✧.* PR DISASTER

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂..

Pt2. Captain Rex x F!Reader x Fives What happens when two of the men you admire suddenly begin to show just how interested they are in you, days after your secret diary goes missing? Word Count: 3514 Warnings: Edited but most likely has some grammar mistakes, reader is scared of water. A/N: Ugh this took my poor little brain too long to write but it's here now and I'm very proud <33

The rhythmic buzzing of cicadas paired with the summer heat and sunbathing on the beach was the perfect situation to find yourself in. The negotiations had gone smoothly, and your squad was permitted a spontaneous shore leave.  

Navy blue waves licked lazily at the sand; the water contrastingly cold to the desert-like temperatures of the beach. A cool breeze accompanied the waves, providing a semblance of comfort as it danced with tall, sparse strands of wild grass.

You were seated on a sunbed, just beneath the dark shadow of an umbrella, enjoying the distant echoes of laughter from your squad. It was extremely uncommon for them to enjoy anything but the popular bar, 79s, on their days off. 

You had to bargain with the Jedi council for a solid half an hour before Master Windu had finally given you the nod of approval.

Now, Rex reaped the benefits of shore leave in the form of a nap in the sun. You had made sure to apply a kriff ton of sun cream onto his back and shoulders and neck before he had fallen asleep, a mumbled 'thank you' rolling off the tip of his tongue as his eyes became droopy.

He was severely sleep deprived; always being assigned to Skywalker's side rather than yours. It wasn't that he didn't like Master Skywalker, it's just his missions and plans were always reckless and exhausting, and they ended with a few too many casualties.

Of course, that was always inevitable, and Rex did his best not to linger on the fallen, but it didn't always come to him easily.

But with you, he could rest assured.

With you, he could relax under the warm sun, feel the burning sand, and enjoy the comfort of seaside waves.

His caring nature also ensured that everyone would be provided for whilst he was asleep. Bringing extra sun-cream, a cooler filled to the brim with water bottles and ice lollies, and extra towels as well as beach balls.

Where did he get the credits from?

Well, that was a code that nobody could decipher.

Nevertheless, there you were, relaxing with your beloved Captain. Fives had dragged most of the squad into the waves, insisting that they play volleyball. He had tried to take you too, but your reluctance and uncertainty deterred him. 

He had waved you off with a 'Watch me, General' and a wink before he engaged in a series of games of clumsy water volleyball.

Since they'd undergone ARC Trooper training, it became more uncommon for Echo and Fives to join the 501st on longer campaigns. 

Each time they were reunited, Fives would glance to Echo with a small smile. And now, he was busy wrestling with Hardcase in the shallow parts of the water, laughter escaping the two as Echo hit the ball into the air.

A series of hoorays and pats on the back erupted as the ball hit the water with a splash. 

One score for Echo's team.

You were content with watching from the side lines, if you remained far from the water.

If you still had your diary on you, you'd probably busy yourself writing down the details of this day, so the memory could continue to live on long after the war was over.

But just a few days prior it went missing. You thought you misplaced it and ransacked your entire quarters for it. By the time Rex had knocked on your door, nothing was in its' correct spot. Crumpled bedsheets, swinging closet doors and a chair in the middle of the room as you had searched under your desk.

He wanted to question your panicked state, but as soon as the words 'Mission' and 'Jedi Council' were said, you had put a halt to your search mission.

Rex hadn't tried to ask since.

But now, forced to sit by idly, you were mesmerised by the beauty of none other than Fives himself. He was an ARC Trooper for a reason. His shoulders were broad, his waist slim and his thighs - thick and strong and defined from hours of battle and constant training. His tan skin was wet with salty sweat and even saltier water, and if one were to squint hard enough, they could see droplets running down the side of his neck. 

You often found yourself feeling grateful to Jango Fett for having such fine genes.

As if reading your mind, Fives decided to stretch, and in the process flexed his biceps. How big were they?

Was it just you or did it get twenty degrees hotter?

His head slowly turned, and for a moment, you made eye contact. It was quick, but it was still enough to have your heart racing. A smirk stretched across his lips as he caught sight of your blooming blush.

The moment was cut short as Jesse splashed salty water right in his face. You didn't even get a chance to process the expression on his face, the water having wiped it away, as a surprised yelp escaped Fives.

His hand flew to his face, a guttural groan leaving his lips as he swore. His form was hunched over, his hand wiping at his eye.

Before you knew it, you were up and running towards the water, your sunbed abandoned and dusty in your wake.

"Fives?!"

His attention snapped to you at the sound of your voice.

A gasp left your lips.

His eye. The usually tawny skin surrounding his eye had now gained in darker colour, the area a faint red under the sunlight. Tiny, crimson vessels coated his sclera, reaching with thin, curly tendons towards his iris.

Just what was in that water? Surely it shouldn't be this bad.

Jesse was quick to utter apologies, his mouth cast into a downturned smile.

"Jesse it's fine," Fives insisted, "It's nothing." He continued, rubbing at his eye, the corners of his lips fighting an oncoming scowl. His attention quickly diverted from Jesse, focusing on you just as your feet reached the water.

Your body stuttered, your movements faltering as you glanced down at the waves.

Fives eyed you wearily, noticing the hesitation plastered all over your features.

But then in a flash, the water was already hitting your knees, lazily crashing against your waist as you progressed further. Goosebumps rose all over your body, visible under the blaring sun.

Your stomach twisted into a ball of thread, bile rising in your throat. You squeezed the water bottle and towel in your hands, then proceeded to raise your arms into the air like a cheering fan.

The water was now waist-deep, splashing against your torso and swaying your body back and forth.

Pieces of broken pebbles dug into the balls of your feet, and you had to supress the urge to scream when a floating piece of seaweed tickled at your ankles.

A small wheeze left your lips though, and as you reached Fives and looked up, you noticed the concerned expression on Jesse’s face. Was it for Fives or for you? You couldn’t quite tell.

"Let me see." You requested, placing your busy hands on top of Fives’ shoulders.

"General, I'm fine. It's just a bit of water." Fives winced as he attempted an eyeroll, his hands having wrapped around your wrists.

He failed to notice the brief flash of panic in your eyes or the tension in your jaw as the water splashed onto your chest.

"Just a bit of... Water?" You repeated, swallowing harshly. Tugging your hands from his hold, you looked back up at him. "You look like you’re on some hard spice, Trooper. We’ll get your eye rinsed; we don’t know just how safe the water is."

The men behind him had gone awfully quiet, Fives noted as he silently pleaded with you. His eyes searched yours, his head tilting just the slightest. He wasn't a fan of silence, at least not when it came from his squad mates. And he knew all to well that they were watching like hawks, supressing their laughter.

However, as you stood there looking up at him, he couldn’t help but allow his resolve to crumble just a tiny bit. Who could say no to those sweet puppy eyes? Maybe Echo. Most definitely not Fives.

"Alright, lead the way." He finally let up, heaving a sigh. His eye was stinging a bit too much and it’s not like he minded the extra attention from you.

A snicker left one of the men behind you, and Fives was quick to whip his head around, motioning for them to ‘zip it’.

"General?"

"Fives?" You pursed your lips as you looked up at him, though you didn't last long as your gaze faltered, focusing on your primary target, the sunbed. You wouldn’t be rinsing his eye on the sand; it was too hot, and it felt like walking on lava rocks.

“Is it that bad? Or did you just want me all for yourself?” He asked, nudging your side with his elbow.

Wordlessly, you pushed him onto your sunbed.

“Aggressive, I can work with that.”

“Shut it.” You laughed out, shaking your head.

By that point, Rex had slowly begun waking up, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

A confused hum left his lips as he noticed the state of your clothes. They were wet. Soaking wet, in fact.

"General?" His voice was deeper than normal, more guttural as he was recovering from his nap. "Why are you...Wet?"

“No reason, Captain.” You shrugged your shoulders with a wink.

Rex looked to Fives, giving him a confused look. He sat up in his sunbed, crossing his legs and rubbing his face. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

“First time? First time for what?”

“Oh? Didn’t you know? Our General- “

“Rex.” The way his name rolled off the tip of your tongue had shivers running down his spine. It carried authority and a warning, but the captain was feeling quite daring. His chest puffed up, his whole demeanour changing. This wasn’t your sweet Captain Rex, this was cheeky Cadet Rex, ready to tell the most embarrassing of stories to his brother.

He looked over to Fives, leaning back on his hands.

“Our General over here is terrified of water.” He mused, recalling a specific memory, “On one of our first missions together, we were sent to a swampy planet. The General had us all fooled at first,” He paused, snickering at the displeased expression on your face, “The second a frog swam by, she was screaming and jumping into my arms. Jesse almost blasted the poor thing to bits!”

“Rex!” You exclaimed, throwing the damp rug at him, “You promised not to tell anyone!”

Rex sputtered as the cloth hit him square in the face, launching it into the air in retaliation. “Fives isn’t just anyone! Am I right or am I right?”

Fives looked between the two of you, his brows raised in shock and his eye looking much better.

“General? I’m not just anyone, I’m your favourite ARC Trooper!” He shook his head, pressing a hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you!”

Before you could deny his words or assure him, Rex was already stood by you.

“See General? You hurt his feelings.”

“N- No I didn’t! Fives you are my favourite, just don’t tell anyone, alright?” You pleaded, attempting your best puppy eyes yet. Your attempts faltered as he shook his head, feigning a hurt look.

“I’m not sure, General. You’ll have to make it up to me somehow,” He paused, exchanging mysterious looks with Rex.

“How can I make it up to you?”

“Oh I don’t know.. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” He retorted, pouting at you. Sometimes you forgot just how childish the man could be. You clutched the empty water bottle in your hand, readying it as your next weapon for Rex.

Turning towards him, a fake scowl twisted your expression.

“Don’t look at me like that, General, it’s a waste of a pretty face.” He quickly said, shielding his face as you raised the water bottle. Before it could leave your hands voluntarily though, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“H- Huh?” A gasp left your lips as your body was swiftly rotated and slung over Fives’ shoulder like a sack of rations. That man really harboured more strength in those biceps than you knew. “Fives? What are you doing?”

“I’m having you repay me! Starting now!” He exclaimed and began moving. Rex moved to his side, keeping in step with Fives. Your eyes widened as the sunbed slowly moved further and further, becoming a distant promise of safety and comfort as salty waves made contact with Fives’ feet.

“Fives! L- Let me go! Please!” Your voice was reaching new peaks, rising higher and higher as you began kicking your legs. “I- I can’t swim!” You continued, lightly hitting his back.

His steps began to slow. You held your breath, leaning your head as far from the water as possible.

“You can’t swim? Are you serious or are you bullshitting me, General?” He asked, looking towards Rex, who only gave him a shrug of his shoulders.

“I promise! Please, please, please don’t go any further.” You pleaded once more, looking over to Rex too. Your hands were clasped together, as if you were praying to the two men. He exchanged glances with Fives, wordlessly communicating.

Rex looked over to you, pursing his lips.

“What’s holding y’guys up?” Hardcase shouted, coming closer and closer. “And since when did the General go into water that isn’t a part of her refresher?” He asked, coming to a stop with the three of you.

“Hardcase! You know I can’t swim! Help me, please!” You began kicking your feet again, leaning your head to the side. Your hands pushed against Fives’ back, attempting to heave yourself off.

His grip on you only tightened, and a squeak was forced from your chest as his palm squeezed your thigh.

“The General is a worse swimmer than me! At her level she isn’t even a swimmer, she’s a sinker!” He exclaimed, pointing to himself, Fives’ shoulders shook as a small laugh escaped him. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, setting your skin aflame.

“Fine, I’ll let you go, but only ‘cause I trust Hardcase.” His voice was gruff as he lifted your body, slowly placing you in the water. Goosebumps attacked your skin once more, but this time from the chilling cold that encased you. Looking up, Fives wore a grin that challenged that of the cheshire cat. “You should see yourself, General. You look like an angry loth cat.” He said, pinching your cheek with one hand as the other rested on your waist, his hold firm but gentle, his thumb caressing your waist in small, centred circles.

Swatting his hand away, you looked back down to the water. It rested just below your hips but would venture higher up as the waves moved back and forth.

“D’you wanna go further?” Fives asked, his voice much closer now. Looking around, you noticed that Rex and the others had moved further into the water, where it now reached their chests.

Shaking your head, you turned back to Fives. “I can’t swim, plus I don’t have the same height advantage as you,” You paused, pointing to the others, “I’d be under water where they are now.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, crows’ feet tugging at the outer corners of his eyes. Your hands rose to his chest, steadying yourself as a rogue wave lifted your feet off the ground.

“C’mon, you can sit on my shoulders? I’m sure the others would be more than happy to have you around.” He asked, giving your waist a faint squeeze.

You took a moment to think over his proposition. Sure, being on his shoulders would mean you get to, mostly, stay out of the water. But what if you fell off? You cringed at the thought of water invading your nose, burning your windpipe and choking you from the inside out.

“I- I don’t know…” You paused.

Slowly, you looked up, your breath hitching in your throat. He was already watching you, admiring the tiny expressions you made as you watched his brothers. There was this smitten look resting across his face, as if you were the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen.

His face was so close, his body slightly brushing against your own. His scent invaded your senses, so much so you could almost taste it on the tip of your tongue.

The sunlight reflected in his eyes, outlining the different shapes and shades as if you were looking into a kaleidoscope. His irises had this gorgeous colour of warm honey, and they sparkled like a pair of amber crystals under the soft sunrays.

His skin glowed under the warmth, the rich olive colour becoming tanner the longer he sat outside of his armour, making Fives look healthier and happier. All of the men, in fact. Though their armour kept them safe and sound, you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of them. They were in their zone.

Fives’ hand moved up to your face, his eyes concentrated on a stray piece of hair. The soft smile kept playing at his lips, never fully going but never fully staying.

