each other for affection to be radiating off of them through the room. And everyone gets to see it. All the time.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #the dark consort #dark consort #vampire tav #vampire spawn #vampire groom #male tav #astarion x tav #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion x male tav #half elf #warlock #romance #lgbt #gay #m x m #baldur's gate 3 #lord astarion #ascended astarion #cute

[mrsaltieri-real]

Good Boy, Meeks (Mickey Altieri X Randy Meeks)

Words: 2.8k

Warning/s: language, smut, slight dom/sub dynamic, handjobs, blowjob, teasing, cum eating, cum play, filming/sex tape, hair pulling, Randy’s a nervous wreck, Mickey’s a teasing ass, implied stalking, frenemies to fuck buddies.

A/N: SO this is my first fic that is two canon characters. No reader insert, no OC. Just Mickey and Randy. The Film Bro’s™️. This was ridiculously fun to write, I’m definitely going to do stuff like this more often. I love them so much. Thank you @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing! You’re such a massive help dude!

I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Mickey had always found Randy sweet.

In a lot of ways, they were the same. Film geeks with an unfiltered passion for cinema and the art surrounding it, constantly looking for a deeper meaning, both there and in real life. Then again, they were more different than similar.

Randy was a small town boy still reeling from the series of murders that rocked him a year back. He never showed it, but he lived in a constant state of unease, glancing over his shoulder and never letting anybody but Sidney in. Even then, he couldn’t talk to her about this stuff. She was healing, getting better. He was happy for her, but when she began dating Derek, he realized that he truly was all alone.

Mickey, on the other hand, was from the city. Eager, outgoing, confident. He wasn’t scared about people finding him arrogant or full of himself, he lived his life with no regrets. He was being bankrolled through college by Billy Loomis’ mother to help her finish the job he and Stu Macher couldn’t. Mickey was violent, in more ways than the obvious. His ambition made him all the more magnetic, especially to Randy.

They had a fun frenemy vibe going for a while, though they both knew it was more affectionate than anything. Mickey liked Randy, he thought he was simply adorable. Randy liked Mickey, he enjoyed arguing with him even though most of the time he knew he was just saying opposing views on cinema to get a rise out of him, like when he’d sat in front of him and blatantly said that Superman 2 was better than Superman 1. Randy could see the amusement in his eyes as he argued back, but decided to roll with it.

Anything to stretch out the conversation.

Randy wasn’t gay. He knew he wasn’t gay, he’d been in love with Sidney since before he even knew what love was. But sometimes, just sometimes, he’d glance over at Mickey in class or in the cafeteria, watch his head tip back as he laughed, the dimples in his cheeks. His eyes would drift to his strong, muscular arms, watch his huge hands run through his hair or drum against his thigh, and it was almost impossible to look away.

But no, he wasn’t gay, he wasn’t bi, he was straight. Right?

“Randy!” Fingers snapped in front of Randy’s face, and he blinked, shaking his head before his blue eyes tentatively met light brown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine, why?” Randy cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat and looking down at his paper. He and Mickey had been paired for a project on cinematography in horror, and it bugged Randy that the moment their names were spoken out one after the other by their professor, he’d felt his heart flutter a little.

“Well, I was talking to you and you were just… Staring at me.” Mickey’s tone was light, almost playful. He didn’t look away from Randy, his grin spreading wider as he saw the rush of colour flood to the boy's cheeks. How cute is that?

“Fuck off, Mickey, no I wasn’t.” Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “Stop fucking around, what were you saying?”

“C’mon, Meeks! Tell me what you were thinking about.” Mickey leaned forward in his own seat, his hand reaching out and playfully pushing Randy’s shoulder. Randy swatted at his hand, only making Mickey chuckle and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay!” He shook his head, still smiling as he grabbed his camera from his desk, flipping the small flap open and holding it up. “Don’t wanna tell me? Tell the camera.”

“Mickey, I swear to God, fuck off.” Randy held up his hand, turning his head to the side and burying his face into his shoulder. “You’re such an ass, dude.”

“Aw, I know.” Mickey didn’t drop the camera. His eyes were fixed on Randy through the tiny screen, his head tilting just slightly to the side. His smile had changed into a somewhat affectionate half smile, watching as Randy peeked up at him. “What?”

“You like me, don’t you?”

The question took him by such surprise, Randy let out a laugh that was a little too loud, a roll of his eyes that was a little too dramatic and stood to his feet, pushing the chair back a little too hard. Mickey watched the ordeal with an amused expression and a cocked brow, the camera still focused on Randy, “I think you’re a dick.”

“And I think that you think I’m blind and stupid.” Mickey retorted, finally looking up from the small screen, his eyes settling and Randy’s awkward stance. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t do that.”

Randy looked away, as he says, “I don’t like you. Not like that.”

Mickey presses, “Like what?”

“Like- Oh, shut up.” Randy muttered, beginning to walk toward Mickey’s bathroom.

Before he could get past him, Mickey’s large hand that Randy had so often admired shot out, wrapping around his forearm easily and holding him next to him.

“Don’t make it weird, Meeks. We can fuck if that’s what you want.”

Mickey said it so matter-of-factly it took Randy a little by surprise, his eyes shooting to Mickey, who still gripped the camera in his other hand, the band around his wrist and his arm resting beside him.

“But you’re not…” Randy’s voice trailed off and Mickey let out another laugh.

There is that infuriatingly dazzling smile as he asked, “I’m not what? Gay?”

Randy stumbles over his words as he responds, “I mean… Yeah. I’ve seen you with girls and stuff.”

“Yeah, so? What, you're a film major and think people can’t branch out a little?”

Randy frowned, this isn’t as simple as making a movie in a different genre, at least not to Randy. His eyes darting from Mickey’s hand wrapped around his arm and to his face. He couldn’t deny, when Mickey touched him, he felt an uncomfortably strong wave of arousal flow through his body and stab him straight in the stomach.

Fuck, he hated that Mickey made him feel this way. Fucking Mickey Altieri of all people. It was no surprise really, though. Randy had seen first hand, he could pretty much fuck anybody he wanted. He was outrageously attractive, magnetic and just downright charming. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to him, and had been for a pathetic amount of time. And now, here he was, telling him he wanted him.

Randy didn’t move, caught in a hesitating limbo, so Mickey helped him, tugging on his arm and pulling him in front of him.

He had no idea what he was doing. He’d thought about this, this moment more times than he cared to admit whilst he was fisting his cock in the shower, thinking of Mickey. His hands, his arms, his smile, his cock, and more often than not, his lips. He was always filled with guilt after, wondering how Mickey would feel if he knew that Randy touched himself to thoughts of him on his knees with Mickey in his mouth.

This was fucking unbearable.

Mickey’s brown eyes were fixed on Randy’s torn expression, watching the vast array of emotions pass over his face. Suddenly, it wasn’t so amusing.

