#and putting all this pressure on it is getting in the way of me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nochepsicodelica · 2 days ago

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It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

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milkmily · 3 days ago

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Can I have a request for Mr scarletella with female reader is on top of him? (Smut) 👀

Inspired of this:

https://x.com/phoenix_0524/status/1858542195609043209

All yours

ᝰ.ᐟ❣️⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr.Scarletella x Fem reader

SMUT oh my lord 🫣 and yes you may hehehehehe imma make him in that route where he forgets everything. But he's pretending 😏 just so he can be with Reader. Honestly i feel like he faked to forget everything because that was really ig the only way to get with MC like come ONNNN I need someone to write a fanfic about ITTTT

Mr. Scarletella. All under your control.

Isn't that just amazing?

He was so obsessed with you, madly in love with you, chased you everywhere and for what? For your name. Just so he can have your soul and have you under his control.

And now, it's different. He had forgotten everything, himself, his name, even you. His purpose is now long forgotten. And you gave him one. To be yours and to listen to everything you tell him to do like as if he was your own pet. You had him like a puppy with a leash around his beautiful neck. He was under your control.

And here he is, whining and Whimpering as he humps the bed while he eats your pussy. “So good…ah fuck!” You moan and push his face further on to your pussy lips. Mr Scarletella held on to your thighs tightly as he sucked on your clit. You moan and arch your back. He opens his eyes and looks at your face as you moan and whine. He sunk his nails into your skin as he ate your pretty cunt. He whines as he feels a tug at his hair. “Don't do that.” You say in such a cold tone that it makes him shiver and he loses his grip a bit. He nods and kisses your pussy lips. “I sorry.” He spoke.

You smiled and pulled his face Away. “Hmm, you were so good to me today.” You spoke and tilt your head. “Maybe you deserve a reward.” You spoke. He didn't understand half Of what you said except for good and reward. He knew he'd be getting what he has been wanting because he's been good to you. Loyal to you. Like always and will always be.

He lays down on the bed as you gently pull down his pants. His cock jumped out, already wet from his own precum from when he humped the bed. You still had your white coat on. You had planned to go out and murder but it seems There were other plans. You get on top of him and sit down on his cock, his cock in between your wet folds. He shivers and looks at you. He softly gasps as he feels your hips move back and forth on his cock. He needs to be inside of you so good. He's been good all day. Why can't he be inside of you? It's driving him absolutely crazy.

“Not yeeet~” you sang as your wet juices coat his hard cock. You giggled as his hands tried to grip on anything. He knew he couldn't grip on your hips And rock you back and forth. That would just ruin the reward he was going to Get. He has to be good to you. But his poor cock is begging to be wrapped with your wet cunt. He starts to move his hips with yours as he gasps and groans. You put more pressure on your hips to lower his own to prevent them from moving. You shake your head as you whimper And giggle.

After some rubbing And teasing, you stood up and grabbed his cock, seeing how wet you got him, your juices mixed with his precum. Finally, oh! Finally, he can be inside of you and feel your warm and wet walls suck him in. You positioned his cock at your aching pussy and sank in it. He jolted up, goosebumps all over his body as he let out a whine. You whimper as you feel him stretch you out and sit down fully on it.

You gasp and start to move your hips back and forth slowly. He holds on to the bed sheets as you ride his cock. You moan and move your hips faster. His cock just felt so good. He whines and throws his head back as you move faster and faster. You move your face closer to him to Look at him. “You feel so good…ah oh my-” you moan. Your chest pressing against his as you move your ass up and down. He groans and looks at you with a grin on your face. You moan and bring him in for a kiss. He whimpered and slipped his tongue in your mouth. Saliva drooling to the corner of his mouth as he kissed you.

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting you two as you moan. He held on to your hips as he looked at you. You look so beautiful right now. So gorgeous. You felt so good and you made him feel good too. He wants you forever, he wants this feeling forever and ever. With you and only. You were starting to get tired from all the moving so he lips his hips up and moved them up and down, your eyes went wide as his cock was brushing just where you wanted it to. You moan louder at every thrust. He looked up at you and brought one of your Nipples into his mouth as he sucked on it, his eyes closed. He lets out a muffled whine as his Hips thrusts become more harsher and faster.

You cup the breast he was sucking and pull it away, earning a whine from him. You moaned and brought the wet and hard nipple back into his sweet warm mouth. He knew you were close by how your pussy was starting to squeeze him, the way your moans turned louder and louder at each thrust. He waa close to himself Too. He groaned as he felt you put more weight on his hips, causing him to stop. He pulled away from your tit and looked at you. But you had your eyes closed as you rode his cock, your mouth opened as you let out those sweet, sweet sounds. “Oh, ah- I'm close I'm-” you scream as you bite your lip and moan. You keep riding him faster until you cum on his cock, covering His cock with your juices. He grabbed your his and moved them for you, cuming inside of you right after. He groaned and jolted his hips up as he filled your pussy up with his warm cum. You two were breathless and tried to catch your breath as you stayed there for a couple of seconds. You whine and stand up from his cock, his cum and yours dripping out of your pussy down to his lower stomach. You grabbed some tissues the best you could and cleaned yourself and him.

You lay down on the bed as you pant and try to catch your breath. You needed to stand up though. Get ready to go out. You needed blood. But you felt so exhausted, your legs sore. You felt Mr Scarletella's hand on your hips and his lips on your ear behind you. “Want your name.” He whispers. You quickly turn around and see the grin on his face.

Oh.

He never forgot.

He simply pretended to.

But you liked that and grinned.

“I'm not giving it to you.” You say as you grab his face with one hand, a tight hold on it that had him grinning more. “You're all mine. You said so.”

“You, mine.” You spoke in his language that caused him to shiver. “Me like you.” he said. “Me like you.” You say back.

Guys I'm sorry it's taking me a while to post 😔 i shall try to catch up. Love you all hehehehe❤️

#mr scarletella x reader #homicipher mr scarletella #homicipher x mc #homicipher headcanons #homicipher fanfiction #homicipher x reader #mr scarletella #x reader smut #smut #x you #homicipher #x reader

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girlgenius1111 · 2 days ago

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Ingrid Engen, “oh that doesn’t feel quite right”, at Home

---

Ingrid was, among many things, easy to celebrate. She was about as close to perfect as a human could get. Or, at least, you thought so. You’d pestered her about what she wanted to do for her birthday for weeks in advance, and though she kept saying she was fine with anything as long as she was with you, you were very determined to plan a day full of things she loved.

First, you both slept in, waking up just before noon still entangled with each other from the night before. Then, you’d gone for coffee and lunch at her favorite place in the city. She’d called her parents and her siblings after that, chatting for a while and opening the gifts they’d sent ahead. You’d put on her favorite movie once she was off the phone, curling up against her on the sofa as she watched, mumbling some of the words from memory under her breath.

Next up was cooking dinner together, again her favorite meal on the menu. The gifts you’d gotten her were set on the bed, a small cake hidden in the back of the fridge so you could sing to her. Everything had gone perfectly according to plan.

And then, as you were cutting the vegetables for dinner at the counter, the knife slipped.

“Oh!” You gasped, dropping the knife down with a clatter.

“Love?” Ingrid asked, turning away from the stove, peering at your back. You’d gone completely still.

“That… that doesn’t feel right.” You mumbled, clutching your finger tightly in your other hand.

“What doesn’t–?” Ingrid cut herself off as you turned around, blood already staining your shirt, dripping down onto the ground underneath you. “Oh my god!”

“Ow,” you stated, voice completely devoid of any feeling or inflection. Ingrid rushed towards you, her hand gripping your shoulder in an attempt to steady you. Your girlfriend knew how you were with blood.

You weren’t really thinking about the blood, though, because you knew whatever the state of your finger was… it wasn’t good.

The knife had slipped. It had stung. You’d dropped the knife, and without really looking at your finger, you’d gripped it in your other hand tightly. It was bleeding heavily, but something in you refused to unwrap your hand from around your finger, refused to look at the damage.

“Let me see.” Ingrid instructed, her brows knitted together in concern.

Still, your hand remained wrapped around your injured finger. Partially because you knew it would hurt like hell the minute you took pressure off it, and also because you weren’t convinced that you wouldn’t be missing part of your fingertip.

“Ingrid,” You exhaled, shaking your head and looking at your girlfriend with fear written across your face.

“It’s going to be okay love, just let me see.”

With a bit more gentle coaxing, you shut your eyes tightly and let go of your finger. Ingrid bit her lip to stop a gasp from escaping, more than a little horrified by the injury. You had a massive gash cutting into the top of your index finger, and there was blood pouring from the wound. Ingrid was surprised that the tip of your finger was still attached, and she knew it needed medical attention immediately. Your eyes were still shut, though there were tears starting to make their way down your face.