There was a tension in his jaw, however, as his fingers toyed with your hair. It was like he was holding something back.

He moved the strand away, gently tucking it behind your ear, as best as it would go anyway.

“You’re gorgeous, cyar’ika.” His words came out as a whispered prayer, his gaze so tender and loving as he caressed your cheek with his knuckles.

It was as if your brain short-circuited again; his words dropped on you like a heavy boulder, so sudden, and yet your heartbeat was now racing a thousand miles per hour. Your breath was caught in your throat, and your mouth suddenly felt dry. Was this normal? Were you panicking or were you blushing? Were you going crazy? What was happening?

“F- Fives…” You whispered, your grip on his chest tightening. You never expected those words to come from him, or anyone at all. They weren’t meant for you. But if so, why did they make you so happy? So ecstatic and why did he make you swoon so hard?

He leaned his face a tad closer, just enough for you to feel his breath fanning over your lips.

You could feel his warmth, it was comparable to the sun itself. It rode in your veins, it had your blood bubbling up in excitement the longer he looked at you. You were just a small planet orbiting his sun, being pulled in closer and closer until all you could feel was the heat and the burn of him.

His tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, ridding it of dryness and discomfort.

But that small action had you going wild, feral even.

In that split moment, your gaze flickered to his lips. For a man who spent the majority of his life on a battlefield, his lips sure looked plump and made just for kissing.

It was like you were gravitating towards him, like a comet curve-balling around his planet, entangling around his soul and burning brightly at each twist and pull. His hold on you had your legs melting, as if you were nothing but a shard of ice, being thawed away at by his warm touch and sweetly whispered nothings.

His hand tilted your jaw, just enough for your lips to rest an inch from his. Any closer, and you’d be kissing, melting into one another.

Before either of you could do more, say more, the distant voice of Hardcase called out to you.

“Are you two comin’ or what?!” He shouted, cupping his mouth with both hands.

You jolted in your spot, effectively snapping out of whatever spell the man before you had cast on you. Clearly, he had been put under a spell too as his hands retracted and his posture stiffened.

“We’re on our way!” He shouted back, waving Hardcase off. His attention quickly returned to you, but the spell was now gone.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed it down with struggle.

Uncertainty and fear tugged at your heartstrings, and Fives knew exactly what that meant.

“G- General-“

“I need to go.” Your voice was meek and shallow as you retracted from his touch, as if he left your skin with painful burns and sears wherever his fingertips touched. “Alone.” You continued, placing a hesitant palm on his chest as Fives attempted to follow you.

This couldn’t be happening.

With your back turned to him and your figure disappearing into the distance, Fives couldn’t help but curse under his breath. His lips slightly agape, he stood in the same spot you left him in just moments ago.

How could he have ruined everything in such a short amount of time?

Scream, 1996

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 2k

Notes: This is it, this is my favorite one of all time... Okay that's not true but I'll say this is my favorite of the Kinktober 24' okay? Anyway there's A LOT going on in his one including just a lil hint of knife play

Day 10: Tittyfucking

“This is weird, this is so weird” Buck runs a hand over his hair, he can feel it shaking as he takes a deep breath. 

“She’s going to think it’s great, I’m telling you” Eddie stuffs a fry in his mouth.

Buck had FaceTimed him so he wouldn’t back out of this idea. You’d sent him a TikTok like a week ago, a “hear me out” was attached, and while he thought it was the funniest damn thing… he couldn’t get it out of his head and that was when he decided to plan something. 

The first thing he did was enlist Eddie's help because he knew he would chicken out of it before he’d even gotten around to getting everything he needed.

The costume was easy to find, so easy, especially around this time of year. Eddie was the one to convince him to use a real knife, as long as he somehow let you know it was real before anything started. 

Next, he’d started just… hinting that he’d had a surprise that he’d had an idea, and once he was sure you were onto him he decided it was time to get it in gear and make it happen. 

“What if she thinks I’m a freak” 

“Okay didn’t she literally send you the video? She’s a freak too bro” Eddie gestures with his chicken strip and Buck rolls his eyes. 

“Are you still coming over? I-I need help making sure she doesn’t try and kill me”

“Yeah, I’m still coming. Do you want me to come now?” 

“If it’s not too much trouble” he grins sheepishly and Eddie sighs, sipping his soda.

“I’ll be there in 10 bro” 

Eddie leans against the kitchen island, dipping his chicken tender into his barbecue sauce as Buck gets dressed. 

“Should I wear boxers?” 

“I dare you to wear a thong” 

“Bet” 

“Okay wait no I wasn’t-“ 

“Are you watching her location??” Buck comes downstairs, the mask balanced on his head, his robes in one arm…. And wearing a fucking thong leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination 

Eddie drops his chicken back in the bag and closes it up 

“There goes my appetite…” he mutters “Yeah I’m watching her location”

“Do I look okay?” He does a little spin and Eddie lets out a weird strangled noise as he gets an eyeful of Buck’s ass 

“Yeah dude you look great” 

“Okay good because-“

“Oh shit, shit her car pulled in, hurry up and finish!” 

Buck rushes to get changed and Eddie gathers all his stuff together, ready to leave as soon as humanly possible. 

“You two are freaks” He shakes his head and Buck grins, pulling the mask down over his face. 

“Yeah I know, it’s great right?!” He squeals excitedly as he goes to stand in the living room 

“Do I look scary??” 

“Terrifying”

The door locks turn and Eddie turns to look back, show time. 

“Hey, Eddie! What are you doing h-“

 You shriek and jump back as you look over to the living room where someone- whom you’re hoping is Buck, is standing… in a full Ghostface costume. You can already feel the heat building embarrassingly fast in your core. 

“The knife is very real” Eddie gestures with his soda, literally just ignoring your scream“And that-“ he sets it down, pointing. 

“Is your insane boyfriend” 

“Evan. Buckley.” Your mouth drops open as he stands across the room from you, Eddie grabs his jacket and keys from the counter 

“My job here is done imma just-” He points to the door and you nod, your mouth still open. 

“B-bye Eddie” You wave him off “Lock the door on your way out”

“Already done” 

The second the lock clicks shut, Buck takes a step forward and you take one back. Your eyes widen and his head tilts. 

“Ohhh my god” You cover your mouth, and he steps forward again 

“Quit it! That’s scary!” 

He opens his arms gesturing to the outfit 

“Yeah, I know it’s supposed to be! Shut up!” 

He gives you a double thumbs up and you giggle. You set your bag down on the counter and smirk at him. 

“So where do we go from here?” 

He shuffles through his clothing for a bit before brandishing a large kitchen knife. You gulp, okay maybe it was a little more scary than sexy right now. You’re about to come over to him when suddenly he lunges for you. 

You scream bloody murder and run around the counter, he chases right after you, just slightly slower than you are. Your back hits the wall and he lunges for you again, coming up short and hitting the wall instead. 

You’re standing a few feet away from him as he slowly turns his head to the side to stare at you, you stare right back into those empty black holes and you can almost see the grin on his face. He tilts his head slowly, before nodding to the stairs, you put your hands out in front of you before looking back for a second at the stairs. 

There’s no hope for you if you run up there… 

Good. 

You back up slowly as he starts stalking toward you again, both of you on the same page now. The back of your ankles hit the stairs and you turn around racing up the stairs. You scream again as you hear his heavy footsteps behind you, you make it to the top, turning around to see him and he’s right there. He covers your mouth this time and walks you backward, you fall back onto the bed and he climbs on top of you quickly, pinning you down. 

You buck your hips, twisting and trying to get out of his hold but it’s no use. He holds your chin tightly, squeezing your cheeks as he turns your face, just studying you. The knife comes up and you whimper as he slides the edge along your breast, you wince a little as you feel a tiny cut and his hand stops cold. He pulls the knife away, looking at the little bit of blood on it, and then back at you. 

“D-do it again” you whisper and you know his jaw is dropped just as wide as that mask is. 

“Better yet…” You look up at him and massage your breasts, you tease your nipples, circling your fingers around the hard nubs before you push them together, jiggling them for him 

“Will you promise not to kill me if I let you fuck them?” 

You can tell he doesn’t know what to do, you can practically see the little cogs in his brain turning as he tilts his head, you look up at him, so sweetly, so innocently, but there’s fear in your eyes and he likes that. 

He finally moves, snapping the strings of your tank top with the knife and dragging the tip down the center of your body. Your eyes widen as you watch it tear your top in two. 

That’s… sharp. 

He teases the tip around your belly button and you hold your breath, every breath you can feel it poking into you. 

He reaches up, caressing your face and you can practically hear his voice praising you like he always does 

“So beautiful, so perfect” 

He moves down your body, parting your thighs with the knife, and maneuvers you out of your shorts, he knows those are your favorites he won’t ruin those. 

Your panties, however…

He cuts those off too and your body shudders at the cool air, you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him. He drags one gloved finger through your folds and your breath hitches. 

He shakes his head and you know he’s chuckling. He rubs your clit in torturous little circles, watching you spread your legs, your head falls back slowly and you’re distracted by the way it feels. You’re moving your hips on his finger when suddenly he pulls it away. Your head snaps up and before you can even pout.

He slides the handle of the knife inside you

“O-oh my god”

He holds your hips in place, slowly working the knife in and out of you, the soft curved end hits that spongy spot inside you and you fight not to jerk your hips. 

“F-faster, please” you beg and he looks at you as you spread your legs wider. 

“You knew I was a freak when you asked me to be your girlfriend” 

You’ve got him there. 

He goes faster firmly planting his hand down so you can’t move, your back arches and you claw at the covers. 

“I need you inside me, please I need you” you keen softly and he can’t help himself, he pulls the knife away and you shriek as he stabs it into the pillow next to you. He grabs you by the neck, maneuvering you so your head hangs off the bed, and climbs on top of you. 

You’re dizzy and confused for a second before you hear the sound of a little bottle popping open and a slick liquid being poured over your chest. He pops the top again and you feel him position himself between your tits, his cock nestled between your breasts. With a firm grip on your tits, he thrusts forward, sinking into your soft, warm cleavage.

He thrusts a bit faster, his cock sliding between your tits, the sensation making you both groan. Your head bounces lightly with the intensity of his thrusts, making you even dizzier.

Buck reaches up, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers, adding to the stimulation. He can feel his climax building, his balls tightening as he gets closer to the edge.

With a final, hard thrust, he comes undone. He throws his head back, a silent scream of ecstasy behind the mask as he spills himself across your chest. His cock twitches and pulses, painting your skin with his release.

You’re both panting hard, your hips grinding against nothing but air as he climbs off of you. You hear his clothing rustle but he doesn’t help you up, instead, he lifts your legs, your ankles resting on his shoulders.

Buck’s done his best to stay silent through this, even if he wants nothing more than to shower you with praises and nasty words. His eyes widen as he sees you spread open before him, your pussy glistening with arousal. He licks his lips, his cock already hardening again at the sight.

He lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock teasing your folds. He groans quietly as he thrusts forward, burying himself inside you to the hilt. Your eyes roll back and your hands come down to brace yourself on the floor. 

His hips start to move in a relentless rhythm. He fucks you hard and deep, his thick cock stretching your walls deliciously with each thrust. His fingers dig into your flesh the harder he pounds into your pussy. 

You can’t help the high-pitched little noises that each rough snap of his hips rips out of you. You can feel your orgasm building faster and faster, all the way down to your toes. That hot feeling spreads through your body as Buck reaches between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

You scream out his name, your entire body shaking as you squirt on his cock, your juices splashing over his thighs as he cums inside you, fucking you through both of your highs. 

His hips begin to slow down to messy strokes before he collapses on top of you. He carefully pulls you up from hanging upside down so the blood in your head can go right back where it belongs. 

You reach up and pull the mask off staring at his sweet face 

“T-that was the hottest fucking thing we’ve ever done” 

“You really think so?” 

He’s so giddy, peppering soft little kisses all over your face and you giggle, cupping his cheeks and kissing him. 

“Especially the knife chasing, that was so exciting”

“I think I liked seeing your blood dripping from that knife” He growls playfully in your ear, dragging his hand lazily down your torso and settling his fingers between your legs 

Your thighs squeeze around his hand and he smirks 

“I liked that too” You blush, wrapping your arms around his neck 

“If you think this was fun, you just wait until my vampire costume comes in”

— 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓;

☾ Content: popstar f!reader much more famous than your pro volleyball player boyfriend- you finally hard launch your relationship on instagram but the public reaction isn't what you expect, so you take matters into your own hands

ft. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou, Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Koutarou, Kageyama Tobio

☾ A/N: inspired by dua lipa and callum turner and my girl sabrina

— 𝐔𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢;

Ushijima doesn't even have an instagram, naturally. the closest thing is he's got is his team's account, curated and managed by the PR team. so when you wiggle your phone in front of him to show him the chosen piece for your account, he just gives it a cursory glance and nods. the photo is from backstage at one of your concerts earlier this month: you, glowing with joy, arm slung casually around his neck, leaning into him as you beam up at him with a smile that could light up your stadiums. he's got one arm wrapped securely around your waist, usual stoic expression softened by a warmth in his eyes as he gazes down at you- one that only you seem to be able to draw out of him.

but the reactions to your post are swift and crushing. you're beyond proud of Ushijima- proud of his quiet strength, his dedication, his raw talent. you know you shouldn’t and it shouldn’t—doesn’t—matter, but your thumb keeps scrolling through the comments. each one feels like a knife twisting deeper, a personal attack, particularly the ones suggesting he doesn't care, that he looks like he's got the emotional depth of a spoon, that this is all just a PR move somehow. watching the sweetest man you know not get the recognition he truly deserves hurts more than you want to admit.