“Nod if you want me.” Mickey said, his voice unnaturally soft and tender.

Randy’s final thought was simple.

Fuck it.

He nodded his head, eyes, watching as Mickey released his arm and gently palmed over himself. Randy hadn’t noticed before that he was already half hard. Did he know? This entire time that Randy wanted him this much? Did he want it as long as he did, too?

Mickey didn’t speak, but he stood to his feet, placing the still rolling camera down on his desk, the lenses facing them, a light smile on his lips as he leaned forward, his hand moving from his own aching bulge in favour of Randy’s. The two of them were wearing sweatpants, and Mickey smiled in satisfaction at how fucking hard Randy was for him. He could feel his heat, feel the throbbing before he even made contact.

Mickey’s other hand cradled Randy’s flushed cheek, finding it sweet how panicked Randy looked, as if he was afraid this was all some big joke to his expense. But this wasn’t, Mickey wanted Randy, had done since the first day the little geek challenged him in film class.

Randy found that focusing on the beauty spot just beside Mickey’s eyes calmed him down slightly, humanizing the other boy a little more.

Mickey wasn’t going to kiss Randy first, however. He felt like that was something Randy had to do, and it didn’t take him anywhere near as long as he expected.

The minute Mickey’s head ghosted over him, Randy bit the bullet, closing the space and pressing his lips against Mickey’s with a passion that took Mickey by surprise. Randy let out a shaking moan into his mouth, pushing himself greedily against Mickey’s hand in desperate need for friction, to which the other boy eagerly obliged, his hand moving to frail his fingers down Randy’s happy trail and slipping smoothly into Randy’s sweats and boxers, eagerly kissing him back as he did. Mickey tasted like mint, his lips were unbearably soft and something about them seemed like home, the rough feeling of Mickey’s stubble scratched against Randy’s face, so satisfying and just how he dreamed it would.

The moment Randy felt Mickey’s well worked hand wrap around his cock, he was worried he was going to cum then and there. His hips thrust a little as he gasped into Mickey’s mouth, feeling him smile against him as he did. Randy’s hands were fast and eager, but he was stopped sharply by Mickey, who pulled back, shaking his head.

“Oh, God I- I’m sorry, fuck, I-“

Randy began rambling, his face flushing a deep red. Mickey simply rolled his eyes, bending down to pull Randy’s sweats and boxers down before pulling his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. “Shut up, I thought it would be easier this way, no?”

This was the first time Randy had seen Mickey shirtless. He momentarily marvelled at the hairs on his chest, his toned stomach, and swallowed thickly.

Before Randy could reply, Mickey kissed him, deeper and with more vigour than last time. Randy’s leaking cock pressed between both of their stomachs. Mickey’s hands gripped Randy’s hips, pulling him even closer to him and forcing him to grind against him before he pressed him firmly up against the wall, his lips beginning to drift from Randy’s lips, to his jaw, to his throat.

“F-fuck.” Randy’s moan was unsteady, his hands unconsciously moving to knot in his thick dark hair, his hips beginning to grind against him by themselves. The friction felt incredible, but what felt even better was Mickey’s hand beginning to slowly pump Randy’s cock as he kissed his neck, the sensation making goosebumps rise on his skin.

Mickey used Randy’s pre-cum as lube as he allowed the boy to messily thrust against his hand, his simpering whimpers and moans fucking music to his ears.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you like this, Meeks.” Mickey breathed into Randy’s ear, twisting his hand expertly and relishing in the gentle whines flooding out from Randy’s lips. “A leaking fucking mess just for me.”

“Just for you.” Randy echoed Mickey’s words, his hands gripping his hair even tighter as his pace began to steadily increase.

The feeling of his rough hand gliding up and down his shaft, his messy cock aching and throbbing, it was nothing like he’d had before. His first and only time with Karen Kolcheck back in Woodsboro seemed pretty much laughable compared to how Mickey was making him feel right now with just his hand. Randy knew he was close, his balls were aching, and he could feel himself ready to unload all over Mickey’s stomach, but he didn’t want to. He knew that once he did, it would be over.

Fuck, he didn’t want this to be over.

“You gonna cum for me, Randy?” Mickey asked. Randy let out a soft whine, flinching in effort to avoid doing just that.

“N-no.” He groaned out, the grip on Mickey’s hair tightening.

Mickey let out a breathy laugh, his hand slowing to a gentle pump. “Why not?” He asked.

Randy didn’t answer, his head falling forward, so his forehead pressed against Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey wasn’t having that. He pulled his hand away from Randy’s sloppy cock, knocking his arms out of the way so he could pull Randy’s head back before gripping his chin between his long fingers.

“Why not?” He asked again, his tone a little harder.

“Because I don’t want it to be done.” Randy blurted out. He felt Mickey cock twitch against his from the confines of his sweats and briefs and felt an overwhelming desire to touch him too. Mickey looked at the hungry expression on Randy’s face and smiled affectionately, releasing Randy’s jaw and sliding his hand into his hair.

“Okay, on your knees then.”

Before the words were completely out of Mickey’s mouth, Randy was on his knees, pulling down Mickey’s remaining clothes.

Randy had only seen his own dick and dicks in porn. No pornstar cock would ever compare to Mickey’s. The only word that came to mind was mouthwatering.

After Mickey spent a little time talking Randy through it, Randy took him greedily into his mouth, moaning at how delicious he tasted, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Fuckkkkk.” Mickey groaned, his head tipping back and one hand still resting on the top of his head. He glanced at the camera, picking it up and focusing it down on the adorable sight before him; Randy greedily sucking his cock as if his life fucking depended on it. Randy made a sound of disapproval at the sight of the camera, but Mickey shook his head. “Thought you might want to watch this back when you fuck yourself thinking about me.”

A brief thought of how the fuck does he know I do that? Crossed his mind for the briefest of moments before he forgot all about it, focusing on the feeling of Mickey’s thick, heavy cock in his mouth. He bobbed his head obediently, feeling Mickey begin to thrust harder, pushing his way down Randy’s throat.

“Yeah, good boy. Look up into the camera with my cock in your mouth, Meeks.” Mickey instructed, voice heavy and dripping with arousal. Randy did just that, feeling Mickey begin to twitch in his mouth as soon as he did. “Mm. You wanna get off?” He asked, smiling at Randy’s muffled yes. “Go on.”

Randy quickly took his own sensitive cock into his hand, realizing quickly his pre-cum had dropped onto Mickey’s hardwood floor. Mickey angled the camera, zooming in on the sight and watching it intently, his hips snapping against Randy’s face urgently.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Mickey grunted, halting his movement. Randy’s nose pressed against Mickey’s skin for a moment, beginning to splutter slightly as Mickey began to release hot ribbons of white down his throat, before pulling back to fill up Randy’s mouth.

