Would you like to write a fanfic like "All Backstreet Boys with Eminem"?
BAHAHSHDHD I’m assuming you mean like an orgy….or at least that's how I'm interpreting it. If you meant something PG then I apologize in advance 😇
Anyway YES. I actually have written one (nowhere near finished yet tho).
I make Marshall Mathers the Backstreet Boys’ cute little sub.
Um yeah. It’s gonna be hot. I’m turning it into a whole series that branches off my Howie × Marshall fic.
Here’s a snippet from it, I'm not sure if I’m keeping this exact scene, I think I’ve got a new direction, but y’all can have this anyway:
Marshall was already breathless when the door opened—which was unfair, considering Howie hadn’t even touched him the way he wanted.
He was on his knees, the carpet pressing into his legs, chest rising and falling faster than he could control. His lips were glossy, swollen, the kind of wet red that made it embarrassingly obvious Howie had been reminding him who he belonged to.
All Howie had done was murmur a low, steady, “Don’t move,” and drag his thumb across Marshall’s bottom lip, exploring, testing—feeling out exactly how soft he could make him.
And apparently… it was soft enough.
Marshall tried to hold onto his attitude, tried to keep that sharp, defensive edge he always hid behind. But the moment Howie leaned down close enough for Marshall to feel his warm breath on his jaw and whispered, quiet and certain, “Good boy… just like that,” something in him melted into liquid heat, spreading from his chest down through his legs.
He didn’t even hear the footsteps at first. Just the pounding of his own pulse in his ears.
Then the door clicked open. More footsteps. More eyes.
Brian froze with a stunned inhale; AJ swore under his breath; Kevin’s eyebrow lifted like he’d walked into something he’d predicted hours ago; and Nick… Nick looked a little too interested for Marshall’s fragile composure.
And Marshall—caught under Howie’s thumb, lips parted, face tilted up exactly where Howie wanted it, that slow, dangerous smile aimed straight at him—realized something terrifyingly delicious:
And somehow, without even trying, without fighting it, he had become the center of their attention, the reason none of them could look away, knees pressed into the carpet, chest rising, lips glossy and swollen, utterly exposed.
blakekathryn
areudirty
yousharknotpass
kianamaiart
pixelskylines