ᯓ🏐

when Ushijima steps into your shared bedroom, shirtless, his hair still damp from a post-workout shower and sweatpants slung low on his hips, his gaze finds you sitting at your vanity. the soft light of the mirror highlights your delicate features, casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

"toshi," you greet him warmly, turning toward him with an inviting smile. he pads over to you, barefoot, and you tilt your chin up expectantly. he rests one hand on the back of your chair, the other on the edge of your desk and leans down, capturing your lips in a long, slow kiss, his head tilting to deepen it as he lifts a hand to your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your soft skin before drawing back, a small smile curving up on his lips when he sees the dazed look in your eyes.

"morning, love." he says simply, before walking off to the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. completely oblivious to the phone propped up against your mirror, the livestream on the screen, and the chaos that you've just unleashed within your fanbase.

readerfanatic_official joined popicon4life just fell to my knees screaming in the 711 parking lot platinum_readerstan she's dating a TREE tinyreader777 'morning love'???...our queen is built different i would've evaporated on the spot bipbop_23 ...i get it now readerfan2024 guess i'm into volleyball now glitznglamfan girl i'm scared for ur holes

— 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐨𝐮;

it's a cute photo: the two of you on a beach at a resort, there for one of Oikawa's games. Hinata's got his head in your lap, one of your hands gently running through his messy orange hair while your other hand rests on his chest. you're gazing out at the sea, a serene smile gracing your face as you enjoy the view, while Hinata looks up at you, equally captivated by what he sees.

the comments that flood in are anything but kind. most of them poke fun at his height, with fans wondering how he managed to catch your eye when he's fighting gravity every day, others insisting that he must just be very funny. and it doesn’t bother Hinata at all, not that you can tell- he just scratches the back of his head and laughs, exclaiming that it's nothing he hasn't heard before, that he’ll just have to work twice as hard to earn your fans’ approval. ignoring your protests that he has nothing to prove.

ᯓ🏐

a few eagle-eyed fans are the first ones to notice it and not long after, screenshots of your activity start to circulate. first it's you liking an edit of Hinata lifting his shirt during ones of his games to wipe sweat off his brow. then it's a clip of him leaping into the air, showing off his energy and athleticism. a third like is a snapshot of Hinata celebrating a victory, fists clenched and knees bent, muscles in his thighs flexed as he roars with triumph.

the one that nips it in the bud is when you share a post to your story. it’s a reel- a compilation of Hinata’s spikes, his raw energy and unstoppable power lighting up the court as he slams the ball past his opponents. your fans lose it when you post a mirror selfie on the same day: you've got your back turned toward the mirror, all dolled up for an award ceremony in a gown that leaves nothing and everything to the imagination. you look good, accentuated by the man at your side who, unlike you, is facing the mirror. but Hinata isn't looking at the camera- his heated gaze is on your reflection instead. one of his arms is curved loosely around your waist, hand resting just above your ass.

the internet goes wild.

mvpmichelle8 2h 385 likes our girl is thirsting publicly on main i respect it robsessed247 2h 306 likes rip to her ass cheeks keanue_433 2h 243 likes ...what team does he play for again stanacctreader 1h 178 likes she got herself a short KING FR newvolley_98 1h 85 likes so when’s the next game where you get a front-row seat to his… spikes? 🥵

— 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮;

you don’t exactly share the photo yourself, but it might as well be yours. when Vogue posts the cover shot and tags you, it goes viral almost instantly. because Atsumu is seated in a luxurious chair, looking every bit like a king in his perfectly tailored suit, legs spread confidently, an air of dominance about him. you're perched on the armrest beside him, the slit of your black dress exposing the smooth curves of your body. one of your hands is loosely intertwined with his, resting on your thigh. the chemistry is palpable, electric. the sultry confidence in your posture paired with the intensity in Atsumu's gaze makes it impossible to look away. paired with the article about your relationship, this is a power couple at its finest.

or at least so you think.

the opinions of your fans are mixed, but those who disapprove don't hold back. they say that he must be cheating on you, that he looks untrustworthy, that his self-assured interview quotes only highlight how self-absorbed he is, implying he’s too consumed with himself to ever treat you right. Atsumu's ready to fight everyone questioning his devotion to you before you remind him that he can’t spend all day replying to hate comments- he has practice, and that you’ll handle it.

ᯓ🏐

you show up to the world championship that month with your entourage in tow. you visit Atsumu in his locker room to wish him good luck, ignoring the way his teammates trip over themselves gaping at you. he almost doesn’t let you leave, seizing you in a deep kiss that leaves you a little unsteady on your feet, but you plan a firm hand on his chest because you have places to be, a job to do.

when Atsumu steps up to serve and you watch as his routine unfolds, the familiar movements flowing effortlessly, your PR team is at the ready. his signature has evolved since his early days, the fist still a familiar gesture, but now his index finger uncurls at the last moment, pointing into the crowd. he doesn’t need to look; he always knows exactly where you are. but today, it’s different. you’re not in the shadows, hiding behind sunglasses or a baseball cap. today, you’re wearing his jersey, sitting front and center, in the best seat in the house. you’re clapping louder than anyone else, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt.

this time, when he finds you in the crowd, the whole world is watching.

Us Weekly: Atsumu Miya Makes History with Serve: Fans Go Wild over Major 'Couple Goals' Moment at the World Championship Buzzfeed: Is He Pointing to Y/N? 10 Moments Atsumu Miya Was Literally Screaming 'I Love You' Sports Illustrated: Atsumu Miya’s Serve Gets Personal: The Unspoken Gesture You Didn’t Know Was for Y/N Kyodo News: Fans Flock to See Miya Atsumu's Relationship with Global Sensation Y/N in Full View Cosmopolitan: Y/N and Atsumu Miya: From Music Charts to Volleyball Courts—Their Love Story (Exclusive)

— 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮;

what you think is a beautiful moment, your fans interpret quite differently. in the photo you post, Bokuto's strong arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he hugs you from behind. his hands are positioned low on your abdomen, fingers spread wide and pressing down lightly, a playful gesture that has you squirming in response. the candid shot your manager took captures you in mid-laugh. you're tilting away from him, hands gripping his wrists, body twisted in a half-escape as though you're trying to dodge his ticklish touch. Bokuto's lips are pressed softly to the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder partly obscuring his face. his expression is partially hidden, but the corner of his mischievous grin peeks out, his eyes glinting at the camera as he looks up right at that moment.

your fans tear him apart, their words dripping with criticism- accusing him of being too touchy, claiming that you don’t want him like that, that he's too obsessed, too forward. the comments flood in, one after another, each one more biting than the last. the relentless stream of negativity cuts deep, and you can see the toll it takes on Bokuto as he scrolls on his phone with a downtrodden look. you tell him to ignore it, that he has nothing to worry about, but you can tell it does little to lift his spirits.

ᯓ🏐

you show him that night just how deeply you care about him, straddling his lap and gently cupping his face in your hands. your lips meet his in a soft, reverent kiss, a silent exchange that you hope conveys volumes. you murmur against his mouth, telling him how perfect he is, watching with a quiet smile as the tips of his ears go red. but then he shifts, flipping you over on the bed, caging you in with thick arms all while still blushing so prettily. and when you feel something hard and big pressing against your inner thigh, you wonder what you've gotten yourself into.

Bokuto goes even redder the next day when he wakes up to incessant texting from his teammates and he opens social media to find a photo on your feed: it's of him shirtless, lying on his front and cradling a pillow with his cheek smooshed into it, his hair down and expression peaceful. what's not so peaceful is the view of his bare back- red streaks running down his tanned skin, unmistakably from your fingers. the white sheets thrown over his legs obscure anything from the waist down but his face flushes deeper as he takes in the rest of the intimate scene.

you've got one hand resting gently on his head, fingers woven loosely in his hair, thumb caressing his cheek mid-stroke. it's soft, casual, possessive.

fan_gurl_4 1h 403 likes the way we thought HE was the obsessed one...how the turn tables bobfriend_76 1h 386 likes she's marking her territory glamjam69 1h 207 likes ...this ain't demure or mindful at all menin4k22 45m 146 likes ma’am for science, p-please remove those sheets readerfan234 14m 121 likes the way she's touching him...i need a moment to grieve 😩

— 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐨;

the release party for your new album goes off without a hitch, and you score tons of cute photos with Kageyama, cuddling up to him that night to scroll through and select the best ones. your top choice is one of the more simple shots: you, with one hand resting on his chest, leaning into the arm he’s wrapped around your waist. his long fingers were hot against your skin through the delicate fabric of your dress, and you swear you can still feel the imprints of them. he's serious in the shot, his lips set in a stern line as he gazes into the camera, but you adore that look on him. especially when that same gaze shifts to you, hinting at something deeper, something darker, waiting for later.

your fans, however, don't see what you do. so you wake up to a barrage of comments, about how he looks boring, how he probably doesn't know a single one of your lyrics, how you could do so much better. naturally, Kageyama doesn't give a single shit as to what your fans think about him. just kisses you goodbye and heads off to practice, duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder. but you care.

ᯓ🏐

it takes a fair amount of convincing and a hefty dose of bribery, which somehow includes you securing an advertisement contract with one of Kageyama's favorite yogurt brands, but he finally agrees to appear in the music video for your latest hit. though, you can't help but think it had more to do with you casually hinting that your company had intended on pulling in one of the hottest actors currently on the scene, known for making girls swoon at meet-and-greets.

he plays a cop arresting you for a string of crimes you commit in the name of revenge on your cheating ex, culminating in him pushing you down in the backseat of his patrol car. it's hot, steamy, and when he shoves his knee between your legs, leaning over you with one hand pinning your wrists above your head, you won't deny that you make a mental note to recreate this scene later, without the cameras.

the music video shatters records and skyrockets to the top of the charts.

and the comments this time? well. they speak for themselves.

bops234 • 1 day ago this awakened something in me fando23 • 12 hours ago i'm going to need this man's @ immediately barkbarkbark_89 • 12 hours ago are we sure he doesn't want to switch career paths stanacctreader • 10 hours ago i thought he was just a plain slice of milk bread but boy was i wrong freedomsings145 1h • 5 hours ago casting your real life boyfriend as the main romantic lead in your music video is such a power move, as always our queen's taste is IMPECCABLE atsumumiya • 2 hours ago he looks like a foot

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A bout of insomnia keeps you awake, so you decide to go for a midnight walk. To your surprise you find that you aren't the only one still up as the sound of the shower running in the communal bathroom catches your attention. Who is it and what are they doing in there? Why does it sound like your lieutenant and why is he moaning your name?

Word Count: 5.6 k

Warnings:

Hot water from the shower runs in snaking pathways over the bulky muscles of the lieutenant’s back as he leans himself against the wall, his forehead resting on the bit of his forearm that is propping his body up while his engorged cock is tightly locked in his clenched fist. Furiously he strokes the length with eyes closed and mouth agape, grunting deep and guttural the tighter he squeezes around that throbbing appendage as he desperately works to ease the ache that has kept him from getting sleep yet another night in a row. 

The military base is hunkered down for the evening, most of the personnel fast asleep as he should have already been, but his mind is too full of thoughts…thoughts if you… that sleep is unattainable at this point unless he does something about them. He knows the risk he’s taking doing this in a communal space, but he hopes that it’s late enough that no one will be around to disturb him until he’s done.

It’s been another long, rough day of having to watch you from afar but not touch, follow you with his dark, hungry eyes while knowing he will never get a chance to taste your sweetness, and he needs a release before he does something foolish. Never has another gotten under his skin the way you have, never has he struggled so hard to keep his desire from consuming him whole like he has to every single time you are near, and lately it is becoming near impossible. 

There's only so much that even a trained professional can take before all that self-discipline goes right out the window and he is reaching his limit with each passing week. If this keeps up he is bound to slip up somehow, you will notice, and he cannot let that happen. He can’t do another desperate sleepless night and be sane enough to face you again the next day, so here he finds himself. 

Behind closed eyes he recalls the images from earlier during training of you sparring with one of the other recruits. The way your body moved and contorted as you took down your opponent, the sweat that glistened and rolled in large drops down your chest and into the top of your shirt, the look of cocky determination in your eyes, and the heavy breaths you took through parted lips was enough to set him off something bad. His hands had to be firmly crossed over his crotch even after you had finished and walked off to hide the stiffy he was suddenly sporting so it wouldn't draw attention from any wandering eyes. 

God, the way he wishes it had been him that was pinned beneath you on that mat instead of the recruit that you took down and makes him stroke even more furiously. Why can't it be your sweet, soft pussy he is thrusting into instead of his rough palm? He’d sell his soul to Satan himself just for a moment spent in your bliss.

Lt. Riley braces his feet wider in the shower to steady himself as a wave of pleasure surges through his limbs and nearly knocks him over as he continues stroking. There is so much sloppiness in his rhythm now; he’s getting closer and soon he’ll be able to think more clearly… at least for a little while. 

“The things I'd do to ya, sweetheart,” he mutters to the vision of you in his mind’s eye, the need overwhelming every sense until he can’t see straight. “Fuck, I just want tha chance ta make ya come. I’d make bloody sure ya would only ‘ave eyes for me from then on.”

His teeth clench behind his parted lips as a bit of salty precum dribbles out of the tip of his cock only to quickly get washed away by the water raining down over him. Fucking hell, this is a problem that doesn’t seem to have an end in sight; this isn’t the first time he’s had to jack off to get a moment of peace and he knows that this will only be a temporary fix. There’s only one thing that can satisfy him for good, but it is the one thing he isn’t allowed to have.

At least he tells himself over and over that you’d never give him the time of day and so he keeps his agonizing distance. So, as the rest of the world around him slumbers, he has to do what he must to get by…and even though he thinks himself the only one awake and trying to work out demons under the cover of night, he couldn’t be more wrong.

At the other side of the barracks, you stare up at the dark ceiling of your room just as you’ve done for the past hour now. You have tried to relax your limbs, clear your mind, close your eyes, but no matter how hard you push yourself, sleep keeps evading your grasp. Why? You know the answer plainly even if you don’t really want to accept it. 