The delicious taste, along with Mickey’s gorgeous expression, his head back and his chest heaving as he came, sent Randy into a convulsing mess, cumming all over his own hand, stomach and the ground beneath him. Mickey pulled out of his mouth quickly, relishing in the sound of Randy’s gasping moans as he finished.

It was silent between them for a moment, Randy trembling on his knees, not looking Mickey in the eyes. Mickey still had the camera rolling, looking fondly into the small window of it, before he glanced down at Randy pointedly.

“You made a mess, Meeks.”

Randy let out a sigh, relieved at the broken silence, before he asked, “What?”

Mickey nodded down beneath him at the cum staining the floor. Randy blushed, moving to shakily to stand up, only to be stopped by Mickey’s large, grounding hand.

“Clean it up.”

“I- I was going to. Was gonna get some paper towels and-“

“No, Randy.” Mickey cut him off, the cheeky smile back on his face as he knelt down in front of him. Mickey’s finger dipped into the impressive pool of white, before he raised it to his own mouth and licked it. Randy watched intently, his once softened cock twitching at the sight. Fuck.

“On your hands and knees-“ Mickey stopped, moving the camera and angling it down at the mess. “And clean. It. Up.”

Randy stared at Mickey for a moment, before nodding his head, and doing exactly what he was told.

He got on his hands and knees, dipping his head down, and began to lap up his own cum from the hardwood floor. Mickey watched through the camera, teeth sinking into his bottom lip at the sight.

“Good boy, Meeks.”

#mickey and randy my darlings #no one can tell me they didn’t canonically fuck at least once #I love them #this was ridiculously fun #hope you all enjoy! #scream #mickey altieri #randy meeks #mickey altieri and randy meeks #m x m #mickey altieri smut #randy meeks smut #mickey and randy smut #scream smut

[just-a-strange-boy]

riding high

find part one here

Initially you hadn't wanted to go to this silly gala with Stephen. After turning out it hasn't been such a bad idea to join him after all, you find yourself being rewarded greatly.

Pairing: Surgeon!Stephen Strange x Male Reader

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), rough sex, semi-public (kind of), unprotected, mentions of social anxiety

A/N: we follow stephen and you, his surgical assistant, figuring out the logistics of fucking in a lamborghini huracan (which is harder than you might think)

"Come to that gala with me", Strange requested, both of you fresh out of an unspectacular surgery, shedding the contaminated layers of hospital wear into the nearby laundry bin, in desperate need of slipping into a pair of new scrubs.

Today wasn't the first time he approached you about it.

He had been nagging you about this for a while now – ever since he had first received the invitation to said event weeks ago – and still wasn't letting it rest, even though you had repeatedly told him off, suggesting that he should just ask Christine instead of you. It wouldn't be an issue if he'd just take her. She'd probably even agree to it, because she was your mutual friend.

But Stephen wouldn't let it go, his stubbornness and persistence reaching heights you hadn't expected from him, unwavering in his relentless insistence, unable to accept your 'No', refusing to ask Christine or anyone that wasn't you.

He just wouldn't stop asking, relying on the same explanation every time: you were the only one he wanted to go with.

So there you were again, with the same dilemma and question between you as before.

Only because you denied his offer times and times again, didn't mean you did not want to go. You would have loved to go with the surgeon. It was flattering that he was inviting you along, that he did not want to choose anyone that wasn't you, that he was so insistent on it. It was Stephen's way of showing you that you were important to him, even if it was beginning to be a little obnoxious.

Though he was admittedly better at this whole dating thing than you would have thought.

Stephen was keen on having date nights, when you both could make the time, and even when your schedules were all over the place, obnoxiously full, he tried to shove in a moment for you, may it just be a trip to the vending machines of the ER late at night or going for a coffee in the cafeteria.

The few times you'd managed to go out together, Stephen was unafraid of displaying affection publicly, holding your hand every now and then. He didn't keep your status secretive, unashamed that he was dating a surgical assistant. Whenever staff members, relatives of patients or even patients themselves made advances on him, Stephen was making it clear he was unavailable.

On top of that, you were having amazing sex, at home and a little more often than allowed at the hospital. You were certain at least ten people from the staff had almost had the pleasure of walking in on you, while two of your closer colleagues most definitely had found you in promising positions. There hadn't been a complaint filed to the board yet and you wanted to keep it that way, but something was just so thrilling about abusing Stephen's office, the locker rooms or like that one time, the operating table itself.

But regardless of how unashamed both Stephen and you were admitting to your relationship status, regardless how much you would have liked to go with him, you kept denying the invitation for a very specific reason.

You were scared.

It was an entirely different thing to be seen with Doctor Stephen Strange in the public eye at an event of such importance. A proper gala, with important figures present, people that were either significant in the medical world or held high positions all around the country, people that earned a lot of money and spent their resources on expensive shit, more people on the same level as Stephen.

There would be reporters, cameras – and no doubt a shit-ton of people that would judge a renowned surgeon for not showing up with a pretty lady on his arm but with someone like you, who was in fact nothing like a pretty lady. Because you were ordinary, and on top of that a man.

You didn't even know why you cared about Stephen's reputation so much all of the sudden, but you were afraid of putting shame to his name, to his status, to his face.

"You know I can't go with you", you sighed, preparing to give him the usual response, "I know it's tomorrow night already and chances of getting someone else to join you now will be... relatively low, that's why I've told you to ask anyone but me. I know it's important for you to be there, but you cannot take me there as your date. It would be wrong for me to be there. As I have told you at least ten times."

“I don't understand why you don't wanna come", Stephen spoke, adding your name so softly like hearing it alone was enough to convince you, and he sounded a little more desperate than before. Still not giving up though. "It'll be nice. Come on. I'll owe you."

"Because, Stephen, they will probably just judge me for being there. I mean, showing up with you? Infamous, handsome, top neurosurgeon Stephen Strange. What did I do to possibly deserve being seen with you?", you responded with a huff, certain that everyone at that gala would just look upon you with a frown – you were neither a wealthy doctor nor a flashy person suited for the public eye, just a plain surgical assistant, someone who didn't fit in with the high society.

Of course, some of your fear stemmed from being gay too. You doubted most people even knew that Stephen Strange was bisexual, let alone that he was actively pursuing something with a younger man.

What if that would land in some trashy magazine? You would rather not turn into a hot topic for a newspaper article, and sure as hell did not want to be the reason for outing Stephen publicly.

"Who cares about what they think? I want you there and that's good enough", the doctor spoke, the look on his face oddly soft, taking a closer step to you as he noticed your self-consciousness gnawing on you, "We'll drive there, exchange some pleasantries, listen to the speeches. I'll give my speech, we'll have dinner, then some people will probably introduce their research projects, and the rest will be social mingling, which is however optional. We can leave at any point by then."