Ingrid grabbed a clean towel from the drawer, uncaring that she got blood on the white cabinets, and wrapped your hand up tightly in it.

“Is it bad?” You asked.

Ingrid hesitated, but knew there was no use lying. “It’s not great, but we’ll go to the hospital and they’ll stitch you right up.”

You whimpered pathetically at the thought of stitches, but even though you hadn’t actually seen the injury, you knew it needed them. Opening your eyes, you found Ingrid looking right at you, a reassuring look on her face. Without another word, you allowed Ingrid to guide you out of the apartment, into the elevator and down to the car.

Maybe you were going into shock or something, because all you could think was that you’d probably let Ingrid take you anywhere. Even to the hospital, where they’d thread a needle through your skin and put you back together. Anywhere.

—

You could feel Ingrid’s eyes on you as she pulled to a stop at a red light, yet you didn’t turn towards her. Your finger still throbbed with pain, the medication they’d given you at the hospital not having kicked in yet. Your hand was wrapped up in an enormous amount of gauze and bandages, which felt a bit overkill.

Thought after thought was rushing through your brain, all of them centered around trying to salvage Ingrid’s birthday, which you were absolutely sure you’d completely ruined. Still, it must have looked like you were in pain, because Ingrid was still looking at you worriedly.

“What are you thinking, min kjære?” She wondered, her hand reaching over to rest on your knee.

Turning towards her, you blinked hard at the tears that were rapidly accumulating in your eyes. “Nothing! If you want, we can go out to dinner. Or I could go get your favorite from–”

“Are you crying?” Ingrid interrupted, brow furrowing with worry even as she fixed her attention back on the road in front of her. “Does it hurt?”

Her voice was dripping with sympathy, and you resisted the urge to sigh.

“No, I’m fine.” You insisted. “For dinner–”

“Love, I don’t care about dinner. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t! Don’t worry about me. It’s your birthday and I’ve already ruined it, I don’t want to make it worse, so please just tell me where you want to go to dinner.” Your voice was trembling, your need to make up for messing up such a special day overwhelming you.

“You haven’t ruined anything!” Ingrid exclaimed, pulling the car over to the side of the road and turning to look at you sadly. “Love, you didn’t ruin my birthday. You didn’t almost cut your finger off on purpose.”

You huffed out a laugh that turned into some kind of sob, and Ingrid didn’t hesitate to unbuckle her seatbelt and lean over the center console to pull you into a hug.

“You have not ruined anything, baby. Truly. We can do dinner another night and it will be just as special. I just want you to be okay.” Ingrid murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

“I’m okay,” you sniffled into her neck, quite aware how ironic and completely unbelievable you sounded.

The Norwegian pulled away, placing both her hands on your cheeks. Her thumbs swept away a few tears, before she leaned in and gently kissed you. “You’re in pain and that was an awful, terrifying experience and I can tell you just want to go home to bed. So let’s do that, hmm?”

You nodded begrudgingly, well aware that now Ingrid knew how upset you were, there was no way on earth or in heaven that she would allow you to go anywhere but home to bed. And you couldn’t lie, that was truly all you wanted.

Ingrid kissed you once more, before putting the car back in drive and pulling onto the road again. Her hand remained intertwined with your uninjured one, her thumb tracing circles over the back of it.

“You know,” you began after a few minutes. “I still have a working hand. And working fingers.”

Ingrid laughed, the sound melodic, bringing butterflies to your stomach no matter how many times you heard it. “We can put your good hand to work tomorrow, if you’re feeling better.”

You sank back into the passenger seat with a grin, the promise of tomorrow’s activities improving your mood greatly. Or maybe, that was just Ingrid improving your mood. Even when you felt like you were at your worst, she was always able to make you feel like things weren’t so bad. Mostly because if you were with her, things couldn’t be bad. This situation wasn’t any different.

---

#ingrid engen x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine

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bucketbueckers · 2 days ago

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mess me up - paige bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 6.1k content warnings: language, abuse of italics, grammatically incorrect past tense flashback, smut robbery(?), pretty mature but nothing graphic synopsis: your friends invited you out to a frat party to celebrate the men’s team winning the NCAA tournament where you bump into paige bueckers, the girl who you're in love with and who you ghosted for a month after hooking up with her. a much-needed conversation at the party forces you to revisit difficult memories and give her the closure she’s been seeking. notes: idk what this is! based loosely off of 'friends' and 'mess me up' by chase atlantic. unfortunately the smut robbery line is for real, like it's smut in the way lacroix tastes like real fruit (which is to say it's not smut, but like concepts of smut... 😝 (i've never had lacroix idk if this is accurate)) side note i hate writing in past tense but doing a traditional flashback scene is corny as hell! idk if it matters but this is set april 2024 (w/ a february 2024 flashback); doesn't really affect anything, so... anyway, second post on tumblr, lmk if we're rocking w it 🙂‍↕️

For the record, you didn’t want to come to this party.

It’s hot, sweaty, loud, and all you can smell is the same brand of men’s cologne and weed. The air is both stale and somehow feels wet and all you can think about is getting back to your apartment so you can shower and go to bed. You had a mock trial bright and early the next morning and your law professor was a stickler for punctuality and presentability – showing up with wrinkled clothes and smelling like a frat party was a sure-fire way to fail, and you had too much riding on your grades to let that happen.

The frat (whose name you’ve already forgotten) was celebrating the NCAA tournament win for the UCONN men’s basketball team. They’d apparently gone back to back, which you guess is cool, but you swore off basketball a long time ago. If you had your way, you’d be at home, three steps into your skincare routine, but you let peer pressure get the best of you and allowed your friends to drag you out.

It’d be fun, they said. You never come out with us! You’re spending all this tuition money and you’re not even taking advantage of it. How can you say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?

You only remember that your friends are law students, too, in the most unfortunate of moments when they put their persuasiveness to the test. In the most unfortunate of moments, you’re also reminded of the fact that they’re college students, too, because they’re leaving you at the door and rushing off to find something to drink. You weren’t upset they dragged you out. Not necessarily. You were grown enough to say no. Perhaps you’d simply set your expectations too high when they begged you to come out and you thought they would spend at least a little bit of time with you before doing their own thing. But sure. It’s whatever.

So, here you are – standing alone in the corner of a frat party, watching as drunk college students grind against each other, laugh, and have a good time. A part of you feels like you’re missing out, but as you watch somebody throw up into a plant, you feel like you’re just fine where you are.

You’re drawn from your thoughts when a man wearing a backwards cap suddenly shows up next to you. “Yo, you thirsty?” he yells over the music, thrusting a red solo cup into your empty hands. You don’t have the time to say anything to him before he’s grinning at you, eyes red and hooded. “Come dance with me. You’re too pretty to be standin’ here all alone.”

You hear her before you see her.

“She’s good, bro, trust,” Paige interrupts smoothly, throwing a casual arm around your shoulders. You feel too much like a damsel in distress, but sensing the gravity of the situation, you flash the guy a light smile and lean into Paige slightly. Her grip tightens. You try to not let it bother you.

He raises his hands, surrendering. “My bad. You got it.”

Paige hums, unconvinced, as he leaves. When he’s out of your sight, you wrench yourself out of her grip. “Thank you, but not necessary,” you tell her sharply, red solo cup still in your hand. If this was how your night was going to go, then you need to be a little tipsy to survive it. You barely have it halfway to your mouth before Paige is pulling it out of your grasp, pouring its contents into a potted plant and chucking the cup into a nearby trash can. “What the fu–”

“First of all,” she begins, arms crossing protectively, “never accept a drink at a party that you didn’t pour, didn’t see someone else pour, or a drink that’s already open; matter fact, don’t accept a drink unless you opened it or brought it in yourself.”

You roll your eyes slightly. “This is Storrs, Paige. Do the frats really get down like that here?”

Her gaze is unimpressed. “You’re the law student, ma, you tell me the numbers. Second of all, you’re welcome. That was Kylin. He doesn’t take no for an answer in the first place but he’s all kinds of fucked up right now. I’d say I did you a favor but I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”

“Funny,” you deadpan. “Here? Now?”

“What are you doing here?” she asks you, ignoring your snippy words. “Thought this wasn’t your scene.”

You pause. “It’s not,” you confirm. “Jos and Chelsea wanted me to come out. Figured I should be a good friend once in a while.”

Paige raises a brow. “Jos and Chelsea are too busy playing strip poker with dudes from Kappa Phi to keep an eye on you, and you’re worried about having to be a good friend?”

“First of all,” you say in the know-it-all tone that Paige had used on you, “I don’t need them to keep an eye on me.” The blonde hums again, not entirely convinced, and the heat of her gaze makes you stumble over your words slightly. “Second of all, why do you even care?”