His eyes had been on you again today, Lt. Riley’s. That intense dark brown gaze that always makes your pulse race each time you catch it lingering had been plastered on you even before you stepped up to your sparring partner during training earlier. It was as if he was trying to bore a hole through your body the way he wouldn’t look away. The ache that settled itself in your core at his undivided attention nearly distracted you enough that you about lost the fight and now that you are lying in the dark with nothing to keep you occupied it’s all your desperate mind can focus on.

Does the lieutenant even know what his attention does to you? Would he care even if he did?

What would he think if he knew that just his gaze alone makes your body burn, how you can’t ever seem to get enough of the way you can so easily capture his focus, how it fuels all of your fantasies and daydreams until it’s impossible to be in his presence without your breath quickening and feeling that familiar ache between your legs? Goddammit, if you had your way you would have those eyes glued to yours as he thrusts inside and makes you his for the first time, but you know that’s not a possibility.  

No, it’s got to be pure coincidence, something entirely innocuous, a superior surveying the progress of one of his soldiers. He is the unofficial second in command around here, of course he would need to take account of those that are under him. You’d have to be a fool to think it’s anything more than that, that someone as experienced and weathered as him would ever go for an underling like you, but it doesn’t change how it makes you desperately want to get closer to the serious and intimidating officer.  

Why does the one thing you want have to be so fucking far out of reach?

Your heartbeat is starting to race again and your fingers are too sore to go another round down below, so you give up with a sigh of defeat and get up out of bed; if sleep isn't coming then there's no point in lying here to only get more frustrated that you can’t let those salacious fantasies go. 

Maybe a walk will tucker you out enough that sleep will stop avoiding you, at least it’s worth a try. Better than lying in the dark trying to stroke out the overwhelming thoughts, trying to imagine the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress as his cock stretches you out. No, staying here is only going to do more damage. Slipping on some shorts with your tank top and grabbing your shoes, you head out of your room and begin your trek through the barracks headed towards the outside. 

You pass by the quiet rooms of your sleeping teammates, nothing but silence filling the halls that causes each soft step you take to sound louder than it should. Room after room passes by the same as the last as you make your way through the long stretches of hallway. All that's left is the showers coming up on your left, then the doors to the outside and you’ll be free to mosey about in the cool air while the music of the night gives you something else to focus on. 

But it isn’t the crickets, frogs, and other nocturnal animals outside that you hear now, nor is it those of the nightwatch making their rounds. It’s something else that grabs your attention.

The closer you get to the communal bathrooms, the more your ears pick up noise out of the stillness. At first it is only the distinct sound of running water hitting off the titles that cover the floors, but soon you catch the muted echo of a voice reverberating inside. Whoever is in there it sounds like they are in distress and curiosity gets the better of you. It's probably nothing, but it's best to check just to be sure. You'll pop your head in, make certain everything is alright, and then quietly leave without anyone knowing. 

Silently you creep up to the door and slowly creak it open so that the hinges won’t squeak and give you away just in case your worries turn out to be unfounded. The ambiguous noises become more clear and you realize it is the heavy masculine grunting of someone in the shower. It takes you a second to place why that sound is so familiar, but after a few seconds it finally clicks and you become embarrassed to have stumbled upon this private, intimate moment.

You move back from the door and almost let it fall closed when you catch the person inside saying something unexpected. Under the sound of the shower head running and heavy panting you swear that you hear the voice moan your name and instantly you are frozen in your tracks, unable to leave as planned.

You know that particular voice. 

Shit, you've heard it so many times over the course of your stay here that it is permanently burned into your psyche. The voice repeats the same and now you are sure that it is your name being moaned and a shiver runs up your spine. There is no mistaking it now that you detect that recognizable thick British accent. 

It's your lieutenant, that masked enigma himself, Simon Riley.

Instantly your cheeks feel like they are on fire as he repeats it again this time in more of a whimper. Is he really…? This has to be your overstimulated mind playing tricks on you. And yet there it is again, his deep voice grunting your name with more urgency as if he is intoxicated by the way that it rolls off his tongue and suddenly your head is spinning so that you aren’t immediately aware of what you’re doing.

Stop, you hear your inner thoughts swirl around the chaos inside your skull. What the hell are you thinking? Why are you going inside?

Even as you internally ask the questions, you can’t stop your feet that seem to have a mind of their own now and force you further inside the empty bathroom and over to the source of all those delicious sounds. The countless restless nights, the endless cravings for his presence that leave you desperate, the infinite amount of times you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him…your body needs this and it isn’t going to let you walk away until you see for yourself if this is real. 

If there is a chance…

The grunts come faster now as the lieutenant is about to blow when something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. There is a shadow on the other side of the curtain that hadn’t been there before, a dark mass of a figure standing stock still just outside the thin plastic veil hiding him from the rest of the room. His blood runs cold, anger taking hold as he is forced to stop and confront whoever it is that has decided to disturb him with their presence. 

Who the fuck could be up at this time at night anyway and why now when he was nearly finished? He pulls back the curtain in one swift, irritated motion just enough to poke his head out and confront the bastard, but to his surprise who should be standing there then the one person he doesn’t need to come face to face with in this intimate moment. You stare back at him with wide eyes brightly shimmering in the fluorescent lighting overhead. 

“The fuck ya think you’re doin’?” he barks harshly, flustered by the awkward position you've found him in. “Do ya know what fuckin’ time it is? Ya should be down for tha night instead a skulkin’ about. I suggest ya get out and head back where you're supposed ta be.”

You hear the jarring response: should move, leave, follow his order, but you can't. The sight of the water glinting off his husky chest, beads of condensation sparkling through the light brown hair covering his sternum and down his abdomen, is too delicious a sight for you to pull your eyes from. You always knew that the lieutenant was a mass of muscle, it’s clear even through his bulky tactical gear, but to see it all in the flesh is another story. How are you meant to walk away from all that tantalizing, slick, heated skin?

Without even thinking, you step in closer. “I …don’t want to go.” 

“What?” The question comes out as a surprise.

You swallow. “I said I don’t want to go,” you reiterate.

You wrestle with yourself on what to do now that you’ve gotten here as he stares back at you in confusion, sensing how the air has suddenly seemed to shift all at once. Do you reveal the truth and tell him everything, including that you heard his desperate pleas? Will that be enough? Or do you do something else entirely? What if he rejects any advances just to save face? 

“What're ya…?” he starts to ask, only to lose the end of his sentence as you move in until the thin plastic curtain is the only thing keeping you apart. 

Screw it, you’ve come this far and that throbbing ache between your legs is ruling your actions now. This is a terrible idea, but that is the only type available at this time of night. Your heartbeat is in your ears as your gaze locks to his and your fingertips grab at the hem of your tank top to slowly drag it up over your torso and pull it off the top of your head. The skimpy bit of fabric hangs idly from your hand almost sweeping the floor as you stand there bare chested staring back at him. 

If this doesn’t make your intentions clear, then nothing will, and hopefully the temptation is enough to sway his actions.

Simon tries to inhale, but the wind has been knocked from his lungs and he can’t seem to get it back. Composure is his calling card and yet right now being in control isn’t an option anymore, not with the way you look like the most perfect treat he’s ever laid eyes on. He releases a shuddered breath that he didn’t know he was holding onto. There is a heat in his chest and it’s spreading through his limbs like a wildfire, ready to consume all the common sense he has left. Watching that hardened man break gives you new found confidence and you find your voice amidst the dibilitating rise in your blood pressure.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you manage to say without faltering. “Not after what I just heard.”

Fuck, he really has been found out.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you can’t take your eyes off of me, sir?” you continue, the truth spilling out like the water from the shower. “You might think yourself slick because of the mask, but I swear whenever we’re near each other I can feel your gaze lingering on me. It’s not the same one you give the others, this one is different… and do you know the worst part?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment even though Lt. Riley doesn’t even try to answer it; he can’t, he’s too overwhelmed. “The worst part is that I can’t get enough of it.”

The lieutenant’s vision is tunneled in on your sweet lips as he listens to your words, the desire to grab you and drag you to him spreading throughout his limbs at your confession. A few stray droplets of water drip down from the cropped tips of his dirty blond hair and hit the top of your shoes as he struggles to speak.

“This is a bad idea, luv,” he says as his final attempt to give you an out. “Ya should go ‘fore ya do somethin’ ya regret.”

You shake your head. “The only thing I’m going to regret is leaving. I can’t take another sleepless night. And it sounds like you can’t either.”

As you speak, you quietly slip your feet out of your shoes and toss your shirt haphazardly away and it crumples to a heap on the ground. “I need you… so bad. I can’t take it anymore. Please, don’t send me away.”

That’s it, all sense is completely gone as Simon Riley is no longer in control of his actions, not after hearing you plead for him to take you. Ripping open the curtain all the way, he silently pulls you into the shower and shoves you back into the tiled wall. Your big doe eyes peer up at him as the water mists from the showerhead above you and trickles off your eyelashes. 

He watches the droplets collect and sparkle like diamonds as they fall onto your delicate cheek, his bare chest heaving up and down laboriously with each panted breath as he takes in all he can now that he has the chance. His large hands glide over your arms as he truly contemplates the consequences of his actions, but there is no reprimand, no amount of punishment in this moment that can make him fight off the brunt of his attraction.

You stand in his presence only able to look on, mesmerized by finally being able to take in the enigma you’ve only rarely ever seen in bits and pieces and never this up close. Goddammit he’s handsome. All those stark, chiseled features, the light covering of brown stubble along his jaw, those brilliant eyes that are even more gorgeous now that they aren’t shadowed in his mask steal your breath away. Old, faded scars are speckled across his visage and trail down the length of his body, but even those take nothing away from his looks. 

Husky, bulked out muscles from years of hard physical labor, outline and glistening with water meet your gaze the further your eyes travel. The sheer girth of his body is enough to make your mouth salivate as you wait in anticipation for it to be molded into you, dwarfing yours in comparison. 

“Wanted this for so fuckin’ long, luv,” he breathes as his sight drifts down to the beautiful pair of naked breasts nearly pressing into his chest, bringing you back from your supor as you admire. “I need to hear ya say it, that I can ‘ave my way with ya.”

Anything, you’ll say anything to break that short, agonizing distance between you. “Fuck me,” you say, lips left parted as you wait for him to take the lead and break the tension.  

There is a ringing in his ears as if the entire world has suddenly fallen silent as the brunt of his suppressed desire floods immediately to the surface, overwhelming everything in a blink. Without a word he urgently cups both of his palms around either side of your head just behind your ears, thumbs resting along your jaw so that he can draw your face to him as he leans down into your face. He has to kiss you now; the need is suddenly so strong it’s like he is choking on it. You barely have a second to take a breath before he crashes his lips on your own.

He captures those soft bits of skin over and over again in desperately feverish waves, stealing the balmy air from your mouth to sustain the connection so that he doesn’t have to break it just yet. The last thing he wants to do is destroy this overwhelming magnetism that draws you both together and by your way you grab onto the meat of his hips to pull him tighter to you, he knows you feel it too.

Has anything ever felt more euphoric than the way your full, soft pout feels? Has anyone ever tasted as sweet, has he ever been more instantly hooked on the sensation of someone else’s mouth pressed to his? He can’t remember anymore. There is nothing else outside of you in this desperate moment. 

Releasing your face, his rough fingertips follow the curve of your spine down to roundness of your ass where he grabs handfuls to massage. So absorbed in your taste, the feeling of your lips, the heat of your breath, that it takes minutes for him to realize that there is still a barrier between your bodies: the shorts now damp from the shower still hopelessly clinging to your hips. They have to go as they are very shortly going to get in the way.

“Wanna get these fuckin’ things off,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls the fabric down, miserably removing his mouth from your own so that he can help you step out of them. They are quickly tossed past the shower curtain and before they even can hit the ground he is harshly pressed back against you once again to steal your mouth and devour your kiss. 

Your moistened bodies slip across each other as the pressure builds and the movements become more desperate, him pushing his hardened cock into your pelvis as he grinds against you and shoving a thick thigh between your parted legs to give you something to hump. He fills your mouth with a muffled groan as the silky lips of your pussy connect with the skin; it’s better than he could have ever imagined it feeling and he cannot wait to get inside and be constricted by your walls squeezing around him, but there’s a little more he has to explore first.

Patience, he’s going savor this moment like it’s the only one he’ll ever get.

“Tha’s it,” he encourages in a short burst, trailing his lips down to your jaw towards your throat as you roll your hips hard to catch your clit on the muscle. “Fuck, ya do need it bad, don’t ya? I wanna hear it, tell me how bad you’ve needed it, luv.” 

Those hungry lips reach the side of your neck and start to suck, puckering the skin into his mouth and you struggle to remember how to talk through the sensitivity hazing your thoughts. “Everytime I have to see you… f-fuck…  can’t sleep. Have to keep … uuughh… t- touching myself for relief.”

His mouth continues to trail lower and lower down the contours of your body, leaving warm, moist kisses along the skin of your collarbone and over the side of your chest. “Keep going,” he orders.  

You gulp down another moan as his burning lips lock to your breast, suctioning to the areola while that agile tongue flicks over the very tip of your nipple until it’s stiff. God, your tits are like heaven, so soft and juicy as they fill his mouth.  His hand palms over the other breast and begins to play; he won’t leave that one to not receive any attention.

“Can’t…focus,” you stammer, “can’t think of anything except you. Begging into the dark for you…to take me…to make me yours.”

“Think ‘a my cock a lot, luv?” he asks amused as he switches sides and takes the other breast into his hungry mouth.

The heat in your face makes your cheeks feel swollen. “I…do,” you admit as if you both aren’t already naked and humping each other. 