"What if you'll be... what if people will talk about you negatively? Me being there with you? I'm not exactly some pretty girl to show off", you asked, wanting to avoid having this conversation, especially now that Stephen was being even more stubborn, most certainly as you were noticing you were closer to giving in.

The only saving grace was that you would have to get going in a bit to prepare the room and tools for the next surgery.

"Don't tell me you've started caring about my reputation now", Stephen scoffed, grabbing you by the waist to pull you in, placing a soft kiss to your forehead, "It doesn't matter, idiot. I want you there and I can come with whoever I fucking want. I don't care what anyone else thinks. I'll be happy to show you off, because I bet you look great in a suit and I can count myself lucky for being accompanied by someone who truly sees me for me.”

"Great, you're making me all soft again", you sighed, clearly affected by the sweet words Stephen was feeding him right now, leaning into his embrace to lay your head against his shoulder, "Even if I'm gonna go with you, how am I even supposed to get a suit until tomorrow?"

"Does that mean you'll come?", Stephen murmured, pressing his face into your hair. You couldn't ignore the sudden glee radiating from him at your last comment and felt him relax his hold around you.

"Yeah, fine. I'll join you", you agreed hesitantly, holding onto the man for a moment longer. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad as long as Stephen was with you. It was assuring to know he didn't mind showing you off, didn't mind being seen with another man, didn't care so much about others opinions. Nothing else seemed to matter, if it just meant he could be there with you.

He'd been holding onto this request for so long now and had never stopped trying (mostly also because his ego wouldn't accept defeat), that you figured you could do him the favor. You were interested in going with him after all and even though there were things you were worried about, Stephen at your side would give you the assurance and comfort you needed.

"Then let me worry about getting you a suit", the doctor assured you.

Once he parted from you, you saw the broad smile on Stephen's face and decided it had been a good decision to agree after all.

×

It will be fine, was the mantra you kept repeating inside of your head.

Usually you would have felt insecure about showing up anywhere in a suit, an expensive one at that (it really had cost a fortune, even though not specifically tailored to your body), but Stephen had made it his personal mission to point out how handsome you looked ever since seeing you in it for the first time.

You almost dared to believe him.

Though Christine had said so too while she had helped you getting ready for the big occasion, like the good friend she was. Initially, she had been surprised by your sudden change of heart, now that you had agreed to join Stephen as a plus one to the gala after refusing him again and again. But then she had just expressed how genuinely happy she was about you jumping over your own shadow, a certain excitement sticking to her.

You honestly weren't sure who she was truly happier for. You, for having stepped out of your shell and decided to go with the surgeon? Or for Stephen, being able to go with the one person he had wanted to join him from the very beginning?

Or perhaps she was just happy for herself, not having to endure both of her insufferable friends talking about this subject anymore.

Maybe she'd been right too. Everything would be fine.

So far, it was – you looked quite presentable in your suit and were just now casually chatting with Stephen as the man sped over the highway leading upstate.

Yet there was this tiny bit of anxiety you couldn't seem to get rid of, probably feeling a lot more nervous than the surgeon, which made him feel ridiculous all the same.

Stephen would have had a far better reason for being nervous (though not seeming fazed in the slightest), since he was supposed to give a speech this evening – all you had to do was smile, be a supportive partner, and not crumble under the amount of skeptical looks crossing your way. Oh, and maybe not embarrass yourself or him publicly.

"It will be fine", Stephen tried to reassure you once more, noticing you nervously shifting in your seat, and placed his right hand on your thigh, eyes fixed on the road. He was trying to keep you grounded with his touch, knowing that while you had nerves of steel in the OR, you could get a bit anxious outside of work for the most ridiculous reasons. "You know I will read anyone to filth who dares to speak a wrong word or shares a dirty look."

"Oh, aren't you just my knight in shining armor", you spoke, attempting to make a joke in order to seem a little more careless about the situation, though you couldn't play your own nervousness down entirely. You couldn't fool him at least.

Stephen kept his hand placed on your thigh, gently caressing it for a moment, and decelerated the car, driving a little slower than he had probably been planning to, allowing the two of you a bit more time in the safe space of the car.

You were still busy trying to convince yourself that it would be fine as Stephen pulled into the parking lot of the convention center.

The sheer amount of cars already present, but especially the flock of people waiting upfront at the entrance, made you want to turn back home immediately. There was a part of you that was wanting to lock yourself inside of the car and wait out the event.

But you didn't dare to disappoint him now, you wanted to do this for him, and let yourself be helped out of the car by him, instead of bolting the doors shut when you good. Stephen offered you his arm like a true gentleman, giving you another assuring and gentle smile. Not flashy, like he would no doubt give the cameras later. Genuine. Sweet. The type that meant to say Don't worry, I got you.

The anxiety followed you all the way towards the entrance, where the two of you merged with other groups of people waiting to get inside, meaning the first few were going to catch a look and pictures were going to be taken and...

It honestly was a mystery to you how Stephen's presence alone enabled you to stay sane enough to go through all of it without freaking out entirely, but it did.

If people talked, they luckily did so out of earshot. If they looked funnily at you, you didn't really notice, because instead of nervously looking around, you tried to keep your gaze fixed on Stephen. If they were judging your person, they were going to do so anyways and he had been right to tell you that it was something that simply shouldn't concern you.

Stephen wanted you here and was more than proud to show you off.

It all went over smoother than you had expected and you began warming up to the situation, once inside. Stephen went on to introduced you – as his partner, no less – to some important people here, people he was more or less acquainted with, people he had worked or collaborated with. They seemed ecstatic he had showed up and even more so curious who he had brought with him.

The most of them took well to you, seemingly not all too biased when it came to your person, and even though there were strange looks once in a while, the majority of people you talked to were delighted about the fact that the OR wasn't only a place to save lives but apparently also served as a place to get to know your potential partners.

There was not one disapproving word spoken to you.

You had been seated at a table with rather nice guests and listening to the speeches, covering a wide expense of medical subjects that even you found pretty interesting, kept your mind busy for the most part, blowing the anxiety away altogether.

Only struck by nervousness again when it was Stephen's time to get on stage, more so because you were nervous for him, soon the irking feeling of discomfort was replaced by something else, something far better.

You found yourself immensely proud, once Stephen got up to do his part. How enamored you were with him, making his way through the crowd, his graceful movements, looking so damn handsome in his suit, the light hitting him just right. How exhilarated you were, knowing he had been so keen on having you here, because your support was meaningful to him.

There was no need to be nervous for him. You shouldn't have been surprised by the way he dominated the stage – Stephen had guts and he loved to talk (about himself as much as neurosurgery, no doubt) and didn't seem intimidated by the mass of people at all. He landed a well-rehearsed speech with an impressive amount of applause, looking all relieved, and more so pleased with himself, once returning to the table.