“We’re friends,” she states.

“We were once,” you correct, voice softening. It’s no secret that you and Paige had fucked up whatever you had going on. It’s never been clear whose fault your fallout was (it was yours), nor could the two of you ever agree on what destroyed you (you would argue that you shouldn’t hook up with your friends, especially not the ones you were in love with). It was a messy situation that you were sure the two of you couldn’t recover from (you didn’t want to be friends with someone you couldn’t have; Paige just wants you to give her the chance to prove you otherwise).

“Sure,” she agrees half-heartedly, knowing your spiel by heart now. “Kinda fucked up you think I need a reason to care.” You don’t dignify that with a proper response, feeling something strangely like guilt corroding your heart. “Come outside and get some air with me? Please? Just wanna talk, no funny shit, I promise.”

You sigh, feeling yourself fall back into all too familiar routines. You had a near inability to say no to Paige most times – it was the reason why you had to put a stop to your friendship. And here you are now, undoing all of the progress you’ve made since you’ve been apart (a small part of you knows better; you’re moving forward but you’re not really doing any better. You’re not progressing. You’re just stuck now, only this time, you have less than you did before). “Jos and Chelsea–”

“–made their choice,” she finishes for you. “And their choice was strip poker with a guy named Anthony,” she adds solemnly. You can’t help but quirk a smile at the absurdity of your life right now. “C’mon, please? It fucking reeks in here. They’ve got a porch swing outside and it’s all quiet and shit.”

“You’ve always had a way with words,” you tease.

“You comin’ or nah?” she asks, but you shove her forward (she lets you) and she leads you through the crowd to the door. They part like the Red Sea and you can’t help but admire the way she silently commands the room, feeling a flutter in your chest you try desperately to stomp out. It’s like a fire; all it takes is a small spark before it eventually grows out of proportion. You know better now.

The door shuts behind the two of you and you sit on the porch swing. You can still hear the music’s pounding bass, but it’s muted. You feel like you can hear your thoughts now. The tension in your shoulders eases as you take in the crisp night air, the crickets’ chirps, the occasional owl’s hoot. For a moment, you forget all of the complicated history between you and Paige; the way she held your hand as she kissed up your thigh, the way she stayed afterwards, cleaning you up and bringing you water. It almost seems as Paige is reliving all of it, too, as she looks at you, and that thought is sobering enough to bring you back to the moment.

You finally get a good look at what she’s wearing. It’s nothing outstanding; a gray Nike tech suit and a pair of dunks, although she’s opted to leave her jacket unzipped, revealing the crop top underneath. She’s dressed for comfort, though the most unfair part of it all is how good she looks when she’s not trying. Her cheekbones are sharp, eyes blue and wide and alert, and you can’t help but notice how fitting a slick-back bun is on her.

This was precisely why you needed your space. You couldn’t control your thoughts or feelings. It was manageable when you minded your business – the phrase out of sight, out of mind did wonders for you and you were usually busy enough that she only crossed your mind once or twice a week when the student population was buzzing about a recent game. But now? Now you’re fucked. You’re inches away from her and you’ve allowed her to pull you back into her orbit. She’s the Earth and you’re a meteor – any closer and you won’t be able to come back from the damage you would do to each other. She would survive, you’re sure, but you’d be destroyed in the process.

“So,” she says slowly. You avert your eyes, staring at anything but her. “How you been?”

“Good,” you lie. “Keeping busy.” That part was less of a lie, but it wasn’t her business to know.

Paige has always been good at reading you, so she gazes at you like she’s not convinced. “I think we’re overdue a conversation,” she says, surprising you. “A real one. No more of this running in circles bullshit.”

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly. You finally meet her eyes. They’re strikingly blue, disarming, and you feel an odd mixture of guilt and longing eat away at your insides. She looks like she’s drinking you in, like she’s trying to understand why you did what you did; her eyes soften in the dim glow of the porchlight and you can’t help but flush under her gaze. She always understands you in spite of how often you push her away – she seems to understand why you keep her at arm’s length, too, and it’s then that you fully understand how overwhelming it is to be known.

“Why did you leave?” she asks finally. You have to swallow back the bile in your throat. “The morning after.” Her clarification does nothing to soothe the turmoil in your stomach. “I thought…” Paige’s throat bobs as she tries to find the words. “It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me. So why did you leave like that shit ain’t matter to you?”

That night in February comes back to you in the blur of a memory. You’ve thought about it so often that you could write a play-by-play of it; every single unremarkable detail comes back to you in a flourish of vibrant color – the way the floor felt beneath your feet as Paige guided you into her room, the slight scratch of her nail against the base of your neck as her hands found purchase in your hair. Paige was wrong. It meant something to you, too much to you. You often remind yourself, if it meant that much, why was it easier to run away? Jumping off of a diving board into a pool conceptually means the same thing as jumping off of a cliffside into beach waves; the jump isn’t the hard part, it’s the reminder of the distance between your feet and the surface. Your feelings for Paige are too consuming. It’s easier to not make the jump at all than it is to worry if you’ll be able to come up for air.

She was in high spirits, drunk off of their win against Villanova. They weren’t an opponent you’d typically call home for, but the Huskies were having a tough season with several injured players and a lot of underclassmen. It was close, 67-46; Paige had contributed to a little less than half of their points overall with a solid 31. She was happy, the rest of her team was happy, and she’d begged you to come over to her apartment for the post-game festivities – which was usually games and snacks as they weren’t big on drinking during the season. You’d nearly refused at first. It was supposed to be a small team get-together and you had some work to catch up on. You eventually gave in, like you always do. Paige had flashed her typical, charming smile, looping an arm around your waist, and you were a goner.

The team accepted you like you were one of their own, too. That was new. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you did with Jos and Chelsea, but it felt like you knew them better than you knew Jos and Chelsea, anyway. Ice and KK were two menacing peas in a pod – they were like sisters separated at birth and whenever they were together, something chaotic was bound to happen, but they loved and protected fiercely despite the way they teased each other and the team. Caroline was like the team mother and many of the girls called her such. Nika was intense on the court, but off of it, she was Paige’s twin through and through – they always had something to say to each other and their banter often brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Azzi was sweet and well-loved by the team (and the student population in general). She introduced you to her and Paige’s son Ines, which confused you at first, but Paige threw her arm over your shoulder and assured you that they’re only co-parenting because Carol has enough children and they didn’t want Ines to be a ward of the court. You couldn’t help but smile at that, leaning into Paige – something about the team’s dynamic healed you a little, and Ines joked that Paige went out and got her a stepmom.

You felt the blush creep up your neck as Paige tightened her grip around you slightly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this, son,” Paige had said somberly, pretending to look sad as Azzi rolled her eyes. “Your mother was havin’ an affair–”

“Oh, bullshit!” Azzi cried. The entire room broke out into fits of giggles.

“Now I understand why Paige wifed up a lawyer,” KK said in between laughter. “Tryna get a discount on that divorce, huh?”

The team had tears in their eyes from their excitement – you didn’t have the heart to tell them you were hoping to specialize in civil litigation, so you just laughed along. The conversation continued to flow as games were played. Nika was exceptionally bad at UNO and Paige never let her hear the end of it. You guys only managed to play a couple of rounds before Nika suddenly got good and played a +4, prompting Ice and KK to stack +4s of their own onto it – Paige stared in disbelief for a solid thirty seconds before picking up 12 cards and rage-quitting one turn later when KK skipped her.

“There, there,” you’d said, lips trembling as you tried not to laugh at the look on Paige’s face. You rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, and she pushed you off her gently, her own lips quirking in amusement. “Show this card game who’s boss.”

“Bro,” she grumbled, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she leaned back into the couch, her arm finding home over the back of your shoulders once more. You remember wondering if this is what normal felt like, what finally finding a community was like – you fit in too well with Paige’s teammates and they made you feel at home. Being near Paige made you feel at home. She was talented that way. She had an uncanny ability to make people feel at ease, regaling them with jokes and an endless supply of charm. When you realized you were in love with Paige Bueckers, you weren’t surprised about it. If anything, you might have been a little upset with yourself – you were sure you weren’t the only person she’d drawn in unintentionally, ensnared in a web whose latticework was meticulously shaped like basketball netting.

As the night went on, more and more laughs were shared until the clock reached midnight and many of Paige’s teammates got up to leave. Everyone shared hugs and affectionate goodnights. All of them even looped around to hug you – which was… nice. Paige shared her apartment with Azzi and Aubrey, so they retired to their own rooms after curious glances to you and Paige, still curled up together on the couch.

The apartment was quiet. You could hear the ring of silence as it enveloped the two of you, Paige’s gentle breathing, and the tick of the clock. It was oddly comforting; normally, it would have lulled you into a drowsy state, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the heat of Paige’s body next to yours, the brush of her thumb against your shoulder. Feeling both unmoored and tethered, you shift next to Paige, gathering her attention. “I should go,” you’d whispered. Her thumb halted.