“Wonderin’ what it would feel like?”

“Wanting it inside me,” you add.

His hand leaves your chest and moves between your bodies to grab yours and bring it down to wrap around the girth of his shaft. “It don’t ‘ave to be a mystery anymore, sweetheart.” 

Goddammit, he’s big. You’d barely had time to register the look of it before his mouth was plastered to yours and though you can feel it grinding into you, now that it is in your fist it makes your breath hitch. “F-fuck…” you moan as your hand slides up and down the length.

Simon’s cock twitches as if in response to the ache in your voice and you can feel its heartbeat. The thrill to know you have a strong grip on such a man as the lieutenant, that it is you he wants, it’s you he needs, that his cock is hard just for you makes you grind against him with eyes closed trying to make yourself come.  

“Gonna stuff ya full,” he groans from the pressure you apply as you continue to work him. “Stretch out your sweet pussy.”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please.”

The steam billows around your conjoined bodies, condensation enfolding you in a layer of mist as if you’re stuck in a dream when he finally emerges hastily from your chest with lips puffy and red from the suction. He rips your hand from around him as the pressure has almost reached the point of no return and aggressively he picks you up as if you weigh nothing; he’s stronger than you realized to be able to lift you almost effortlessly. 

“Put your legs ‘round me. Now,” he barks sharply and you do as you’re told. He braces your back up against the wall for leverage as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and his sight drifts down between your bodies. 

“Ready for me?” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. 

A nod is all he is going to get, the inside of your mouth tasting like copper as you bite your cheek to keep quiet as his swollen tip slips through your petals to find the opening, rubbing up against your swollen clit. Your slick coats his cock, a clear sign that he’s good to go. It takes him only a moment with a slight adjustment of his hips to align with his target.

“Deep breath, sweet girl,” he says as he raises his gaze to peer back into your eyes and with a thrust the fat tip pushes through the threshold of your aching, throbbing core, stretching it wide as it takes him in.

Instantly you choke on the moan that stuffs your mouth full and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep it from escaping. The lieutenant does the same, but you can feel the bass vibrate through his chest as his steel-like grip digs harshly into your waist.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says breathily through a lustful chuckle, fighting off the urge to blow his load before he’s even gotten all the way in, “but ya can take more, can’t ya?”

Another nod, more enthusiastic this time and again he thrusts past the tip down his veiny shaft and reaches the base. You can’t hold it in anymore, the way his cock fills you so full makes you lose yourself. Eye closed, you can’t stop the loud moan that you let out and the sound reverberates off the walls of the cramped space until it is amplified. To think you were ever going to satisfy yourself with only your fingers when all of this was waiting for you to discover seems almost comical now.  

The lieutenant’s large hand rushes to cover over your mouth. “Gotta be quiet for me. Don’t need anyone comin’ in and ruinin’ this. I’m not done with ya yet, luv; gotta make ya come for me first.”

The shine in your glazed-over eyes gives him your answer and he removes his hand with a nod as he knows an even better solution to keep you quiet. He leans back in and his lips pull yours into their secure embrace before he risks slipping in his tongue to wrestle with yours; can’t make much noise with your mouth so full.  

There’s no way he is going to calm down enough now to stave off his orgasm for much longer and so with your mouths connected he starts to thrust, dragging himself nearly out of your core before slamming back up into you. Every thrust strikes up into your pussy shoving him in as deep as he can get, your body shaking from the force as your back is dragged up and down along the wall. The moisture on the walls keeps the friction low so you can move easily with his percussive hits into your body.

So fucking wet, so goddamn tight, how is he meant to not fall apart? Simon can’t help rutting into all that goodness like an animal hell bent on capturing every bit of pleasure he can. Lost in the feeling his rhythm wavers, but breaking from your mouth and taking a few deep breaths he gets himself right back on track. As he bucks wildly up into you your arms hold on tightly around the back of his neck and you notice how the muscles tense with each of his strong thrusts. 

“Need ya ta come for me… need it so goddamn bad…” 

There is no hiding the desperation in his words. He has to know that your body belongs to him now, that after tonight you won’t ever even think of straying from him. You’re his, his, and after all the agony he’s endured before getting here, he has to make sure of it. 

That burn deep in the muscle starts to shoot through his thighs, but he doesn’t slow and the more he works the more that warmth gathers in the pit of your stomach. You’ve dreamed of moments like this for so long it becomes overwhelming: the feeling of his skin against yours, his cock buried deep inside you, his honeyed words conveying everything you’ve wanted to hear; it’s euphoric.

You whimper and quickly breathe it out. “Fuck, gonna come.” 

“Tha’s it, sweetheart. Almost there,” he coaxes, secretly knowing that at any moment he is going to come too. “Jus’ let go and come for me. Let me feel it, pretty girl.” 

It’s there, it’s so close. That sweet release is within reach. “A-ah…fuck… almost there…”

“My good girl,” he grunts, “come on my fuckin’ cock.” 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as the pleasure builds until all at once, like the flick of a switch, your core contracts and all of that intensity explodes in a blast of warmth that flows through your limbs. Leaning forward, you bury your face in his shoulder and whimper as you ride out that wave of ecstasy.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans behind clenched teeth at the feeling as your core constricts around him, sending him over the edge. 

Wrenching his cock out as fast as he can, he angles it up between your bodies. You regain some composure, enough to instinctively reach for it to stroke him the rest of the way through. His hot, milky cum dribbles onto your stomach in short bursts while his upper body twitches as you work out all you can. Finally, he falls in against you and places his hand on top of yours to force you to stop.

The sound of the running water conceals the sound of your combined breathing as you both come back down from that high and he can set you back on your feet carefully. Back on solid ground you both just stand there quietly taking in the moment and all that just happened until the lieutenant breaks the silence.

“Think you’ll be able ta sleep now?” he asks as his fingertips caress over the heat in your cheeks.

You nod with a smile spread across your lips. “But I’m not sure about tomorrow night,” you say with a glimmer in your eyes. “Might be up again.”

Biting his lip he tilts his head away as he tries not to show how much it excites him to hear you say that, rubbing his hand over his head to slick back his short hair. “Well, we can’t have that,” he says. “Right now, though, I got a mess ta clean up.”

There is one last, deep kiss waiting for you before he gently pulls you under the showerhead to wash away the evidence of what happened here tonight. As he watches the water run down off your delicious curves and flow down the drain, he realizes that this is going to become an even bigger problem than he had before… but fuck is he ready for it.

NO STRINGS ATTACHED

A Wolffe x F!Reader Enemies to Lovers Fic

Summary: As the owner of 79's, you thought you'd be used to dealing with clones by now -- but nothing prepared you for the arrogant, infuriating Commander Wolffe and his apparent personal mission to piss you off. When the two of you somehow find yourselves in an enemies-with-benefits situation, you swear that it's nothing but a physical release of all the frustration he causes you. It's casual. It's convenient. It's completly inconsequential. For the most part.

Series Tags/Warnings: Rated E (18+ only), enemies to lovers, sexual tension, eventual smut, hatefucking, slow burn, denial of feelings, verbal harassment from a stranger, alcohol, jealousy

Chapter 1: Whiskey Sours

Chapter 2: Bitters

Chapter 3: On the Rocks

Chapter 4: Bloody Mary

Chapter 5: Fireball

Chapter 6: Hair of the Dog

Chapter 7: Dry Wine

Chapter 8: Painkiller

Chapter 9: Shaken

Chapter 10: Flip Cup

Chapter 11: Hammered

Chapter 12: Jello Shots

Chapter 13: Body Shot

Chapter 14: Thirsty

Chapter 15: Absinthe

Chapter 16: Bleeding Heart

Chapter 17: Hungover

Chapter 18: Shot for Shot (part 1) (part 2)

Chapter 19: Intoxicating

Chapter 20: Chaser

Chapter 21: Tequila Sunrise

Epilogue: Last Call

Q&A:

Question and answer list (AO3)

Cocktails from the fic

Q&A tag

Drabbles and One-Shots:

One Little Hang-Up (holiday oneshot)

"Put your datapad away and come cuddle with me."

"I'll kiss you to prove I don't have feelings for you..."

"Just kiss me."

Kissing your lover's tears away

Maid of Honour and Best Man getting heated

"You're my path."

Your lover kissing your knuckles to comfort you

"We'll always be alright, you and me..."

Additional:

🎵 Official playlist 🎵

Catch-all and inspo tag

Director's Commentary: Chapter 8

Director's Commentary: Fun Facts

79's info sheet

that old cliché.

you swore you’d never give in to the maid of honour and best man cliche. and then you met evan buckley.

evan buckley x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol. buck’s a filthy flirt.

word count - 6k

authors note - and so she returns!! thank you all so much for your loveliness on my post about my break - I appreciate it more than you know. this one was so much fun to write. i’ve not written any longer stuff for buck, but he’s a character I feel that I have a really good understanding of - I actually think we’re very alike - so this came so easy. hope you love it as much as I do. <3

masterlist. inbox.

Silvery melodies of laughter clink off the rim of the champagne flute you hold in your freshly manicured hand. As the gentle breeze whips through the material of your dress, you look around you, realising you’ve never seen so many people so happy at once.

The backyard of the Italian villa is packed, dozens of guests milling around - dancing, drinking, chatting and catching up. Family, friends, colleagues; people from every phase of the bride and grooms life, all celebrating together in one place.

A rocks glass is placed down onto the table in front of you with a thud. Looking up, you’re met with the sight of the best man towering over you expectantly with a drink in his hand.

“Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

You scoff, staring up at him through your lashes.

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yeah. But why?”

“It’s whiskey. I watched you grimace every time you had to drink the champagne, so I thought you’d want something different.”

You swirl the glass, listening to the tinkle of the ice against the sides.

“You were watching me, huh?”

“Of course I was. Can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”

“Shut up,” you chide, fighting to keep the grin off your face. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“The whole best man and maid of honour thing. It’s just too cliched.”

He laughs all hearty and genuine, and you poignantly ignore the way the butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Yeah, right. In your dreams, Evan.”

“Oh, you will be,” he winks, knocking his glass against yours in a quick cheers before walking off to the find the groom.

You watch him go, not completely oblivious to the way his suit fits him just right. Determined to stand your ground, you inhale a deep breath before taking a sip of your drink. The drink that definitely isn’t exactly what you needed. The drink that he’d practically read your mind to figure out. Effortlessly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been like this all day.

You met Evan Buckley for the first time last night, at the rehearsal dinner. The bride, your best friend in the world, kept telling you that you’d love the best man.

“He’s from California,” she’d said. “He’s Danny’s friend from when they were kids. He’s a firefighter, babe. He’s hot.”

You’d laughed it off, zipping up the back of her dress while she watched you in the mirror.

“Oh, come on. That’s so cliched. The whole maid of honour and best man thing is so old, Lucy.”

“You’re single, he’s single,” she’d protested. “It’d do you some good to get laid, relieve some stress. And people let their guards down at weddings. Now’s your chance.”

“If I wanted to get laid, I’d get laid,” you scoffed.

“All I’m saying is that Buck is completely your type. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s sweet. And you’re gonna have to spend a fair bit of time together tonight and tomorrow, so… just keep an open mind.”

“Fine,” you soothed, rolling your eyes. “Mind wide open. Alright?”

“You’re gonna love him.”

“You said that already.”

“Because I really believe it. You’re gonna love him.”

And the problem is… she was kind of right.

No, you don’t love him. You’ve known him for 48 hours. But… there’s something.

Lucy wasn’t lying. He is gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. And hot. So hot. He showed up to the rehearsal dinner in dress pants and a linen shirt, all sun kissed and muscled and tanned and stunning.

The two of you were seated next to each other, planned so carefully by the bride and groom. One minute you were making cautious introductions, shaking hands and smiling gently. The next minute you were crying with laughter, clutching at his bicep as he grabs your thigh, legs intertwined and chairs pulled together.

Lucy and Danny nudge each other occasionally, watching the both of you get along like two old friends that have known each other forever. A look passes between them that says I told you so clear as day.

But you’re stubborn. Too stubborn, some may say. You know you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends if you give into this very alluring temptation, and perhaps your pride means a bit more to you than it should. So you resist, you refuse to give in. Even if you really want to.

And that was just last night. Today has been even worse.

By worse, you mean the connection between you and Evan has grown even stronger. You walked down the aisle with him, arm linked with his, both dressed up to the nines. The maid of honour and the best man, a perfect picture.

You haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other all day. Little touches - his fingers on the small of your back, your grip on his bicep, shoulders brushing and thighs pressed together. Nothing crazy, but nothing meaningless, either. There’s an undeniable electricity buzzing between you, hot and alive.

You’re not sure how much longer you can deny it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re dancing with Lucy and her little nieces when you hear yelling and commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor. Looking over, you see Danny, Evan and other groomsmen flailing around and fussing.

“What happened?” Lucy’s yelling, making her way over with you in tow.

“Just a drink spillage, Luce! But it’s red wine, and now Buck’s shirt is pink.”

You look at the man in question and can’t help but laugh. His crisp white dress shirt is now a pretty shade of pink across the front, his cheeks a rosy colour to match.

“Stop laughing,” he chides, but he’s grinning at you as he says it. “I need to go and change. I have a spare shirt in my suitcase upstairs.”

He starts to leave, but soon turns around and calls your name.

“I don’t have a key for that big door at the end of the hallway to get to our rooms. Do you?”

“Yeah, it’s in my purse. You want it?”

“Just come with me. It’ll be easier.”

Before you can argue, he’s taken off, big strides across the garden. You have to practically run in your heels to keep up with him, shaking your head in frustration.

“I could have just given you this,” you say when you reach the door, unlocking it for him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The smirk he gives you is so cheeky, it’s a wonder you don’t smack it off his face. Cocky bastard.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, walking with purpose to his room.