"You were great", you commended him, beaming at him with a smile.

"Thank you for being here with me", Stephen just said after sitting down, leaning over for a quick kiss, "Really. I mean it."

And you were more than lucky to hear that. Had you known your presence was going to be so impacting, that it would be as calm and nice at this, that all your worries had been misplaced (though not unjustified), maybe you were wrong to deny his request in the first place.

Perhaps you could even get used to a life like this, showing up with Doctor Stephen Strange to all kinds of events, because you were proud to be with him as much as he was happy to have you by his side.

Dinner was a fairly pleasant occasion too, a distraction preventing you to fawn and moon over Stephen all evening long – though honestly, who could have blamed you? You chatted quite a bit with your table neighbors as Stephen kept inviting you back into the conversation, not wanting you to feel left out, although you would have not minded to not participate.

While Stephen didn't drink anything alcoholic (the complimentary glass of champagne didn't really count), you weren't so abstinent, having been offered generous amounts of alcohol during the duration of the evening, downing at least three glasses of wine and a cocktail before deciding to stop when you felt yourself positively buzzed.

You were warm, almost getting a little too heated, not just thanks to the alcoholic beverages, but due to Stephen's hand managing to find your thigh under the table, squeezing it lightly, possibly meant as an innocent reassurance that he was still here and it was still alright. Though you definitely couldn't ignore the fact something else entirely was awakened within you as his touch burned into your leg.

Needless to say, by the time doctors and medical students from all over the country started to introduce their research projects on stage, you were more than a little turned on, downright horny. It was harder and harder for you to keep listening with a mindful ear, while Stephen for his part was enjoying himself and seemed interested, though his hand was being busy otherwise.

Your eyes glanced more often over to him than to the stage, your mind focusing more on the touch than on the content that was presented. While it might have been interesting and worth listening to, all that you were concerned about was to keep yourself contained and not lose any composure.

As much as feeling each other up in public spaces, just for the sake of it being considered forbidden, gave you a thrill, it was okay when Stephen did so at the hospital, but not here. Not in the presence all those people, at an event like this.

You weren't even sure whether Stephen was teasing on purpose, stroking your thigh, fingers kneading the muscle, tracing the inseam of your trousers, or simply wanted to accomplish that you were relaxing more.

Because you definitely were far from relaxing right now. The lingering touch made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, you tried to play down your arousal by focusing on anything but Stephen's hand on you and desperately hoped your cock wouldn't decide to embarrass you publicly all of the sudden.

"Everything alright?", Stephen muttered under your breath when he noticed the agitated squirming. He sounded seriously concerned, not like he had been planning on teasing or arousing you for that matter. God, he was entirely oblivious.

"Are you feeling unwell? Do you wanna go home?"

You leaned towards him to whisper into his ear, making sure to talk as quietly as you could, seeming like you didn't want to disturb the others listening to the speech, when you really just wanted to word your current desire.

"I don't know if we will get that far, because I really need you to fuck me."

Clearly you had caught Stephen a little off guard with that comment, who was nervously looking around instantly, hoping that no one had heard or guessed.

The surgeon cleared his throat, before replying calmly, "Then I think we should leave after that presentation.”

And you sure did, the two of you taking your leave quicker than anyone could really notice, excusing yourself to your table neighbors, before hurrying out of the main hall, practically rushing past the staff of this place, the photographers and journalists still looming outside – though luckily, having seen no flashes meant that no pictures had been taken. That sure would have made quite the subject.

He got you both settled in the car in a hurry, revving the engine, before pulling out of the parking lot and starting to speed off instantly. You quickly noticed that you weren't taking the same route you had used earlier, when Stephen didn't direct the car onto the highway back to New York.

"Are you gonna make the route extra long in order to tease me?", you wondered.

"No, it won't be much longer", the surgeon assured you, checking side and rear mirrors, all while seemingly searching for something off road.

"Then why aren't we heading home?", you asked, oddly suspicious.

If you hadn't known any better, you might have feared Stephen was going to dispose of you somewhere along the way in the middle of the night. Why else would he choose an abandoned road?

But then the man's hand landed on your thigh again, his long and skilled fingers tracing the inner side, down to the bend of the knee and up to your crotch, all while keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

"Because you said we're not going to get as far as home and I'm only taking you by word", he chuckled, only gently pressing his hand to where your cock stirred in your trousers, placing a turn signal as he steered the car into another path off-road, where seemingly, in the middle of the night, nothing and no one would disturb the two of you.

Parking his car on the gravelly path you had ended up on, far off the road where other cars might still pass at that time of night, you knew exactly what he was proposing. He was planning to fuck you out here, in his car, right now.

It wasn't something you had ever done before, but by the way your heart consequently hammered and your groin was practically on fire, you sure weren't going to pass on that opportunity.

Unbuckling your seat belts all too quickly, you met over the middle console, searching for each others mouths and finding what you both sought as your lips clashed together. Kissing Stephen always meant wanting more and more. He was addictive, everything from the soft curve of his lips to his eager tongue slipping into your mouth, the bruise of his bite and the fact that he had a tendency to smirk while kissing you hard.

However getting to the point of sex appeared a little difficult than initially thought.

While the Huracán Stephen drove was a wonderfully sleek car (and definitely a match to Stephen's ego), it was set very low and not spacious by any means. Even just trying to climb onto Stephen's lap would have been hard, let alone riding him without constantly banging your head on the car's ceiling.

Sucking him off would have been convenient and was definitely something you would have been tempted to do any other day, but today it was just not enough.

You needed to have him inside of you.

Perhaps Stephen could have just bent you over the hood. It wasn't too cold outside, but the idea still didn't sound particularly comfortable. There was no backseat area and the front seats wouldn't shift back far enough without you having to twist and turn into uncomfortable positions to get Stephen's cock inside of you.

No matter how desperate you were for him at this moment, you at least wanted it to be comfortable enough to sink into the pleasure completely and not worry about tearing a muscle.

In conclusion, it might have been a pretty car, but it was terribly inconvenient for having sex and you spend minutes trying to figure it out together, laughing at the ridiculousness of your combined desperation to find a suitable position.

Shifting back and forth in a hurry, trying this and that, clawing at each other with need, your mouths slotting together whenever they could, hurrying out of the car, rounding it, never quite satisfied with the way things were, pressed up to the sleek black car as Stephen kept palming you through your pants, hands opening belts and buttons, revealing more and more skin, then turning and shoving and bending and...

You ended up in a somewhat promising position, taking up most space of the interior, as you knelt on your seat, hands supporting yourself on the driver's seat, bent over the middle console and presenting your ass quite perfectly to Stephen behind you.

Glad you had stripped off pants and underwear somewhere in between, the soft breeze from outside brushed the bare skin of your backside, intensifying the shudder of your need as your partner sure took his time to drive you crazy with lust.