“Stay,” she requested. She tilted her head. Her gaze met yours. You expected her eyes to be half-closed, dim with sleep. The rasp of her voice was attributed to a tone you knew she’d adopt when she was exhausted, but her eyes were wide, alert, dilated, a blue so dark you were sure you almost mistook the sheer want for something else. “Stay,” she murmured again. “Please.”

“Yeah,” you agreed almost breathlessly, feeling her hand squeeze your shoulder gently. “Sure.” She untangles from you and stands from the couch, offering you her hand, and you take it. She led you seamlessly through the dark of her apartment into her bedroom, where she released you long enough to rifle through her drawers, having found you a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt for you to wear to bed. Paige pointed you towards the bathroom. You changed into her clothes. Your fingers had shook with anticipation at the sheer domesticity of it all as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your – her – t-shirt read HOPKINS GIRLS BASKETBALL. It had all felt so different now. You hadn’t been sure at the moment if it terrified you or excited you.

You exited the bathroom to find Paige’s back to you, adjusting the band of a pair of basketball shorts around her hips. Her hair was out of her bun and it cascaded down her back in loose, wavy strands; you’d felt an inexplicable urge to run your fingers through it, to find out if her hair was as soft as it looked. She was wearing a dark black sports bra. The two of you were friends. Granted, you were in love with her, but the sight of her wearing nothing but ball shorts and her Nike bra shouldn’t have done the things it did to you.

“Which side is yours?” you’d asked, mostly to break the silence. You ignored the crack in your voice. Paige paid it no mind as she turned, which forced you to avert your eyes, trying not to glance at her abdominals.

“Don’t matter,” she responded. You watched the way she moved, sitting low on the bed, legs long and stark against the purple of her comfort. “You gettin’ in or what?” You hoped she couldn’t see the flush on your neck. You slid into bed next to her, hoping to maintain some sort of distance, but she refused to let you get too far. She slung her arm over your waist, fingers brushing against your skin where your shirt rode up. Her breath was even against your neck and the heat of her body nearly turned your brain into mush. “This okay?” she asked, tone softer.

“Mhm,” you hummed, afraid to speak or you might fuck up and tell her just how okay it actually was. Paige was just a touchy person, you tried to remind yourself as you felt the tickle of her hair against the nape of your neck. This doesn’t mean anything to her. It was all for naught. It did little to quell the way your heart raced, the way the heat pooled low in your belly.

“You looked good tonight,” she said casually. You tried to stop the goosebumps as they rose on your flesh. “You always do.”

Unable to think of something smart to say, you shifted your body slightly, your fingers splaying over the arm she held tight around your midsection. “Oh, yeah?” Her fingers brushed a little lower on your stomach, grazing the waistband of your shorts.

She hummed an affirmative, pulling you tighter against herself, and you could barely breathe. It was overwhelming in the best way – she was all around you. Physically, you felt as though you were in her skin as she greedily pulled you in. The scent of her was everywhere; the shampoo that seeped into her pillows, the cologne on her neck. Your hair stood on end as her lips brushed almost imperceptibly against the shell of your ear. “‘M glad you came tonight,” she whispered.

You flipped on your side, face-to-face with Paige. Her arm moved enough for you to get situated and once you were, her hand found the small of your back, her palm warm against your skin. You can’t help the way your breath hitched, even as Paige’s eyes seemed to take in the stuttering rise and fall of your chest. Having found some courage, you poked her cheek, drawing her eyes back up to yours. “What are we doing?” you asked finally, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. Her brow raised slightly, the dark blue of her gaze illuminated by the streaks of moonlight through her window. “No funny shit, Paige. You touch me like you want me, claim me in front of your friends.” You searched her eyes as she fell silent. “What are we doing?” you repeated, voice firmer.

“I want you,” she confessed after a few heartbeats of contemplation. She leaned in closer to you, your noses nearly brushing, and she continued, “I want you so fucking bad. Don’t wanna do anything you’ont want, but–”

Your lips were on hers before she had the chance to finish. She responded eagerly, one hand firm around your waist as she flipped the both of you over, pulling you to straddle her waist. You leaned down, your chest against hers, hands on each side of her neck. You felt the thundering of her pulse under your fingers. It was stabilizing in a sense – words were one thing, but to feel how badly you’d been able to affect her, too, did wonders for your growing ego. Paige’s hands had found your hips, keeping you pressed against her body.

You parted briefly to catch your breath. Paige’s chest heaved, her lips shiny and swollen. She was hard to look away from. For a moment, you’d wondered if this was worth it. Your heart had raced, beating uncontrollably; it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Everything would change between the two of you. Was one night with Paige worth the risk of losing your friendship? You feel too strongly, too much, overwhelmingly. You’ve been told by an ex or two that you were simply too much. You wouldn’t want to subject Paige to that.

Her right hand met your face, tracing the line of your bottom lip. “You want this?” she asked. Her eyes were blown wide, more pupil than iris, but something about it entranced you. The desire in her eyes had brought fresh heat to your stomach, but coupled with the fact she’d be willing to stop made your heart beat a little faster. She was enough to quell your worries, settling the irregularity of your thoughts. You nodded, leaning down to connect your lips again, but her hand was insistent against your jaw as she held you back. “Words,” she commanded.

You’d barely resisted an eyeroll. “Yes, Paige,” you affirmed. Her hand loosened, eyes searching yours. “Want you.”

Her smile turned smug. “Yeah? How bad?”

The tease sent white-hot desire straight through your body as your hips rolled against hers, trying to find some relief. Her hands fall back down to your waist, helping you rut against her thigh as a shared flush creeped up both of your necks. “You gonna touch me?” you breathed against her lips. Her breath came out a disjointed stutter when you guided her hand to the swell of your ass. It was unnatural – Paige was so sure, so confident. To have her nearly at your mercy was like a drug through your veins, but you didn’t want her there. You wanted Paige fully in control; you wanted her to take care of you, to give you everything you’d fantasized about for months on end. You wanted her so bad it rewired the coding in your brain. There was something about her that broke down all of the walls you spent years building.

Your actions and words had been the only permission she needed. One of her hands gripped the flesh of your ass as the other one cupped the back of your neck. Her nail scratched you inadvertently as she dragged you back down to connect your lips – the slight echo of pain caused you to whine against her lips, a sound she swallowed greedily before she flipped the two of you over once more. Your head fell back against her pillows as she rucked up your shirt, finding that you’d opted to not wear a bra. She groaned indulgently, one large hand coming up to squeeze one of your breasts and her mouth finding the other one.

You ran your fingers through her hair, gripping it tight as she lavished you with attention. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she murmured against you, voice dripping with want. She pressed her knee against your core as she found her way back to your lips, kissing you deeply and drawing another whimper from your parted lips. It sent a jolt through your body. “You gon’ let me do what I want, huh? Get you right?”

“Paige, please,” you begged, all of the shame having left your body as you ground down against her knee, feeling the pleasure and relief simultaneously. “Fuck, do what you want, I don’t care – just please fucking touch me.”

She shushed you, lips back on yours, tongue brushing against your lips like she was trying to take whatever you’d give her. And at that point, you would have given her anything if it meant she’d stop teasing you. “I got you, ma, jus’ relax,” she whispered against your lips. She trailed a blazing path down your chest, leaving hickies as she went. Paige reached the waistband of your shorts; she pressed a sloppy kiss to your navel before bunching her fingers in and pulling them off, throwing them haphazardly into the room.

The air was cold against you. You were breathing heavily by then, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Her hand untwisted yours from the bedsheets, linking your fingers together, and that touch alone was enough to bring you back down to earth. “I got you,” she promised again, reminding you, pressing diligent kisses against the inside of your thigh. You relaxed ever so slightly against her, feeling as though you could breathe a little easier, but your body was still incredibly high strung. Paige squeezed your hand. Then her mouth was on you, and you were done for.

She held your hand as she went down on you, talking you through it until your orgasm reached its peak and you sunk into the bed bonelessly. She didn’t release you when she came back up, her smile a mix of smugness, pride, and quiet adoration. Paige kissed your knuckles, your cheeks, your lips, drawing a contented sigh out of you. “You good?” she asked, brushing your hair out of your eyes, hand cradling your jaw.

Exhausted, all you could do was hum an affirmative. Paige flashed a small smile again, pressing a kiss to your forehead and crawling off the bed, much to your surprise. “Lemme get you some water,” she said. “‘M coming right back, I promise.”