“Come in with me? It’ll only take a minute, then we can walk back together.”

You know you should say no, tell him that you’ll meet him downstairs. But you don’t. Instead, you say,

“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna miss the party.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes, unlocking the door to his room that’s conveniently directly across from yours.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid watching him undress. He shrugs off his now pink shirt, taking it with him into the bathroom.

You’re surprised at how tidy everything is. Not that you think Evan would be particularly messy, but he doesn’t strike you as a neat and clean type. His suitcase is unpacked into the closet, bed made, nothing on the floor. It only makes you like him more.

“Can you grab my other shirt from the closet please, gorgeous? The one I wore last night for the rehearsal dinner.”

You swing the two doors open and rifle around, failing to see the linen button up that he’s looking for. Suddenly, you feel a warmth behind you, Buck’s solid form caging you in. He reaches around you, arm brushing yours as he finds what he needs.

“Found it,” he murmurs into your ear, all low and honeyed.

Against your better judgment, you turn around, finding yourself face to face with him. He towers over you, watching your reactions carefully. Your hands reach out and rest on his bare chest, steadying yourself before you either fall over or pass out.

Buck gently traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes completely locked on yours. You have to resist every urge to either bite it or suck it into your mouth, reminding yourself that now isn’t the time. The noise from the garden floats up and through the window that’s cracked open slightly, tethering you to the reality that is slowly fading away the longer you hold Evan’s gaze.

He leans in, and to your surprise, doesn’t kiss you immediately. Pressing his forehead to yours, he inhales deeply, as if committing the moment to memory. His thumbs are now tracing gentle circles on your jaw, soft and callous at the same time. You inhale slowly, processing the scent of his cologne mixed with the evening breeze. If you could bottle it up, you think, you’d be a millionaire. This would cure everything.

Buck finally closes down the gap between you, inching towards your lips softly. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to finally kiss you - when there’s deafening knocking on the door. The two of you jump apart, hearts pounding and nerves on a live wire.

Evan strides over to the source of the noise, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he goes. You perch on the edge of the bed, smoothing down your dress and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Buck? Dude, it’s Jake. Hurry up, yeah? The guys wanna do our dance routine before everyone gets too drunk to remember it.”

He doesn’t bother opening the door, just yells back through the wood.

“Yeah, sure - I’ll be down in a minute!”

You hear Jake’s footsteps retreat, both of you exhaling the breaths you didn’t know you’d been holding. Buck looks at you, worried that the moment’s been ruined, to find you stifling a laugh behind your hand.

“There’s a dance routine?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “We created it years ago. The guys won’t let it die.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”

You’re cackling, reclining onto the duvet as you laugh.

“Stop,” he groans, jumping over to flop onto his back on the bed next to you. “I did a lot of regrettable things in college… and that routine is definitely the worst of it.”

“I hope you know that you’re never going to live this down, Buckley. I’ll be reminding you of this forever.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you. “You really like me, huh?”

“What the hell gave you that impression?”

“You said forever. What’s next, honey? You gonna get down on one knee later?”

You’re suddenly aware of the warmth of the whiskey flowing through your veins, giving you a liquid confidence that stuns both you and the man lying next to you.

“Two knees, maybe. But not one.”

His eyes go wide as you smirk, pulling yourself off the bed and making your way over to the door. Buck watches you carefully, gaze steady and firm.

“You coming? I’m more than ready to see those moves of yours.”

He stands up, slipping on his shoes and shrugging the clean shirt onto his broad shoulders. You grab your purse, leaning against the doorframe as you wait.

Evan reaches past you for the door handle, nose purposely brushing yours as he does it.

“I’ll hold you to what you said before,” he murmurs, moving a strand of hair away from your face softly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

You look up at him with big doe eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Sure, Evan,” you reply lowly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Breaking away from him, you swing the door open, strutting down the hallway without looking back. Your confidence has sky rocketed, knowing that he wants this just as badly as you do. You walk back out to the garden and take your earlier seat, ready for the show you’ve been promised.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dance routine is spectacular.

It’s cheesy and hilarious and very early 2000s inspired - it’s almost like watching a music video from a boy band you loved when you were a teenager. It should embarrass you, turn you off majorly, but… it doesn’t. It only does the opposite.

Everything Buck does makes you like him more.

You spend the rest of the evening dancing, laughing, and floating on cloud nine. In a garden in Italy, surrounded by your best friends - you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

As the evening dwindles to an end, everyone slowly begins making their way back to their rooms within the villa. You sit down, unbuckling your heels to finally give your feet a rest. It almost feels like deja vu when a rocks glass is placed down in front of you on the table.

“Hi, Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yes, but why?”

He pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down, looking at you intently.

“Thought we could have a nightcap before we go upstairs.”

You look around to find that mostly everyone has decided to call it a day. You can see Lucy and Danny walking off hand in hand, going for a stroll around the grounds before they let the wedding officially be over. It just leaves you and Buck, sat in your original places.

“Is this Baileys?”

“Yes ma’am. Do you like it? I figured you probably wouldn’t want another whiskey, seeing as you’ve had so many.”

You scoff, trying to fight the grin that threatens to take over your face.

“I’ve had, like, four, thank you very much.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“Cheers, Evan,” you toast, clinking your glass against his matching one. “We did it. A wedding without a hitch. Mostly.”

“My shirt will never be white again, but besides that, we did a pretty good job.”

“We make a good team.”

He looks slightly taken aback by your honesty, trying to hide his smirk.

“Yes, we do. A super hot, super funny team.”

“A super hot, super funny team.”

You both laugh, heads thrown back with no cares in the world. Buck shuffles his chair forward so his legs are slotted on either side of you, warm skin radiating into yours. The moonlight is glinting off of his cheekbones, illuminating the light streaks in his hair. You’re a little tipsy and much too tired to fully fight your feelings anymore.

He’s beautiful, and you’re sick of denying it.

The two of you finish off your drinks, sat in a comfortable silence beneath the starry night sky. His hand has found its way onto your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into your bare skin. You’re sneaking glances at him when he looks away, admiring the way he’s glowing, buzzed off of the alcohol and the excitement of the day. He’s doing the same with you, soft smile etched onto his face as he watches you gaze up at the stars above your heads.

A yawn escapes you, making both of you chuckle.

“I’ll walk you to your room?”

“Well, you better. I’m the only one of us with a key for that big door.”

He laughs even harder, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I forgot about that. If you weren’t here, I’d have slept on the floor in the hallway or something.”

“Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter, standing up and tucking your chair under the table.

“Sorry, what was that? Say it again? Hmm? Hmm?” he wraps his arms around your middle, spinning you so your feet are no longer on the floor.

“Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up,” you shriek, giggling like a teenager.

He places you back down, hands on your hips to steady you. You look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on his to steady yourself from the dizziness. When you feel ready to go, you clear your throat, willing yourself to walk away before you kiss him stupid.

“We should go to bed,” you whisper, afraid to ruin the moment.

“Yeah?”

“Separate beds,” you tell him sternly, chuckling when he cackles.

“Yes ma’am.”

Buck walks you back to your room in a gentlemanly fashion, looping your arm through his to keep you both upright. When you reach your door, your fingers linger on the handle, as if you’re not quite ready to go inside just yet.

Reaching out gently, he moves a strand of hair from your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone as he does it. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet contact.

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmurs lowly. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.”

He takes a step back towards his door when you speak again.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything, today. You’ve been a damn good best man.”

“Well, thank you. For being the best maid of honour.”

You nod, smiling like an idiot as you unlock your door and shut it behind you. You take a deep breath when you’re finally inside, throwing down your heels onto the floor and your purse onto the side table. Reaching behind you, your fingers tug at the zipper on your dress, attempting to pull it down.

It’s only now you realise your dilemma. The zipper is on an awkward place on your back, right where you can’t get to. You think quickly back to this morning - one of the bridesmaids doing the dress up for you, pulling the material taut as she fastened it. You’re not going to be able to get this off yourself.

Finding the purse that you discarded minutes earlier, you aim to find a hair clip. If you can loop a bobby pin into the zipper, you think, you might be able to pull it yourself. You root around in it for a second, before pulling out two phones.

Well, fuck.

You’d completely forgotten that Evan had given it to you earlier in the evening, worried that it was going to get broken if it stayed in his back pocket. You’d tucked it away and not thought about it again.

Until now.

Now, you’re realising that you’re going to have to go and give it back. He probably hasn’t remembered that you have it, otherwise you’re sure he’d be knocking on the door or yelling across the hallway.

You stand in the middle of your room, with two phones and a stuck zipper, wondering if the universe thinks this is funny.

You’re certainly not laughing.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Evan?”

He swings the door open, facing you in his suit trousers with no shirt on.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh, I have your phone.”

Holding it out to him, his fingertips brush yours as he takes it from you, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh, shit. I forgot about this. Thanks, pretty.”

“Of course.”

You stand and look at each other for a second, so much left unsaid.

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Anything.”

His instantly willingness has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flitting and lightweight and undeniable.

“Can you help me get my dress off?”

When he smirks and goes to speak, you cut him off quickly.

“The zipper is stuck, Evan. Alice zipped me up this morning and I can’t undo it by myself.”

“This is a very long winded way of asking me to get you naked, gorgeous.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“If that’s what I wanted, I would just ask you, Buckley.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Can you help me or not?”

He’s laughing, now, head thrown back with it. You hate the way it makes your heart sing.

“You coming in? Or you want me to undress you in the hallway?”

“You’re not undressing- fuck, you’re annoying.”

He’s still chuckling when he ushers you inside, shutting the door firmly behind you both.

“How do you wanna do this? Lights on, lights off? Curtains open or shut? Music? Candles?”

“Undo the damn zipper before I smack you.”

His laughter is rumbling through his chest, contagious in its nature. You want to be angry at him, but you just can’t seem to find it in you.

“Turn around, gorgeous.”

You spin to face the door, taking a deep breath as you anticipate his touch. You feel his warmth behind you, fingertips dancing over the skin of your shoulders before they reach your zipper. You can’t see him, but you can envisage the sight - his broad chest, thick neck, that beautiful sun kissed glow he’s developed over the past few days. Your lungs heave as the room suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees.

Buck slides the zipper down your back slowly, with intent and clarity. When it reaches your coccyx, he stops, resting his other hand on your hip to keep you steady.

You know you should step away, maybe throw him a quick thanks as you leave. But you do believe in fate, whether you like to admit it or not - and this entire night has felt like it’s been written in the stars.

Who are you to deny what the universe is so clearly gifting you?

You let your arms relax, sighing as the dress falls off of you and down to the floor. You step out of it, finally turning around to face Buck wearing nothing but your lacy white underwear. Surprisingly, there’s not an ounce of self consciousness in your body. The only thing you feel is desire.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Evan is completely speechless. His eyes rove over you, drinking in the sight in front of him, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers in awe, fingers itching to reach out and touch you. “The minute I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were real.”

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me, please.”

He grins, surging forward to cup your cheek with one hand while the other finds its home on your waist.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

“Finally.”

Buck leans in and presses his lips to yours surprisingly gently, testing the waters. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He gets the message, reeling you in and deepening the kiss until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

You’re being walked backwards and into the wall, pushed up against it for leverage. You hike a leg up over Bucks hip, groaning when the two of you grind forwards at the same time. His hands are everywhere - your face, tits, ass, waist - anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s not quite sure where he wants them, as if he’s worried he’ll leave somewhere untouched.

“You’re all I’ve thought about for two days,” he’s muttering into your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin. “Driving me crazy.”

“I got myself off last night,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks at the spot under your ear. “Thinking about you.”

“Fuck,” he moans, sinking down to his knees in front of you. “Tell me more. Please.”

It’s almost biblical, the sight of him. On his knees, practically begging, looking up at you like you’re his saviour. You’re dizzy with the power, blood rushing straight to your head.

Buck presses kisses into your leg, starting at your calves and moving up. When he gets to your inner thigh, he gazes up at you, pleading with his eyes for you to continue.

“Tell me more or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down and off.

“Okay, okay,” you pant, dropping your head back against the wall. “I, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about your arms in that shirt. The, the, the-”

You’re stuttering as he licks a stripe up your core, diving in with no hesitation. His fingers are gripping your thighs so hard you know it’ll bruise, and you can’t wait to feel the imprints in the morning.

“The?”

He’s pulled away to look at you with his brow quirked, dirty smirk etched across his face.

“Keep going, gorgeous. You haven’t even got to the good part. Neither of us have.”

You scoff at him in defiance, but slide your fingers into his hair to tug him back to where you want him.

“You looked so strong,” you continue, sighing when his tongue finds your core again. “Kept thinking about how easily you could throw me around. Pick me up, sit me on your face…”

Buck groans, all deep and rumbled, and the vibrations have your legs going weak. He doubles down on his efforts, slipping his tongue inside as his nose nudges your clit. He’s a fast learner, taking mental note of the spots and pressures that make your knees buckle.

“Keep going,” he mumbles into your core.

“You keep going,” you retort, pulling at his hair.

He chuckles but obliges your request, sucking your clit into his mouth with purpose. You’re shaking, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your climax. The moan you let out is borderline pornographic, and it has Buck palming himself over his suit trousers with a groan.

“Fuck, Evan,” you pant, chest heaving as you slump into the wall. “You need to grab me before I collapse. My legs are jelly.”

Laughing as he does it, he stands up and wraps his arms around your middle, holding you against him as tightly as he can.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Better than ever.”

He rests his lips on your forehead, both of you breathing each other in for a moment.

“Can’t believe you were right across the hallway from me, trying to be quiet while you were getting yourself off,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your back. “You should have come over here. I would have helped you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you tease, cupping his face in your hands. “I was still acting like I didn’t wanna rip your clothes off back then.”

“Knew you’d crack eventually,” he winks, grinning when you laugh.

You pull him into you for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, clearly telling him exactly what you want.