A little more than desperate, hanging over the car's middle console, you pressed your ass back against Stephen, begging to be finally given some release after waiting and aching, while the man was already two fingers in, opening him up with precise movements, because... it was simply not enough.

Your cock was weeping, so achingly hard, asking to be touched to the point where you even reached for it yourself, tending it with long and gentle strokes, all while Stephen took his time preparing you well.

There was no need for conversation.

Your pure desire didn't require words, Stephen knew exactly how to touch you, and wiggling your ass into your lover's touch was a sign that clearly indicated how ready you were for him to fuck you. The occasional grunt and moan was all there was slipping past your lips, the soft puffs of labored breath, running faster with excitement.

Spit and precum smeared over your hole, you finally felt his fingers replaced by the thick tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, drawing out the moment in anticipation to the point he had you whining with his relentless teasing and toying, pushing back into him hard, so Stephen would have no other choice than to give in and sheath himself inside of you.

Being stretched by his cock ached a little at first, but you always managed to adjust, not minding the bit of the initial burn as he filled you up. On the contrary, you craved it, your whole body longing to feel him, here and now and even afterwards.

And god, fucking finally, you were allowed the familiar sensation. Any longer and you would have lost yourself to madness, though the rush of lust overcoming wasn't driving you insane any less.

Stephen allowed you to take a moment, ever so considerate, hands gently trailing along your hips, fingers grazing over the bare skin, an appreciative hum from him that sent a smile to your face – he was enjoying your sudden neediness, the spontaneous sexual adventure of fucking in his car, in the middle of nowhere, both of you looking forward to the satisfaction he was about to bring, fulfilling his own urge to claim you completely.

You liked getting nasty and filthy with Stephen, loved nothing more than being railed by the man all the way to next Sunday, whenever, wherever, might it be in every room of your apartments, in every corner at hospital or like today, outside.

The sex you had was the perfect way to settle arguments, make bad days better and the good days absolutely fantastic.

Though of course, you also found yourself reminded of the connection you two had, not just the physical one. Sure, you loved to have him shove you around, to press you into every available surface and fuck you like you belonged to him only.

But especially the random displays of Stephen's gentleness was the thing that made your heart clench and you figured it might just be love.

Rocking back into him, an evident sign that you were ready to take him in fully and needed more, Stephen got the right drift, the grip on your hips tightening as he began to move. His thrusts were deep at first, slow strokes, not painfully sharp, though more than enough to send waves of pleasure through your body with every single push inside of you.

It didn't even take long, until he had you turned into a moaning mess, clutching onto the seat, unashamed to let the dark and quiet of the night be witness to your lovemaking, letting him hear you, feel you, use you.

If that wasn't the best reward for accompanying Stephen tonight, you didn't know what would be. You didn't care about anything else anymore, no more insecurities, no more of other people's stupid opinions.

All you asked for was for him to keep on fucking you.

The switch up of rhythms caught you by surprise, one moment long and deep thrusts, the next more erratic thrusting, quicker but not as deep, up until the point where he was ferociously fucking you again, every slam of his hips into yours making you jolt and groan.

You continued stroking yourself in time with the man's thrusts, knowing you were not likely lasting that much longer since Stephen had begun hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again, and were starting to feel yourself tremble with pleasure.

This was only heightened as you noticed the stutter of Stephen's hips, losing any sense of rhythm entirely, losing himself in his thrusts and chasing his own pleasure, using you more than treating you, plowing into you ruthlessly, until he spilled inside of you, painting your insides with a hot and heavy load, even before you could topple over the edge.

Good lord, you counted yourself very lucky for having it that way around – because hearing your partner let out the sweetest moans, letting him ride out his orgasm in a frenzy while you took up all of his cum like a good boy, was the hottest thing. You let yourself fully enjoy the sensation, until you weren't able to hold out any longer.

You came just as hard, grip tight around your cock, clenching around Stephen's member still buried deep inside of you, an earth shattering orgasm hitting you as you felt your own cum shoot all over your hand, no doubt dripping on these sinfully expensive leather car seats as well, but you seriously couldn't find yourself to mind.

Let Stephen worry about it later.

Maybe he'd even punish you for ruining the expensive material and god, wouldn't you just love it? Just the idea of him, demanding you to kneel on the ground, defiled and cockdrunk, as he grabs you by the hair and forces you to eat your cum off his leather seats, licking clean every last spot, sent you into another spiral of lust.

Being with Stephen made you so unashamed. You enjoyed how capable this man was of utterly ruining you. You were glad to be his slut, getting fucked in an expensive car, wearing an expensive suit, after just having been at an important public gala as his date. All prim and proper, now wrecked and ruined and loving every bit of it.

Because you sure did adore it, being like this with Stephen, and would have him anywhere, anyplace, anytime, any way – hopefully for the rest of your lives.

#k writes #doctor strange #stephen strange #stephen strange x male reader #stephen strange x reader #surgeon strange #doctor strange smut #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #doctor strange 2016 #doctor stephen strange #x male reader #marvel fanfiction #m x m

[viktheviking1]

Y'all ever since abandoning my homophobic and transphobic ways, (very self phobic and toxic to others too ew)

Shipping has become so much more fun!

I feel like the character romance potential has grown infinitely!

Did she just make flirty eyes with her bridesmaid? Must be secretly a lesbian!

Is he confiding in his buddy after his girlfriend left him, and finding comfort and companionship? That's totally Bi!

Did she make a snarky comment about how relationships are nothing but trouble and she just doesn't see the appeal? She's aroace and if she doesn't end up happily alone by the end of the series

I will be very upset!

And gender just makes it even more fun! No longer do I headcanon one of the characters to become female so they can be in a hetero relationship. Now I headcanon that one of the characters in a hetero couple go through a gender change with support from her girlfriend, and live their days as a lesbian couple!

Did they suggest that gender roles are stupid and doesn't like either option? Get that gender non-conforming king/queen a crown!

The possibilities are endless! Every ship is a crack ship! And every ship is colorful!!!!

#txt post #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtqia+ #lgbtq+ #lgbt+ #queer stuff #queer community #f x f #m x m #gay ships #gay shit #could be gayer #which is gayer #so gay for them #so gay for her #so gay #so gay omg #gay life #gay love #queer lit #queer love #queer liberation #queer life #accidental ally #queer ally #trans stuff #queer ships #queer shit

[darkdoverpseeker]

Hi!!! 🕺🕺🕺

Looking for people interested in writing poly rps! I’m 23, write on discord, and am looking for ocxoc for this! Mainly looking for fxfxfxf or mxmxmxm, trans characters/nonbinary are welcomed too! Looking for plot and smut, mainly wanna focus on their relationship! I write a couple paragraphs for each character (if we’re both playing 2/4 of them) and expect the same from my partner tho I’m not super strict on that! I’m looking for either poly groups of 3 or 4! Kinks can be discussed in dms but I’m super kink friendly! I’m looking for modern or ABO for this plot but also am interested in crime or supernatural based plots. Also for this I’d like if we either played a top and bottom each or switches so it’s all even! Some tropes I love are height/size differences and age gaps! We can discuss a lot more in dms as well!

like if interested !