You nodded wordlessly, closing your eyes and sinking back into the pillows as your breathing evens out. She left her room, the door shutting with a silent click. In the silence of Paige’s bedroom, curled up in her purple comforter, all you can think about is how the future of your friendship has inexplicably changed forever. She said she wanted you. Did she just mean sexually? Paige was always intentional in her communication, a byproduct of her media training. Tears brimmed your eyes when you considered the idea that you might have just been another Wednesday night fling for her. Here you are again, feeling stupid about the overwhelming feelings you harbored for Paige despite your better judgment. The worst part was that it wasn’t her fault. You got your hopes up.

You wiped your eyes when you heard the door open again. Paige crossed the room, cracking open a cold bottle of water for you and pressing it to your lips. You nearly forgot about your inner turmoil when she smiled at you again, having thrown her hair back up into its bun. “Gonna clean you up, okay?” she informed you. At your nod, she runs a warm washcloth between your thighs, getting rid of the lingering stickiness. She carefully redressed you, squeezing your hips gently, and you’re left feeling so incredibly conflicted that you’re breathless with the anxiety. Paige disposed of the washcloth and curled up next to you in bed once more, an arm wrapping around your midsection. You’d told each other goodnight, but as her breath evens out against your neck, your mind races.

You slept fitfully through the night. And when morning light rolled around, you extracted yourself from Paige’s grip, sliding a pillow into her arms. The nervousness and all of your overthinking thoughts made you queasy with grief. You were in love with Paige Bueckers. That much was true. You were too head over heels for her to return to normalcy; you couldn’t. At that point, it would be easier for you to not be friends with her at all than to pretend like she wasn’t everything you’d ever wanted.

As she slept, you casted one last guilty look over your shoulder and you ran.

But that night in February has long since passed, and on the porch swing on a much warmer night in April, Paige stares at you in desperation, seeking answers to the questions you’ve withheld for over a month. “Why did you leave?” she asks you again. “Fuck, tell me the truth, lie to me, whatever, just please give me something to work with.”

“It was overwhelming,” you finally admit, twisting the rings on your fingers. You feel terrible as you glance at Paige, whose eyes soften when she takes in your expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shoulda seen that something was wrong.”

You close your eyes, lips trembling. You’re touched at how she instantly takes responsibility for your fuck ups, thinking she’s done something wrong. “No, Paige,” you correct her. “Fuck. It wasn’t you. It was never you.” You pick at a loose string on your shorts. She stares at you, waiting for you to continue. “You were so gentle. That night meant everything to me, and that was the problem. I wanted you so bad – Jesus Christ, I was in love with you for months. I don’t do casual. I always feel too strongly and I loved you so much that it was fucking overwhelming. I woke up and nearly lost it because I couldn’t handle the idea of having you like that and having to pretend like I didn’t want you like that forever. It was so much easier to run and not face the possibility of having to be your friend when all I’ve wanted was more.”

When you finally look back to Paige, her eyes are wide with something that looks strangely like grief, like you’ve pulled the rug from under her feet and watched as she fell. As you think about it, that’s probably what you’ve done, anyway. She spent so long thinking that your fallout was her fault, that it was something she’d done, but the ugly truth of the matter was that you were too scared of the way you felt for her that you ran from it instead. Paige runs a frustrated hand over her jaw, her expression nearly unreadable. You frown. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, knowing that your apology is long overdue. You fucked up so incredibly bad with her. Your brain remembers her prior words, the ‘It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me,’ and you suddenly feel like an idiot. God, it was mutual this entire time and you were too caught up in yourself to realize it.

“You think too fucking much,” Paige says finally, and you hardly have the time to react before she’s kissing you, her hands gripping your hips. You nearly gasp against her lips before you fully register what’s happening. Sinking into it, you wrap your arms around her neck, feeling suddenly like everything is finally aligning, that all of your blurred focal points sharpen. When she pulls away, her eyes are alight with understanding. “So, lemme get this straight. You pushed me away ‘cause you’re in love with me, then we fucked, and you thought I wouldn’t wife you up?”

You frown, feeling stupid all over again. “Well, when you put it like that…yeah?”

Paige sighs. “Fuck. Look at my lawyer – you’d send dudes to jail left and fucking right ‘cause you jump to conclusions too early. Thank God you’re not going into criminal defense.”

You shove her away from you, feeling the embarrassment bloom on your cheeks. You can’t help but laugh as you say, “You’re an asshole.”

She guffaws, reaching for your hands, intertwining your fingers. “Says you! You ghosted me for a month and let me think I fucked us up. Jesus Christ.” She twists the ring on your finger mindlessly as she searches for the right words. “Okay, lemme be really fucking clear. I’m in love with you, too. Like, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you. There is nobody but you. You aren’t too much for me – I love you for you, no ifs, ands, buts, whys, hows, nothing. I know you thought you were protecting us by pushin’ me away, but you gotta let me make that choice, too. I want this with you, alright? Will you gimme that chance?”

Her words leave the two of you in silence. You can still hear the chirp of the crickets, the thrumming from the party indoors. You can feel the way her thumb brushes over your knuckles, the way her eyes bore into yours, patiently waiting for your decision. But distinctly, you can see the plea, the desperation for you to just give into what she knows the both of you are feeling. Your anxiety and constant overthinking never ruined the two of you. It may have set you back, but you and Paige found your way back to each other. Maybe you’re not a meteor, dangerously crashing into her and disintegrating on impact. Maybe the two of you are something simpler – the moon and the tide. She was never going to let you get hurt if only you’d give her the opportunity to show you that.

So, you take that leap – whether it’s off the diving board into the pool or the cliffside into beach waves, you don’t care. You know now that Paige is waiting for you at the surface. “I want this, too,” you affirm, watching the smile bloom on her face like springtime flowers, and you seal the deal by pressing your lips to hers. She responds eagerly, her arms tight around you. You loathe that it took the two of you this long, that it was your fault for not trusting Paige with your heart when she’s given you no real reason to doubt her; despite this, her lips taste like forgiveness and yours like atonement. In spite of everything, you made it here in the end, and it was worth it.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #uconn #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb

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certifiedsexed · 1 day ago

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i dont know if this is the right place to go but im so lost why do i have crying meltdowns when my boyfriend turns down sex? it makes me feel disgusting and like im pressuring him to sleep with me, but i would never and thats not my intention. I just get filled with an overwhelming feeling of rejection and disappointment that it hurts physically

I know this may sound hurtful. That's not my intention. I mean this genuinely, in the kindest way possible but it may be that one of the main reasons you have crying meltdowns when your boyfriend turns down sex is that you are not in a space where you should currently be having sex.

It sounds like you have a very strong reaction to what you view as a rejection. I don't know if that's a general thing or just a sex thing but clearly, it's an issue you need to work on. It's not an unheard of issue-What you're describing is word-for-word something that plenty of people who have RSD [Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria] deal with regularly.

But if it's causing you to have meltdowns when your boyfriend turns down sex, it might be a good idea to stop putting yourself in that situation until you've got a better handle on all of it.

That should definitely start with sitting down with your boyfriend and thoroughly discussing with him, "Hey, I have this issue but it's not me trying to pressure you," and listening to his feelings about it and seeing where to go from there.

But from there, you have a lot of options. Therapy, generally exposing yourself to rejection to build yourself up, learning more about how to manage your reactions, etc, that's up to you.

I can't tell you exactly why you have those meltdowns but I can tell you that some people feel things very intensely. And sometimes we can't control our exact reaction to those feelings.

That's not something that makes you evil. Often, there's nothing wrong with feeling things strongly, even if you express them in ways other people view as "inappropriate" or "strange."

But sometimes, it's something you need help with! Like when it's so intense you're feeling physical pain because of something repeatedly! Or when it might interfere with your boyfriend's ability to consent properly. That's definitely an issue you need help with. But it doesn't make you evil.

Not sure how helpful this is, Anon. But let me know if you have any other questions. <3

#sex education #asks #sex tips

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whereisloe · 2 days ago

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my angel ໒꒱

“come from way above” ❀ sevika x reader 𓆝. 𓆟

Got this idea while writing a Silco fic and realized not enough people are writing for this fine ass woman OHMYGOF

I miss my wife, tails. i miss her a lot.

“This doesn’t hurt, does it?” you’d ask as you treated Sevika’s wound, carefully watching every faint expression on her face as you did so. She only grunted in response before letting her head fall into her hand. Considering the positions you both assumed, the woman had been towering over you as you sat comfortably between her legs dressing her abdominal wound. “Aaw , we’re almost done. Just keep being good for me, yeah?” You’d tease with a passive pat to her thigh as you prepped yourself to wrap her waist.