“You gonna fuck me, Evan? Or are we just gonna stand here all night?”

He shakes his head with a smirk before throwing you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce back off. As he starts to crawl over to you, you stop him with a foot on his chest.

“Nuh uh. You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Buckley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He’s standing up immediately, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off in one fell swoop. His boxers are next, leaving him stood bare and beautiful in front of you.

“Fuck. You’re not real,” you breathe out, eyes dancing over him.

“Oh I am so real,” he’s reassuring, situating himself on top of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down so you can grind your hips into his.

“I’ve been waiting two days for this,” you murmur into his lips. “Make it worth my while, please.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he teases, kissing you again with such a force that you’re dizzy.

Buck sucks a bruise into your collarbone, licking a stripe up your sternum and tasting the salt that sits on your skin. Your patience is wearing thinner and thinner, anticipation bubbling up in your veins.

“How’d you want it?” he whispers into your ear.

“Just- deep. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”

He groans, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.

“Anything you want, gorgeous. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the world.”

His lust drunk rambling makes you giggle, wiggling your hips into his to hopefully hurry him up. You tug at his hair, pulling his face so it’s level with yours.

“Now, Evan. Can’t wait any longer. Please.”

“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you beg.”

He lines himself up, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you connect. He’s big and he’s stretching you out just right and you think you might have died and gone to heaven. You both groan, panting into each others mouths.

“Fuck, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”

The baby sends warmth running through both your core and your heart, all the signals setting your nervous system on fire.

“Please,” you whimper, kissing him with desperation as you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull. “Please, Evan.”

“I’ve got you,” he’s mumbling, pulling his hips back and sliding them forwards with clear intent.

Reaching up beside your head, Buck pulls a pillow down and situates it under your hips, putting you where he wants you.

“Want you to feel me as deep as possible,” he murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. “Won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You can only moan at the promise, praying he delivers. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat covering his sun kissed skin, making him glow in the moonlight like some sort of angel. Sent just for you.

Buck sets a steady rhythm, not too fast but just fast enough. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and you ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest at the idea of him with another woman, even in the past.

Now that you’ve had a taste of this, you don’t want to let it go.

He’s pressing kisses onto whatever skin he can reach - your neck, your collarbone, underneath your ear. His hips never cease, determined to get you both to where you need to be. When he hitches one of your legs over his waist, you can’t help but drop your head back, eyes fluttering shut at the new angle.

He tilts his hips upwards, and hits a spot that has you keening. Speech has left you, and all you can do now is take it like you were made for it.

“Right there? Yeah? That’s it, isn’t it?”

You nod frantically, sucking in a shuddering breath like you’ve been under water. Your legs have started to shake, and Buck’s grinning when he thinks about how far he can push you before you’re at your limit.

“Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You’re so close you can taste it, desperate to find this release that’s been building for the last forty eight hours. When Buck moves his hand from your hip to your throat and squeezes just slightly, you snap.

You’re coming with a breathless moan, back arching into him to plaster your fronts together.

“Shit, you look so beautiful when you come. Jesus.”

You manage a soft smile, looking up at him to see those bright eyes staring into yours. He looks entranced, as if he’s staring at a piece in an art gallery. You swipe his hair back from his sweaty forehead, teasing your thumb across his bottom lip. When he sucks it into his mouth, your jaw drops open, mind foggy with arousal.

“Think you can give me another one? Let me see you come all pretty again?” he asks around your digit, tongue laving over your skin.

“Mhmm,” you’re agreeing before you can even process it, eager to please.

“That’s my girl.”

He moves your fingers from his mouth back into his hair as his find your throat once more, applying a little pressure. His hips pick up their pace, faster and harder than before. He’s fucking you into the mattress, strong arms keeping you from sliding off the bed.

He looks breathtaking, on top of you like this. He’s so broad, towering over you like he’ll shield you from the entire world if he has to. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the whole universe, unbothered by anything or anyone else.

“Buck- I… I-”

“I know, baby. Can feel it. Atta girl.”

You pull him down to kiss you as you reach your third climax of the night, arms wrapping around his neck so every inch of you is pressed together.

“There we go, good girl. That’s it, yeah. It’s yours, baby. It’s all yours.”

Buck finally finds his release, triggered by yours. His head drops into your neck, his frantic breath tickling your skin. You murmur sweet nothings into his ear, talking him through it as he shudders and shakes. Eventually, he collapses completely onto you, body weight pinning you down.

You’re both heaving for air, lungs burning as you try to regain an ounce of composure.

He murmurs something into your shoulder, the vibrations of it rumbling through your bones.

“Hmm?”

“You called me Buck.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, silvery and melodic.

“I’ve been trying not to for two days.”

“I know. You thought you were making a point.”

“I was making a point.”

“Sure, honey. Sure.”

“I hate you,” you grumble, but you can’t wipe the grin off your face. “I also hate that we’ve just made Lucy and Danny the happiest people ever.”

“Oh, shit. I hate it when they’re right.”

He pulls his head from your neck to look at you, resting his cheek against your chest so he can gaze up and into your eyes.

“I’m sure we can keep this a secret for a little while.”

“Yeah… we can’t.”

You quirk your brow at him in a silent question.

“I told Danny I was gonna marry you the minute you walked into the rehearsal dinner in that red dress. Can’t hide how I feel about you, gorgeous. It’s physically impossible.”

You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp.

“Take me on a date first. Then we’ll talk about marriage, okay?”

“You did say forever, earlier.”

“That I did. Maybe my heart knew something my brain didn’t.”

Buck grins up at you, all blinding and giddy.

“The best man and the maid of honour, huh?”

“That old cliche,” you chuckle. “We weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”

“You’ll be my last, gorgeous.”

“Real smooth, Buck. Real smooth.”

“Buck,” he whispers, half in amusement, half in awe.

He could get used to this. You both could.

as always, reblogs are like gold to writers. if you enjoyed this, please reblog!! it’s invaluable <3

@peachysink @jjamjamie @alipap3 @spookyysinsanity @sophiah2253 @annaaaaanguyenn

Day 15: “what are you wearing?” “it’s laundry day!”

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

When Spencer Reid opened the door to your shared apartment, he didn’t expect to hear the speakers in the living room blasting one of those modern songs he didn’t know the name of. You were home, that much was certain.

You had known each other for a few years, so it wasn’t difficult to agree to be roommates while Spencer found something permanent in the city. It was just his first year working for the FBI, and with the expenses required for his mother in the sanatorium, everything was becoming more financially complicated. Your parents, who already knew he was a good man, preferred to host that tenant rather than anyone else.

Your roommate tried to call out to let you know he was there, but thanks to the music, you had no hearing. Resigned, he tried to walk over to lower the volume, and that’s when he saw you.

You were holding a basket full of clothes, but the peculiar thing about the situation was that you were only wearing the bottom part of what he assumed was a bikini. Reid let out a scream at the sight of you, and you almost dropped the laundry you were holding, which would have completely exposed your tits.

“Jeez!, what are you wearing?”

“It’s laundry day!” you shouted back, as if trying to justify yourself. Spencer had already covered the side of his face with his hand, a clear sign that he didn’t plan on looking at you.

“And why are you naked?!”

“I’m not naked, Spencer. Almost.”

“It’s the same thing! Put… put on some clothes, please.”

“Have you never seen a naked woman?”

“No! I mean, yes! Just… put something on, will you?”

“You’ll have to lend me some clothes. All my clothes are in the washer.”

“Take whatever you want from my wardrobe, okay?” He couldn’t see you, but from the sounds he heard, he assumed you had dropped the pile of clothes and then headed to his room.

The young man felt his heart racing beneath his chest, and for a second, he wondered if it would be wise to leave, stay, lock himself in his room, and never talk about this again, or simply laugh at the situation.

A minute later, he heard footsteps coming back, and he hoped with all his heart that when he removed his hand from his face, he wouldn’t find you in an indecent state again. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case, but the image in front of him was still worse.

“You seldom wear these,” you observed slyly, extending the bottom of the oversized T-shirt you were wearing.

It had a faded print of a national park or something, and it was huge on you. Below, you were wearing joggers that Spencer doubted even belonged to him, as he had never dressed in things like that. He would probably donate them after this.

But Spencer didn’t feel shocked by the clothes; he was shocked by the person wearing them. The T-shirt made it clear that you were still wearing nothing beneath it, and just seeing you in something of his sent a shiver down his spine.

He lied when he said he had seen naked women. He hadn’t seen any—well, unless the beach and television counted.

“Do you know how dangerous it is for you to walk around like that? Some pervert could spy on you through the window, or if there’s an emergency and you have to leave, how will you do it?”

“Oh, calm down, honey. I knew you were the only one with keys to the apartment, all the curtains are closed, and I highly doubt that if there’s an emergency, anyone would notice me,” you laughed, as if it weren’t a big deal.

You watched him for a second, as if waiting for him to say something more, but you continued to receive that expression of disapproval.

“Just be more careful, okay?”

“I will,” you said calmly as you approached to hug him. “And I’d like you to come in with a: Hi, good afternoon, I’m back, how are you? Instead of that scream you let out.”

“I would have greeted you that way if it hadn’t been for your music blasting. One day you’re going to go deaf.”

“Oh, uh-huh.”

You had already started to walk in the other direction, but he, dissatisfied, followed you.

“I’m serious! There’s a study that proves it. Loud sounds can damage the parts of the inner ear that detect sound and send signals to the brain…”

“Do you want to wash your clothes too?” you interrupted, turning to look at him. He almost bumped into you. “There’s still space in my laundry load. That shirt you’re wearing right now looks a bit dirty.”

“You’re right, it is,” he reflected, looking down at a coffee stain. “Let me go change and I’ll be right back to give it to you, okay?”

He couldn’t see you shake your head, and he also couldn’t hear your reproachful words as if something displeased you. The matter was forgotten, at least for that afternoon, and you both continued with your usual tasks. Spencer ordered Japanese food for dinner, and you shared a pleasant time before going to bed. You had his clothes on the entire time.

The next day, when Derek and Elle approached to talk to him, Reid couldn’t help but tell them about the scandalous scene he had encountered upon arriving home, hoping to rid himself of the feeling of embarrassment that had arisen in him.

Unfortunately, it was quite the opposite because both agents increased their smiles as he progressed with the story.

“My boy, I think that was a pretty direct hint.”

“What do you mean?” he murmured, looking genuinely lost. Elle just gave him an amused look, almost pitying, for Morgan to continue speaking.

“She didn’t want to do laundry! She was probably looking for something more.”

Spencer frowned and showed a thoughtful expression. The woman beside him laughed and intervened to save him.

“What Morgan is trying to say is that maybe it wasn’t an accident that you found her in that state. She knows what time you usually arrive, right?”

“Yes. But why would she want to be naked when I got here?”

His two friends shared an amused and conspiratorial look, unable to believe that a guy as intelligent as Spencer could be so bad at picking up signals.

“Maybe because she wanted you to see her naked…” Morgan began, hoping he could connect the dots. “Because she likes you, maybe?”

The young man felt all the blood rush to his cheeks. I mean, that biologically wasn’t possible, or otherwise he would die, but for this case, a hyperbole is quite valid.

“You mean she wanted… to do it with me?”

“Bingo! We have a winner.”

He didn’t even know why he had told his work colleagues that. At that precise moment, he was quite regretful for having even opened his mouth.

“But… but she’s not like that. Why would she...? She can’t like me; it must be something else.”

“Oh, come on, Reid. Is it that hard for you to accept that that skinny body and your deer eyes can conquer a woman?” Elle murmured, entertained by how things had developed.

Those two could see the gears turning in the younger man's head.

“Do you think I should talk to her? Ask her?”

“Are you crazy or something? Of course not!”

“Then what do I do?” he implored Elle, feeling completely ignorant on the one topic he couldn’t study: women.

“Return the favor,” Morgan suggested with a shrug. “You know, the next time you do laundry, just stay in your underwear, wait for her to arrive, and voila. Maybe being on the other side, she’ll dare to do what you won’t.”

“Oh God, this is horrible,” the young man lamented, hiding his flushed face between his hands. At that moment, the three were called by Chief Gideon, and they had no choice but to get up and go to the conference room. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Calm down, kid. Who do you think we are?” Morgan reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. A second later, he saw Agent Aaron pass by. “Hotch! Guess what Reid just did…”

“Morgan!” he shouted, rushing forward to prevent his embarrassing secret from becoming public knowledge.

Feeling somewhat fearful, he followed the advice his coworker had given him, and he didn’t need to ponder much about the question he had in mind. You definitely liked him.

the lucky one

"they still tell the legend of how you disappeared."

pairing: max verstappen x fem!driver

BREAKING NEWS: Mercedes announces driver's retirement 1 week before the season is set to start. The team will hold an emergency press conference to address the driver's departure; says driver will not be in attendance.

zero. the woman, the myth, the legend

one. you look like...

@angsthology cause this plot almost sort of sprung from our brain rot conversations from like a whole year ago... the song just awoke something in me

@foreveralbon @vroomvroomcircuit @scuderia-piastri (unfortunately, i've been away so long that i do not remember if i even had a general taglist in the first place...)

press start! — what are the odds (7/22)

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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All I want is you

Hunter × f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3k

Summary: Hunter is used to sharing everything with his brothers and he is determined if this is what he has to do to get you he will do it. But deep down he can’t deny that he wants you all to himself.

Notes: Welp, I have no idea how my writers block ended in a sunday afternoon session with 3000 words but here we are. This fic is directly inspired by @stellarbit “Unexpected Scenes” (linked at the bottom) It was incredibly hot but all I could think about was poor Hunter just wanting to fuck. So here are 3k words of shameless and completely self indulgent Hunter smut. There is masturbation, stripping, oral/m recieving, unprotected sex/f on top and a hint of exhibitionism kink if you squint. Also, men that moan are hot and I will die on that hill. All my Hunter girlies, come get your man.