#fandomless rp #oc x oc #m x m #f x f #poly rp #omegaverse rp #spicy #1x1 rp #rp #roleplay #18+

[justlulu]

Okay but Oberyn would totally convince Javi to get fucked by a man (obviously himself), because why would he be an only women whore when he could double the fun?

#game of thrones #narcos #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #javier peña #javi pena #crossover #game of thrones smut #narcos smut #m x m #javier pena smut #oberyn martell smut #fanfiction #fanfic #tv series #imagines #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal series

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find Part 2

I was blown away by the response to something I banged out without much thought.! I've received several asks about continuing this so here is part two! Thank you everyone!

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

Part one here

CW: named characters (juggling two unnamed male characters pronoun wise was just a huge headache)

“Salt?”

Ben stared at his roommate from across their tiny kitchen table. Two bowls of soup lay before each of them, accompanied by folded napkins and spoons and glasses of water. The formality instantly raised his hackles. Whatever happened to eating on the couch while they watched stupid youtube prank videos?

Fear and anger twisted and blended into each other until he didn’t know what was responsible for the maelstrom in his chest that the hot shower did nothing to calm down.

“How long?” he said instead.

It was the question that plagued him the most. Did this start before they met? Had Ben lived with a stranger in a mask this whole time? Or did it start later? Did something horrible happen to make Adam desperate enough to try villainy and could Ben have prevented it?

“How long has salt been around?” Adam asked blithely. “I don’t know. Probably at least a thousand years or more. Did the Romans use salt? You’re the history nerd, not me.”

“Don’t mock me,” Ben snapped. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Do you really want to know?”

What fucking kind of question was that? But Adam tilted his head to the side, the look in his eyes deadly serious.

“Because if I tell you,” he continued, “that could implicate you. Once you know, you can’t un-know. And Heroes have ways of making you talk. There’s no way they’d believe you didn’t help me all this time.”

So consumed with the fear of Adam himself, Ben never thought to be concerned with anyone else. Now a new fear dug its roots into him.

“There’s no way they’d believe it now,” he said, heart thudding again.

“They would if you were genuinely clueless.”

Or if I turned you in Ben thought. That was the other thought that had plagued him the last few days.

Now that he knew, what was he supposed to do about it?

“But I don’t intend on you talking to anyone about this,” Adam added.

Again, Ben’s hackles raised at the certainty in Adam’s voice. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“How would you stop me?”

He didn’t mean it as a taunt. He knew Adam was dangerous, but not how. Did Adam have powers or weapons? What plans did he have for Ben?

“You don’t want the answer to that question either,” Adam replied softly. “But know that I would, if I had to. I’m capable of anything when I know it’s my best option.”

The lump was back in Ben’s throat, making it hard to swallow. He could stomach the lying, even understand it a little. How do you tell your roommate that you’re the one behind all the recent robberies and arson?

 And Ben could handle the crimes, for the most part. This city ate people alive and anyone not obscenely wealthy had one bad accident standing between themselves and homelessness.  So far Adam’s crew had only targeted places  with large payouts. They took hostages when necessary but had no casualties so far.

But the threats? The knife at his throat? The lack of hesitation before launching to dark promises of violence hurt Ben the most. Even without his stupid crush, they had become friends the last three years. Their lives had become enmeshed with each other’s in a domestic intimacy that went beyond two people who simply shared a space.

 Adam knew his allergies and what restaurants to avoid because of it. He knew Ben’s parents and siblings. He knew Ben’s failed dreams and useless history degree. They shared shampoo and lonely holiday dinners and a Netflix account.

Ben thought he knew Adam the same way. But now all that had unraveled, and though he never harbored the hope that Adam could return his affections, seeing how easily Adam could threaten his life as if Ben never meant anything to him . . .

The knife would hurt less.

“What . . .” Ben swallowed again, his voice coming out choked. “What do you want me to do? I can move out. Leave the city.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “Leave? You can’t leave!”

 Hope rose ever so slightly without Ben’s permission. But when had it ever listened in the first place?

“I can’t afford this apartment without you.”

And there it went, dashed on the rocks.

“Haven’t you been . . .earning extra income,” Ben asked hesitantly.

“Not enough to cover your portion of everything for more than a month or two. Besides . . .I only get a small percentage of the cut. I need you.”

Boy, would Ben have loved to hear that in literally any other circumstance.

“But I’m a liability now,” he protested.

“Are you?”

Adam got a certain look in his eye anytime they played strategy games. It didn’t matter what kind — Among Us, Monopoly, chess, Street Fighter. His mind always worked five steps ahead, thinking of contingency plans for contingency plans, and Ben knew when that glint showed up in Adam’s eye, he was about to lose. That he had lost long before he even realized it.

“Here’s the way I see it.” Adam leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “You hate living with your parents and you don’t want to leave the city. I can’t leave because I’m . . .in the middle of things. If either of us were to move out, we’d both have to find another roommate and the odds of us finding people that work as well with us as we do with each other is impossible. We would both be miserable.”

“You think I would be more miserable with a person who didn’t threaten me with a knife?” Ben asked.

And the answer to that question was yes, but Adam didn’t have to know that.

“What if they never turn the light on when they piss at night and get it all over the toilet?” Adam countered. “What if they eat the last of all your snacks or move their obnoxious girlfriend in or never empty the dishwasher before sticking their dirty dishes in?”

Objectively speaking, Ben would rather have a knife to his throat one time than deal with any of those on a constant basis.

“We know how to live with each other. We’ve developed a routine that has worked for years. This doesn’t have to change anything. It’s not like I haven’t been doing this for months while you had no clue anyway.”

“You will never trust me not to snitch,” said Ben.

“If I’m in jail, then how are you going to still live here with any kind of sanity? Better yet — if I’m thrown in prison because you ran your mouth, how are you going to be safe from retaliation from my boss or crew members? How are you going to avoid your own prison sentence for being an accessory? Is it worth your life to put me away?”

That last question hit him hard. He knew it was cowardly and stupid beyond measure, but he couldn’t bear the thought of blowing up the little life he’d carved for himself here. It didn’t amount to much, especially to his parents, but he loved it all the same.

“No,” he told Adam softly. “It’s not worth it.”

He loved his life and he loved Adam and he loved his life because of Adam and it all fed into each other like one writhing ouroboros.

Adam leaned back again, looking devastatingly smug. “I didn’t think so.”