“Shut up” She’d force through a wince as you applied pressure to the deep cut, wrapping it as you did so. “You talk too much”

Once you finished the wrap your hands were quick to roam. Snaking up her chest, and latching onto her neck as you pulled your lips onto her jaw. “Keep getting hurt like this and I might just have to give Silco a little visit for all the trouble he keeps putting you through” Sevika scoffed, half-amused at your wit as she leaned back into the chair. “That man would eat you alive, sweetheart” The petname came off more condescending than endearing as Sevika undermined your words, even brushing off the genuine concern behind the joke with a bittersweet smirk.

“Oh, you promise?” Now it was your turn to laugh as you watched that smirk wipe clean off her face when her expression grew darker. You ignored her very obvious mood change and continued cleaning up your gear. “Y’know, maybe I could get you that pay raise. What do you think?” You’d stand from your crouched position and slowly spin around, flaunting your body at the woman. You even grabbed her rugged hand and bring it to your hip as you knelt into the seat of the chair that had been exposed between her legs.

“Hilarious.” She wouldn’t even half mind you as her hand quickly replaced your hip with a cigar. You rolled your eyes at her passiveness before returning to the ground to clean up your mess. At some point you even walked away allowing Sevika to smoke in peace as you cleaned your equipment.

Once you reentered the room, you’d find Sevika casually reclined on your couch with an unlit cigar still hanging out the side of her mouth. As you got closer her eyes locked on to you, roaming you up and down but once they reached your face, they softened. Just two gentle, big eyes admiring from a distance as you admired back. You were snapped out of your trance when she threw a lighter at you. You caught the metal with ease and examined it. “You forgot to light me” She said plainly, attempting to hide the sentiment she held toward the action. It was reminiscent of the first time the two of you met outside a brothel. Long story short, Sevika was quick to describe you as a huge distraction to her mission that day despite your short interaction that even you barely remembered.

“How cruel of me” You knelt down in front of the couch, now back to admiring your partner from below as her half lidded eyes met your wide ones. Her hand, rough as it was, gently held your cheek as her thumb brushed over your bottom lip. You felt yourself melt into her warm palm as the contrast between her calloused hand and your plush skin sent chills down your skin. You sparked the lighter twice before bringing it to the end of Sevika’s cigar.

She watched you. Allowing the flame to illuminate your soft expressions, and in her eyes, manipulating your features. Making you resemble yourself that night many years ago. She wasn’t any less taken by your more aged features if anything she appreciated them. Glad to see you grow older alongside her than having to admire your beauty from an ageless photo. You would notice her unwavering stare once you tossed the lighter aside and decided to make brief conversation. “You know, I don’t remember much of the first time we met” Sevika took a puff of her cigar before nodding urging you to continue. “But I remember without a doubt the second time”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t” She chuckled under her breath as the memories came flooding in. You took note of her already flaking cigar as she held it between her two fingers. Quickly, you placed your ceramic tray gently to her stomach just in time to catch the ash. “That guy had a lot of nerve putting his hands on you, you’re lucky I was there. Otherwise, who knows the things he would’ve did—” Sevika cursed at the thought.

“Well, you were there and I am forever grateful for you,” your voice was low as you rub senseless shapes across her wrist with the pad of your thumb. “my angel” the words were hushed as you kissed the base of her palm, then her wrist, down her arm, and back up her shoulder until you reached her nape where you took a moment. In this time, you pushed yourself onto her, feeling her shift to a more seated position to accommodate for you, you straddle her hips as you tossed your arms carelessly over her shoulders. The ceramic tray had fallen out from under you meeting the concrete with a shattering sound as the shards dispersed. “Damn it” You sighed as you began shifting away from your partner only for her to rest a heavy hand on your waist.

“I’ll clean it, later” Sevika gently guided you back into herself only to latch onto your neck. A shaky breath left your agape lips as you laid helplessly above Sevika. The heat in your cheeks only spread as she shamelessly left those sticky love bites all over your neck.

The sounds that fell from your lips only further egged her on as she found herself getting lower and her hand higher as it slid up your stomach. Eventually, you grew fed up with her slow teasing and brought your fingertips to the seams of your shirt and watched as Sevika’s gaze grew harsh with anticipation. You were ready to lift the cloth but quickly felt your blood run cold as three heavy knocked fell against your front door. You practically jumped out your skin as Sevika scowled at the source of the noise. “Fuck, I’ll get it” You held a hand over your heart as your slowly opened the door, meeting the eyes of a man who seemed to be one of Silco’s goons.

“Sevika, boss needs ya” The man completely disregarded you. You huffed under your breath and glanced up noticing how she was already behind you, prying the door further open. “Gotchu, now get the hell out of here before somebody sees you” Sevika’s voice was cold and harsh as she talked with the man, her tone almost foreign to you as you waited behind the door for Sevika to finish. Once she did, the door was shut with a frustrated grunt as she leant up against the door contemplating her next move.

“You need me to kill him?” From behind, you brought both your arms around her, pressing your face against her shoulder, you felt her laugh. “I’m sure you could.” She turned around and pressed a brief kiss to your temple. “Drinks on me next date to make up for this”

“Drinks are always on you” Your thumbs rubbed anxiously against her waist as you become increasingly aware of how much you hated when she left.

“Guess I need to stop fucking up, then” She gave your cheek on last stroke before turning to leave only to be stopped when you grabbed her mech hand. “You’re off to a bad start if you’re just gonna leave like that” You pulled yourself into her chest, standing on your toes as your lips locked with hers. Moving in tandem, Sevika fell against the door as you cupped her face in your palms and grew warm as her hand fell on the small of your back. Toward the end of your kiss you felt that warm, genuine smile of hers form against your lips as you fell back onto your heels.

“Be sure to fly back home to me, my angel”

god punishes me by making my wives fictional :( also have yall read that hexstrap fic??? sevika please just the tip 🙏😩

#arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane x reader #in lesbians

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nylwnder · 2 days ago

Text

little secret

a/n: hiiiiii bbs, sorry for the long gaps between fic drops for this series, life hates me and sometimes i just dont have the time to write </////3 or the motivation which is worse. waahhhh!!! HOWEVER, i was gifted some free time the past month, and because i love you guys so so much, i birth to you all: my first am34 fic <333333

pairing: auston matthews x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT! sex toys (lush toy), edging, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cockwarming, swearing, auston being in loveeeeee, secret relationship, confession of feelings

word count: 3.4k

taglist: @shoot-the-puck , @11livpangburn , @eastoncowan , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay , @fallinallincurls , @andrea9 , @dylpickle4791 , @biznastysloneshift12 , @dramatic-queen

series masterpost

the vibrating feeling in between your thighs made you grip the edge of the counter top, almost dropping your drink. a moan escaped your throat as the pressure increased, your legs bucking before you felt yourself coming close to the edge.

“please please oh please” you mumble quietly but then the vibrations disappear all together again. you take a deep breath with a little whine.

you walk back to the couch, setting your small snack on the coffee table. watching as the leafs began to make it back out to the ice for the third period. knowing the teasing would take a break for the rest of the game unless he so happened to have his phone on the bench too.

—

it all started with a birthday present. a more mischievous gift for a relationship that's just freshly bloomed in the last few months. but your relationship is open and free and gratifying like that.

it was a small, curvy, hot pink toy. one that has devilish capabilities with the mere connection to a phone app. auston knew you would love it, and you also knew he would use the toy to its fullest potential—edging and overstimulating your folds as much as he can. and you do in fact love it, so it isn't surprising that you obliged when he handed it to you this afternoon. a mischievous grin on his face.

“need you to put this on for me, baby” he mentions gently, handing you the toy.

you take it in your palm, already imagining the impending feeling between your thighs. “when would you play with me though?” you ask, pondering the thought on how he’d manage in front of the team, nevermind the coaching crew.

he grins again, “i'll find a way. just need you to be a good girl and keep it in until i come home okay?”

you nod, biting your lip.

“i'll be nice, i promise” he mentions with a kiss to your cheek before a kiss to your lips.

—

unless his idea of nice was having you edged every single fucking time his finger began to play with the controls of the toy, then he was in fact nice. you were flustered, frustrated, being edged to reach any sort of release. you squirmed and whined as it tickled the bundle of nerves inside of you again as the team prepared for press. ready to discuss the well earned blowout win against the ducks, and the sixth hattrick of the season for auston.

you couldn’t deny it, auston looked so good out there on the ice—working the puck around bodies like nothing. and it made your heart swell that during the intermissions he couldn’t help but take the time and think of you, play with you, but oh did you want him home. in your arms so he can do you right.

you weren't even sure if you were overstimulated, even though he's been playing with you on-and-off for the past three hours and a half, you just wanted to cum. and oh god please on his cock.