Hunter had always been used to sharing everything with his brothers-their victories, their losses, their rations, their ship and even sometimes their women. It was part of being a squad, part of their bond. He loved them, and he didn't mind the constant closeness, the way they worked as a unit. But then you walked into Cid's parlor one evening, and everything changed.

Somehow, you never left and quickly became an unexpected but perfect fit for their ragtag group. They needed the extra help, and you needed work-it was a simple arrangement at first.

What Hunter didn't expect was the effect you'd have on him. It started with the small things, like your soft smiles that seemed to light up the room, or the way you casually touched his arm when you talked, sending a jolt of warmth through him.

He wasn't used to someone outside of his brothers being so tactile, so... comfortable with him. But it was more than that. The way you fit into the squad so effortlessly, laughing at Wrecker's jokes, discussing tactics with Tech, or quietly listening to Echo's stories-it all drew him in.

And then there was your scent. That sweet, intoxicating smell that seemed to linger in the air whenever you were around. It was especially noticeable in close quarters on the Marauder, and Hunter, with his heightened senses, couldn't ignore it.

He tried to tell himself it was nothing, just a byproduct of the close quarters and the stress of the missions. But deep down, he knew better. The smell of your arousal when you were around them was unmistakable, and it drove him wild. He wanted you so badly, in ways he had never wanted anyone before. But he wasn't the only one. He noticed how Tech looked at you when he explained something in his usual precise manner, the way you and Wrecker leaned a little closer when he made you laugh, or the way your eyes lingered on Crosshair's sharp features and his on you when you were cleaning your gun. Hunter wasn't blind. He could see the way you interacted with each of them, and it killed him to think that he wasn't the only one you were drawn to.

He knew, deep down, that if he ever had a chance with you, he would have to share you with his brothers. It never mattered with any woman before but now it was a bitter pill to swallow. But the idea of having you all to himself, of not having to divide your attention, was a fantasy he allowed himself in the quiet moments. Moments like this.

The Marauder had docked a while ago, and the others including you had all gone inside Cid's parlor, eager for a brief respite and maybe a strong drink. But Hunter had stayed behind, needing some time alone, drowning himself in your scent that still filled the air. He had made himself comfortable in the pilot's seat, his thoughts wandering to you as they often did the last days. He imagined what it would be like to have you here with him, just the two of you. No brothers, no missions-just you.

His hand moved to the waistband of his pants almost unconsciously, the need to relieve the tension that had been building for weeks overwhelming him. As he stroked himself, he pictured your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you talked to him, the way you smelled when you were near. He imagined how it would feel to have you straddle him in this very chair, your bodies pressed together as you moved against him, your scent filling his senses, drowning him in desire.

He bit back a groan, his pace quickening as he imagined your soft moans in his ear, your hands running through his hair, your lips pressing against his neck. He wanted you so badly, more than he had ever wanted anything. But he also knew that it wasn't just desire. It was more than that. He cared about you deeply. He wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, to make you happy. And if that meant sharing you with his brothers, then so be it. But in moments like this, when it was just him and his thoughts, he allowed himself to dream of a different reality, one where you were his and his alone.

His breath hitched as he felt himself getting closer, the image of you in his mind so vivid it almost felt real. He imagined your body arching beneath him, your lips parted in pleasure as you whispered his name. It was too much.

He felt the telltale signs of his climax approaching, his breathing growing ragged, his strokes becoming desperate. But just as he was about to reach that sweet point of no return, something pulled him out of his heated fantasies and yanked him back to reality-footsteps.

They were light, too light to be any of his brothers. Panic surged through him. It had to be you.

His heart pounded in his chest as he hastily tucked his cock back into his pants, his hands fumbling in a rush. He tried to remain silent, hoping that maybe you had just forgotten something on the ship and would leave without noticing him. But the footsteps grew closer, echoing up the ramp of the Marauder, and all hope of remaining hidden evaporated when he heard you call his name.

"Hunter?"

Your voice was soft, questioning, but with an edge of concern that made his gut twist.

He stayed silent for a moment, his mind racing, trying to think of an excuse, an explanation-anything that would cover up what he had been doing. But when you called for him again, a bit more insistently this time, he knew he couldn't avoid you any longer.

"I'm here," he finally answered, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears.

Before he could even try to compose himself, you appeared in the cockpit, your eyes scanning the small space until they landed on him. He could see your gaze travel over him, taking in his disheveled appearance-the flushed look on his face, his hair slightly tousled, the sweat beading on his forehead, the way his codpiece hung loose on one side, and the unmistakable bulge still straining against his pants.

Your eyes widened but he saw you bite your lip for a split second, your control slipping ever so slightly. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension in the air thick and palpable.

"I - I'm sorry" you stuttered, your cheeks flushing as you averted your gaze, clearly flustered.

"I just... I wanted to check on you. You seemed distracted the last few days, and I was worried, but-"

You gestured vaguely, looking back at him with an awkward smile.

"I'll leave. I didn't mean to invade your privacy."

Hunter noticed the way your eyes flickered to the bulge in his pants again before you quickly looked away. His mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions - embarrassment, confusion, but also an undeniable surge of desire. You turned to leave, clearly intent on giving him space, but something in him couldn't let you go.

"Wait," he blurted out, his voice stopping you in your tracks.

You turned back, looking at him with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

"Stay?" he asked, the words leaving his mouth before he could fully process them.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implication. Hunter watched as your eyes met his, searching for something in his gaze. He could see the hesitation in your expression, but also something else - a flicker of interest, maybe even a hint of desire. Your lips parted as if you were about to say something, but no words came out.

Hunter stood up, the weight of what was happening between you hanging in the air, his heart raced. The reality of the situation settled over him, making the air feel thick with anticipation. He knew this was a dangerous line he was about to cross, one that could change everything between you. But the thought of turning back now, of denying the connection that had been simmering between you for so long, felt impossible.

"Come here," he said softly, motioning for you to step closer.

You hesitated for only a second before you obeyed, your movements cautious but deliberate. As you approached, Hunter couldn't help but notice the way your breathing had quickened, your chest rising and falling a bit more rapidly, mirroring his own rising anticipation.

When you were close enough, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm.

The contact sent a jolt through both of you, and Hunter could feel the tremor in your muscles, the same tension he felt coursing through his own body.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering to his lips, then down to the still evident bulge in his pants and back up to meet his eyes. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, but also a desire that matched your own.

You took a deep breath, as if steeling yourself for what was to come, and then you leaned in. The kiss you pressed to his lips was tentative at first, testing the waters, but when Hunter responded, pulling you closer, it deepened, turning into something more heated, more desperate. It was a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken words, the longing that had been building between you for so long.

Hunter's hands moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he tilted your head to deepen the kiss. He could taste the sweetness of your lips, feel the warmth of your body pressed against his. And for a moment, all the doubts and fears melted away, leaving only the two of you and the intensity of the moment.

But when the kiss finally broke, leaving you both breathless, Hunter couldn’t think clear anymore, he wasn't sure where this would lead, or how things would change between you and the squad, but right now, he didn't care. All he knew was that he wanted you here, now, and for as long as you would have him.

You leaned in, capturing his lips again in a heated kiss, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. He groaned into the kiss, his hands finding your waist, holding you tight against him.

"I want you," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and husky, full of desire.

"But I know... I’ll have to share you with my brothers."

You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes with a soft smile.

"You're a sweet, silly man Hunter," you whispered, your fingers brushing against his jaw.

Before he could respond, you pushed him back into the pilot's chair, straddling him with a confident ease that made his heart race.

You ground down on him, your hips rolling against his and your core pressing against his bulge. You felt your panties were already soaking wet.

Your breath was hot against his ear as you leaned in to whisper,

"All I want is you." as you ground down again.

The moan that escaped him was deep and sinful, the sound of it making your core tighten with anticipation. You could feel how hard he was beneath you, the thickness of his cock pressing against your core through the fabric of his pants. You wanted more - needed more.

You let yourself slide down between his knees and looked up at him through your lashes, your hands moving up his thighs and over his bulge. Hunter's breath hitched as you freed him from his confines, his cock springing out, thick and beautiful. The soft caramel tone of his skin glowing in the last rays of light that came in through the viewport.

You licked your lips at the sight, your mouth watering in anticipation.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," you murmured, wrapping your hand around his length, giving him a few slow, deliberate pumps that made him groan.

"I've wanted to taste you for so long."

"Stars, cyar'ika," Hunter breathed, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as he watched you.

You leaned in, your tongue flicking out to lick the tip, tasting the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there and oh did he taste heavenly. His whole body shuddered at the sensation, his head falling back against the seat. You took him into your mouth, inch by inch, savoring the way he filled you, the taste of him driving you wild.

Hunter's moans grew louder, his breathing more ragged as you worked him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head, your hand pumping the base in time with your movements. You could feel him tensing beneath you, his thighs trembling as he got closer and closer to the edge and the lewd moans falling from his lips were the sweetest sound.

But just as he was about to tip over, you pulled back, releasing him with a soft pop.

Hunter's eyes snapped open, and he looked down at you with a mixture of frustration and desperate need, beeing so close to his orgasm for the second time.

He let out a low whine at the loss of your warm mouth.

"Don’t worry, I'm not done with you yet," you said with a teasing smile.

You stood up, taking a few steps back to give him a full view of you.

Slowly, deliberately, you began to undress yourself, peeling off each piece of clothing and letting it fall to the floor. Hunter's eyes were glued to you, his gaze dark with desire, his cock twitching at the sight of your bare skin and he was barely holding on, barely keeping himself from coming then and there.

When you were completely naked, you took a moment to let him drink you in, your body exposed and vulnerable but feeling powerful under his intense gaze. Hunter looked like he was about to lose control, his knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping the armrests.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice full of awe but laced with a need that was almost desperate.

"So soft... I want to feel every inch of you."

He had lost count of how often he imagined you like this, your glowing skin, the soft swell of your breasts, the curves of your hips he wanted to grip so hard he would leave bruises, but nothing came close to the reality and he was sure he was loosing his mind.

You moved back to him, straddling his lap once more. His hands were on you immediately, caressing your thighs, your hips, your waist, as you positioned yourself above him.

And with a long, drawn-out moan, you slowly sank down onto him, feeling the stretch as he filled you completely.

Hunter's head fell back with a groan when he was sheathed fully inside you, the warmth and tightness of your body overwhelming his senses. You stayed like this for a moment, just feeling each other, the connection between you so deep and intense it was almost too much.

"Feels so good" you murmured, your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you began to move.

You started riding him, your hips rolling and grinding in a rhythm that had him seeing stars. His hands moved to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Hunter's gaze was fixed on you, watching the way your breasts bounced with each movement, the way your face twisted in pleasure.

His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles that made your mind go blank and drowned out everything but him.

You threw your head back, a moan ripping from your throat as the pleasure built and built until you couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Hunter, if you keep doing that I’m going to come», you panted, your movements becoming more erratic as the coil inside you tightened.

"Come for me, cyar'ika,"

Hunter urged, his voice strained, his own control slipping as he felt you tightening around him.

"Let me feel you come around me, come on my cock."

That was all it took. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his back and your body spasming around him as the orgasm ripped through you, wave after wave of intense pleasure that left you trembling in his arms. Hunter was right there with you, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you through it as he buried himself deeper inside you.

You were still riding the aftershocks of your orgasm when you leaned down, pressing your forehead against his.

"Hunter, I want you to come inside me," you whispered, your breath warm against his lips.

"Please, Hunter, make me yours."

He groaned at your words, his hands moving to grip your ass as he thrust up into you with renewed intensity. His breath came in harsh pants, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.

And then, with a low, guttural moan of your name, he came, gripping you tight and spilling himself deep inside you. You could feel the warmth of his release filling you, the sensation only prolonging your pleasure as you clenched around him, milking him for every drop.

You stayed like that for a moment, both of you breathless and spent, your sweaty bodies clinging to each other in the aftermath. Hunter's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.

"That was.." Hunter trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Incredible," you finished for him, your lips brushing against his ear as you nuzzled closer.

You both stayed there for a few moments longer, your hearts slowly returning to a normal rhythm, your breaths evening out. It felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the connection between you stronger than ever.

Hunter glanced over your shoulder, his eyes catching onto the intercom panel, it was still blinking, switched on. He immediately knew, if any of his brothers had their helmets on they heard everything that happened inside the ship. He looked back at you, his expression softening as he brought a hand up to cup your cheek.

"Say what you said earlier, if you meant it" he murmured, his voice low and full of unspoken need.

You looked into his eyes, understanding immediately what he was asking for. Your lips curved into a soft smile as you leaned closer, brushing your nose against his.

"I want only you," you whispered, your words filled with sincerity.

Hunter’s eyes darkened with emotion, his grip on you tightening slightly as he pulled you closer.

"Say you’re mine," he breathed, his voice almost pleading, like he needed to hear it, needed to claim you in the most profound way.

Your heart fluttered at the intensity in his gaze, and you pressed your forehead against his, your voice steady and full of conviction.

"I’m yours, Hunter. Yours."

He let out a deep sigh, a sound of pure contentment, as if your words had lifted a weight from his shoulders. His eyes flicked to the blinking intercom one last time, a slow smile spreading across his lips before he pulled you even closer, his lips finding yours in a deep, lingering kiss.

The kiss was full of everything you had just promised each other—of possession, desire, and an overwhelming sense of belonging. Hunter kissed you like he never wanted to let you go, and you responded with equal intensity, melting into him as your bodies pressed together, hearts beating in sync.

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Unexpected Scenes

Word Count: 4.4k Pairing: fem!reader x Tech (with a side of simp Hunter oops) Warnings: unprotected piv, masturbating, voyeurism, creampie,