“So . . .what now?” Ben bit at his lower lip, the nervous tell that always gave him away in poker.  “What do you want me to do?”

“Eat your soup for starters.” Adam nodded at the bowl in front of Ben. “And then give me your phone.”

“My phone? What do you want with my phone?”

Adam leveled a flat look over the table. A look he shot at Ben frequently over the years when Ben made a particularly bad pun. He used to love making Adam give him that look. Now it felt tainted with an undercurrent of a threat.

“Eat your soup, Ben.”

Ben ate his soup. It came out great, almost as if they had just ordered it from the restaurant that inspired it. Adam didn’t cook often, but when it did it outshone Ben’s rudimentary skills. And when they both finished, Ben cleared the table, almost on autopilot, because the person who didn’t cook did the dishes. It was one of the first routines they established.

Usually Ben hated washing dishes which was why he volunteered to make dinner so often. Tonight however it offered a soothing distraction, much more effective than the shower Adam insisted he take. Right up until he felt Adam’s hands on his thighs, sliding up to the edge of his front pocket.

“What are you doing?” he yelped, dropping the spoon with a clatter.

“Looking for your phone.” Adam’s voice pressed right against the shell of Ben’s ear.

His fingers wriggled their way into the pocket, tight in old jeans Ben should have thrown out when he graduated. His breath stuttered in his chest at the intrusion, which lasted only a few seconds, and at the triumphant snort against his ear when Adam slipped the phone out.

He swallowed thickly, throat tight for a very different reason than before. Adam stepped back, the heat of him gone just as suddenly as it appeared. A glance over his shoulder showed Adam leaning against the stove, brow furrowed as he typed in Ben’s password. Because of course Ben had given it to him, thoughtlessly, for vague future emergencies.

“What are you doing to it?” he asked, nerves fluttering in the pit of  his stomach. What if he didn’t get it back?

“Precautionary measures,” Adam replied distractedly. “I’ll give it back in the morning.”

“The morning?”

He spun around, soap dripping from his hands. Adam leveled another flat look at him.

“Do you want this to work or should I get another knife?” he said.

The blood drained from Ben’s face. His eyes darted over to the knife block, sitting just inches away from Adam’s hip. There was no way he could reach it in time — not that it would matter if he could. Clumsy and inexperienced, he’d only hurt himself and save Adam the trouble.

“I just . . .want to know what’s happening,” he said, eyes prickling for the second time that night, goddamn it. “You don’t have to keep threatening me.”

The cognitive dissonance of having Adam so carelessly threaten him, pulling a knife on him — Adam, his best friend that he lived with for years — felt like it could split his head apart. Life was starting to not feel real anymore, like he was in a video game instead. Or a nightmare.

Adam’s expression flickered, looking almost stricken, before Ben turned away. He rinsed what was left of the suds from his hands and then turned the water off.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, even though it was barely dark. “Keep the phone.”

Then he walked straight down the back hall to his bedroom. Adam called his name, almost too softly to hear, but Ben ignored him and shut the door.

He locked it too, for good measure. Not that it mattered. Sleep did not accompany him much that night.

Part Three

#villain x civilian #hero x villain #m x m #my writing #friends to enemies to lovers #writeblr #named characters #a good roommate is hard to find

[ukiyozora]

A Droplet of Midnight Ecstasy

a satosugu fanfic

dragon suguru

dragon rider satoru

#archive of our own #ao3 #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #satosugu #ao3 link #gojo satoru x geto suguru #jjk fanfic #dragon suguru #human satoru #dragon rider #dragon rider satoru #gojo satoru #geto suguru #tw blood #ao3 moodboard #m x m

[biggestxsimps]

Asking Draco Out to the Yule Ball

Draco Malfoy Interactive Fic:

https://www.inklewriter.com/stories/135315

(I know like ALL the ending parts make no sense but this was just to try interactive fics out.)

We haven't been able to write anything else for Christmas yet but I wanted to post this as an apology (I guess) and replacement for the two posts we’re missing. This is my first attempt at an Interactive fic so any feedback is appreciated. 

I also think I could do much better than this so if you have anyone that you want an Interactive fic with, please give me a character and a plot to follow!

- Written by Owner 1

#dracomalfoy #draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x male reader #dracoxreader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x male reader #dracomalfoyxreader #dracomalfoy x reader #male reader #m yn #male yn #malereader #mreader #m reader #gay romance #gay love #m x m #biggestxsimps #harry potter #hp #hp x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter x male reader #hp x male reader

[sbbarnes]

So, I'm proud/happy/terrified/insane to announce that at some point in the not-too-distant future, NineStar Press will be publishing my ~debut novel~, "Heart First". "Heart First" is a m/m romance novel entwined with a cozy mystery set in the heart of the Hudson Valley.

In it, Daniel Rosenbaum, professor and chronic overthinker, falls hard and fast for mechanic Tony D'Angelo. When tragedy strikes and a close friend and fellow professor of Daniel's is murdered, Daniel’s intensifying relationship with Tony is the only way he can find solace from his grief and confusion. But all too soon, the trail of a dead man’s secrets leads Daniel to the same place he’s been seeking comfort: Angel Automotive, the auto repair shop run by Tony’s family. Will following his heart lead Daniel straight into the arms of a killer?

As a little thank you to everyone who's followed me on here and given me courage to pursue writing, here's a little sneak peek of Daniel and Tony:

“Sorry, I’m Tony,” Tony says. “I should probably have led with that.”

Daniel grins. “Hi Tony,” he says. “I’m Daniel, and I’m having trouble with my car.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Tony says. “I happen to be a mechanic.”

“Wow, what are the odds?”

Tony shrugs and gestures to the rows of different-size chains hanging on the wall. “You walk into a set-up like this, it’s an even split: mechanic or sex worker.”

It shocks a laugh out of Daniel. He gets the impression he does not need to worry about homophobia here if Tony’s using respectful language, which is kind of a relief.

“So what’s wrong with your car?”

Daniel winces. “It’s been making this weird noise all morning? Like a kind of irregular clunking?”

“All the time or just when you go over a bump?”

“Um.” Daniel considers. The roads are pretty shitty between Rhinebeck and Lobell College anyways. He didn’t hear it much on the better-paved way into Kingston, but he was also focused on finding the garage and wasn’t really paying attention.

“Your muffler might be loose,” Tony tells him.

“Okay,” Daniel says slowly. “And that’s…bad?”

Tony blinks. “Not a car guy, huh?”

“No,” Daniel says quickly. “Computers guy. Classic literature guy. Fourth season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer guy. Very much not a car guy.” A frown line draws tight on Tony’s forehead. “That’s a really bad season,” he says, which, okay, no one’s perfect.

#heart first #m x m #romance novel #lgbtq books #lgbtq romance #original writing #nine star press #cozy mystery #hudson valley