—

auston kept his interview short and sweet, wanting to make it home earlier than usual despite the attention and requests regarding another outstanding performance. he wanted to get home to you.

the boys noticed his eagerness to skim through the usual routine, poking around and asking him if he's got a girl waiting at home. he gave a low smile, not discussing further than that. they didn't know about you yet. nobody knew.

being your boyfriend, he wasn't thrilled about the public eye getting a glimpse of you just yet. sure, he wants to take you out to a fancy dinner, hold your hand while you're walking home from the movies. of course he would want to show you off to the boys just so they can chirp him about how he landed you. but you were too special. too soft, kind and sweet. too perfect, he thought. he didn't want anyone to say otherwise, anyone to try to ruin you. the day will come when they know your name, sure. yet even when the moment arrives, when everyone finally lays eyes on you, he knows he’ll still be a protective force. always. if that means you’re his little secret for now, then so be it.

right now, you were all his. without anyone knowing. his warm soul. his dripping core. the one that he wants… no. he needs. right now. so badly.

—

when he got home his belongings were quickly discarded to the side. auston relishing in the warm and soothing atmosphere you have created out of his apartment, his senses welcomed by the sweet smell of you. the house always felt empty those nights you couldn’t be with him. your presence had brought a light to the home that it never had, that none of the other flings managed to spark.

he noticed your lounge pants laying near the couch in the living room. your slippers discarded on the other side. he moved forward to grab them, but placed it back down when he noticed your shirt near the entrance of the bedroom. a smile grew on his face.

a few steps forward granted him a beautiful view—his favourite view—the sole reason why he rushed through the toronto night traffic.

you sat at the edge of your bed in a satin lingerie slip. your hair was messy in that pretty way that framed your face, the way that made aus bite his lip in admiration. your lips softly pouted a “missed you.”

your legs slowly opened apart, showing your arousal from the night sopping through the fabric of your underwear. auston gave a low groan, and licked his lips.

“need you. so bad.” you whine.

he walks towards you, and you instantly wrap your legs around him to connect your lips. his grip on your hips yanks you higher onto the bed, allotting him space to get on and tower over you. you nip on his lip as you both break for air.

“you were mean” you murmur. he smirked, “i promised you i'd be nice, that's why i'm gonna make her feel so much better” he says, cupping your dripping core.

you whimper, “please”

his fingers hook on your panties, pulling them down and throwing them to the side. he reaches for the tail of the lush toy, making sure to gently pull the rest of it out. you squirmed at the emptiness, aus seeing the way your entrance clenched around nothing.

“you did s’good, baby. taking it like a good girl” he mutters in your ear as his lips attach to your neck. his wet kisses mixed with his nipping move down to your collarbone, then to the tops of your breasts.

he makes sure to keep his work up until he knows purple and red marks will litter your skin in a couple of hours. making it difficult for you to hide them everytime you leave his apartment. god forbid your friends see them. you're not in the mood to be forced to disclose any more details about your boyfriend. you just wanna keep living in this little bubble the two of you have managed to keep.

not yet. just a little longer.

“mmm, you looked so good out there baby” you manage to mutter. trying your best to not get lost in his kisses but sometimes it's just too hard.

you can feel his smile against your skin. “thank you” he says, kissing on top of his mouth’s handiwork before grabbing you by the hips and bringing you to sit down on his lap.

“your sixth hattrick. not everyone can do that” you speak again, smiling, running your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck.

his smile didn't leave his face, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. “…nevermind the fact that this was your second back-to-back hatty” you say against his lips.

this time he begins to blush, in what you think is quite literally the most beautiful way possible. you can't help but to kiss him again. he looks down while squeezing your hips before looking back up and letting out a light chuckle. “we gonna keep talking about it or are you going to let me celebrate with you? hm?”

it's your turn to flush a bit. embarrassed you may have been discussing something in a situation where you shouldn’t even be talking in the first place. but you couldn't help it, you wanted to give him all the possible affirmations you could.

“m’sorry” you reply, wrapping your arms tighter around his frame, endeavouring in the taste of his mouth once again. you can feel the mint from the gum he was chewing on the drive back home. it relaxes you.

one of his hands stays pressed on your spine, scrunching the material of your night slip between his fingers, while his other hand travels down. his large palm shamelessly grabbing your ass, moulding your flesh to the shape of his fingers. your skin quickly heats up again and your mind swirls over the rhythm of his tongue against yours and the bulge growing beneath you. aus presses you down, hard, against his clothed lap, it feels like he's already fucking you. but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your folds and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.

he sticks in a finger and you subconsciously bite down on his lip. he hums before sticking in another and you accidentally do the same thing again. there's a burning feeling between your thighs, perhaps you are overstimulated after all. but that's not stopping you. you still want him to help you to that finish line that he so cruelly didn't let you reach.

he pumps in and out a bit, making sure you’re wet enough. that was surely a fact, with the way your juices covered his fingers so exceedingly. anticipation continued to build inside of auston, causing the bulge between his thighs to strain against his dress pants. hes been thinking about you the whole night, and your pussy even more.

you untug auston’s shirt, allowing you to unbutton his pants. he helps you pull them off of his legs, while you take off his shirt from his sculpted chest. you run your fingers down his torso, following the lines that shape him. his lips connect to your neck, immediately finding your pulse point. you grind down on him and he allows a groan to escape his lips and echo in your ear. you smile.

“can i take this off?” he asks, tugging at your slip.

you nod needily, the cold air hardening your nipples at the exposure. auston can't help but groan again, yanking you up so he can attach his lips to them. you whine sharply, feeling the tip of his cock nudging near your entrance as well.

he releases your one nipple with a “pop”, sinking you down on his length before you can even make out a sound.

“m’fuck” you mumble, your body ablaze.

“god you’re truly the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” he says. holding your hips back to get a good look at you.

“auston…” you whine at him, blood rushing to your cheeks again in slight shyness. however your walls clench around him.

“let me compliment you.” he laughed, helping your hips sway against his lap. left, right, up and down, it all felt exactly how you wanted. perfect.

your cunt was soaking wet. the sounds the two of you make where your bodies connect is unholy. auston’s fingers have a tight grip on your love handles, trying his best to keep himself together for you. he chose to focus on littering whatever skin he can reach with more marks, making sure you remember you’re his when you wake up tomorrow morning.

with all the emotions and sensations it truly doesn't take you long to feel the addictive feeling deep in your stomach again. eyes fluttering shut, mewls escaping your pink plump lips, boobs swaying gracefully with your movements, it's like a scene out of a dream the way your walls have a snug grip on auston’s cock. shes perfect, he notes to himself.

he holds you close to him, before moving you to lay down on the bed. he pushes his hands under your thighs and lifts your hips. the position slides him even deeper. makes his cock push up into you, into that spongy part inside that forces your eyes to roll back even more. your thighs begin to tremble.

“take me so good baby, s’like you were made for me.”

“i am.” you respond, because he’s made you honest. in the delirium of him, you’re saying what you’ve had buried inside of you for the past months, waiting for moments like this. with the way he makes you feel it's impossible not to think this way. my god, you’re sure you love him.

with your breathing heavy, recovering from your high, auston groans against your lips––pumping himself into you like a man fueled by pure hunger. the warmth of his cum spilling into you makes you all the more lightheaded.

you grip at the nape of auston’s neck, bringing him in for a kiss. both of your lips already hot pink and puffy. but the need to ground each other is so strong.

the euphoric feeling of relief from your earlier pent up frustration begins to make your body soften. your head felt more vulnerable and you couldn't suppress the words any further. “aus..” you say, kissing his lips before looking him in the eyes. he gives out a small hum in acknowledgment.

“i-i love you. i really do.” your hands squeeze the ends of his hair in anticipation of his response.

did you know that a 6’3, beefy, sassy hockey player can feel butterflies? cause auston is pretty sure he just did. a smile crept up from the corners of his mouth and overtook his entire demeanour. you couldn’t help but reciprocate it.

“yeah?” he asks softly.

you nod, auston’s hands moving to drop your legs and grip your sides instead.

“i love you too, baby.” why wouldn't i? you're too good to be true.

a feeling of bliss overtakes your body. pent up emotions finally all out on the table. its been a lovely set of months now and perhaps you both are ready for that next step.

both of his hands interlock with yours, moving your arms up and over your head. the grip is snug and safe. you can picture holding hands in the cold weather, his palm big and warm enough that you don't need mittens like you used to.

his lips meet yours in a slow gentle kiss. your cheeks blush at the thought of kissing auston straight from the locker room, or his lips leaving a peck on your forehead as you two wait for a table at a restaurant.

the little things.

a whimper leaves your lips, an angelic sound, and an unconscious reaction to auston’s kisses. you can feel auston twitch inside you. so in response, you rock your hips upwards.

“there she is,” he smirks down at you, “there’s my fucking dirty girl.” he notes the dreamy glint in your eye, “you want some more, huh?” you bite your lip, nodding. auston pulls out, just for a moment and your pussy aches at the cruel feeling of emptiness.

kneeling in front of you, aus guides you to turn to your side, straddling one of your legs and grabbing the other one to curl around his side. he aligns himself to your entrance and pushes in without hesitation, already missing the warmth of your wet walls. he continues with his sharp thrusts, one of his hands moving to play with your breasts, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. moans fill the space in the room, and slips of his name fill in the gaps.

the stimulation you feel is so fucking good, for lack of better terms. in contrast to his earlier teases, his thrusts don’t seem to stop anytime soon and you couldn't be any more grateful. your cunt clenching around him so tight that auston hisses, groaning deeply. he shakes his head as if he can’t believe it.

“you’re fucking purring angel, like i didn’t just cum on your pretty pussy. what am i gonna do with you, huh?”

his words make you cry, looking up at him with doe eyes, urging him to bring you to that beautiful edge. “fuck dontstop–so close–so close–” you mumble out quickly. searching for his hand laying on top of your breasts, you tangle your fingers around his again, he squeezes them lovingly. your cheeks fill with a blush tint.

“didn’t plan on it, baby.” he says, making his other hand move to your clit, pressing to rub circles around it, then triangles and then squares and then fucking diamonds. god you didn’t know you just wanted him to keep going and drive you through that burning feeling inside of you.

and so he does, eliciting more sounds from your soft lips along with shivers down your body. he whispers to you how beautiful you are in your ear, while he cums in your sweet cunt once again. you’ll never get over that feeling.

auston grabs you close as he flips the two of you, allowing him to lay down on the pillows, your body sprawled on top of him. his cock still snug in you. you softly hum, this position letting both of you settle down from your shared highs. aus feels your smell calm him, the faint scent of your floral shampoo steadying his breathing, his heartbeat relaxed. he has never felt so safe, so comfortable.

he didn’t want you to move, not even dare to leave this warmth the two of you have created. he's used to getting up after a sexual endeavour like such, two people going their separate ways, hell he's even urgently guided girls out the door. but you? never. if he could keep you here, with him–just him–forever, he would.

you felt auston slowly get soft inside you, and you took that as a queue to take a quick trip to the bathroom to clean yourself up. trying to detach yourself from the soft and gentle embrace of your boyfriend was hard, you didn't want to leave him.

“where are you going?” auston asks, grabbing your waist as you sit up from his chest.

“just the bathroom.” you mention, getting further up and feeling him slip out of you. you let out a small instinctive whimper to the loss. you notice the pout in his eyes, “i’ll only be a minute, don't worry.”

auston was hesitant to let go of your hand, missing the soft feeling contrasted to his rough hands, despite the fact they aren't as calloused as they could be. you smiled at his clinginess, it truly was a compliment. you got up and swiftly made your way to the bathroom mats, as the cold floor sent a quiver up your body. after cleaning yourself up you looked at yourself in the mirror while you washed your hands. you could see the love marks appearing around your breasts, not an uncommon place to find them. aus makes sure to leave new ones each time they start fading.

you make your way back to the bed, seeing auston settled in the sheets. he looks at you with genuinity. a twinkle in his eye. love pouring out of his tender gaze. your skin grows hot. you smile and drop your head to his shoulder once you reach him. “you should see the look on your face”

“what?” he asks curiously.

you look up at him, after wrapping your legs around his own. “you look absolutely smitten.”

he smiles. “good.” he exclaims. proud.

you are quick to get soothed back into his pool of warmth, along with his hand running against your back. here and there reaching the top of your bum, before making its way back up.

you think about your shared confession from earlier. the weight of those immense feelings towering over the two of you gone. all the opportunities and possibilities at your fingertips. “so when do you think i’ll get one of those cute playoff jackets the wives and girlfriends get?”

“you want one?” auston asks, you can hear the smile in his words, if you chose to lift your head you would probably see the smirk too.

“yeah,” you reply, playing with the fingers on his other hand. “i want to be at every game.”

“i’ll make sure you’re the first to get yours then.” you now chose to look up at him, your own happiness radiating across your face. “promise?” you ask, lightly giggling.

“promise.”

“good.”

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#auston matthews #auston matthews fic #auston matthews smut #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews x fem!reader #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs smut #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs x reader #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey fic #hockey smut #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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rhiannonsknife · 1 day ago

Note

Okay okay so hear me out.

Imagine the Yellowjackets are actually at the nationals instead of the plane crashing. And Jackie desperately tries to avoid r BUT the coach puts them in the same room for whatever reason, maybe shauna and jackie were playing around too much so as punishment shauna had to switch with r.

Now that they’re both forced to be closer than usual Jackie is genuinely losing her mind and her emotions are ALL around. Maybe they hook up, maybe not. Or they have a GENUINE conversation for once, which surprises Jackie..

You can do whatever you want with that idea, it’s totally up to you

— summary: secretly hooking up with jackie taylor. part 1. part 2.

— warnings: implied internalized homophobia & cheating. angst. hurt/no comfort because this is how things are done here. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni.

— a/n: enough with the jackie taylor fluff, back to the filthy lesbian sex + angst. you’re welcome.

the hallway of the hotel buzzes with the usual pre-competition chaos: teammates of various different schools all across the states scurrying between rooms, the sound of laughter and last-minute pep talks echoing off the walls. nationals. the peak of everything the yellowjackets had worked for all season. your last chance to win the thing as a team before most of you graduate.

obviously, jackie should feel excited, focused, and ready to step onto that court and lead her team to victory one final time.

instead, her stomach churns, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the pressure of the next couple of days.

“switching rooms is a terrible idea,” she reasons, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glares at coach martinez.

“this is not a debate, taylor,” he replies, voice clipped. “this isn’t summer camp. you’re here to win, not distract your teammates with shipman. now get your stuff and make the swap. it’s only a weekend”

jackie glances sideways, catching your eye from where you stand a little further down the hall. you’re leaning casually against the wall, trying to act like you’re not paying attention, but she knows better. you’ve always been good at reading her, too good for her comfort. what you’re not so good at is pretending.

she can see the way you’re watching the exchange, trying to hide the obvious amusement in your gaze as jackie tries to reason with the coach.

she’s been doing her absolute best to keep her distance, to keep things simple and clean. nationals are stressful enough without throwing whatever this is into the mix. but now, thanks to shauna’s antics, the universe has decided to test her self-control all over again.

with a resigned sigh and not another look back at coach martinez, jackie grabs her bag and stalks toward her new room.

you’re barely done setting your things down when she barges past you and into the space

“hello to you too, roomie” you mutter as you close the door on your own way in.

she shoots you a look, tossing her bag onto the other bed with more force than necessary. “don’t get too comfortable,” she mutters. “this isn’t permanent”

“oh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “didn’t realize you had the power to override coach’s orders all of a sudden”

jackie’s jaw tightens, her posture stiffening as she stands by the bed. “i don’t,” she snaps, her voice sharp. “but i’ll talk to him tomorrow and get it fixed. until then, just…stay on your side of the room”

you scoff, setting your bag down with a little more force than necessary. “stay on my side of the room? what are we? fucking twelve?”

jackie glares at you. “i’m serious,” she says, brushing past you to grab her toiletries from her bag. “i don’t want any trouble”

“trouble?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. truthfully, you don’t mean to. but ever since you started whatever this is between you, jackie has been doing the same thing over and over: pushing you away, pretending like you don’t exist at all. she won’t even look at you in school. all you can do is watch when she’s with jeff instead, holding his hands or kissing him in the hall, for once not afraid of the affection

“you’re the one acting like this is the end of the world. it’s just one night, jackie. maybe try not making it weird for once”

jackie freezes mid-motion, her hand gripping the zipper of her duffel bag. when she turns to face you, there’s a familiar edge in her expression. “i’m making it weird?” she shoots back. “you think i want to be stuck here with you?”

the words hit harder than they should, but you refuse to let her see the sting. of course jackie taylor wouldn’t want to be caught in the same room with you if you’re not knuckle deep inside her simultaneously.

“right,” you say flatly, crossing your arms. “because it’s so awful being in the same room as me, huh? god forbid we have to actually talk like normal people”

jackie flinches at the unexpected bitterness in your tone, but she doesn’t back down either. “i’m just saying,” she starts. “this is nationals. it’s a big deal. we should be focusing on the game, not…whatever”

“whatever,” you echo, narrowing your eyes. “right. because that’s all this is to you. just some ‘whatever’”

her cheeks flush, and she glances away, busying herself with folding a stray sweatshirt. “i didn’t say that,” she mutters.

“you didn’t have to,” you reply, your voice slightly quieter now, but no less tense. “you know, for someone who’s so concerned about ‘trouble,’ you’re pretty good at creating it”

jackie’s hands still, her knuckles whitening as she grips the shirt tightly. for a moment, it looks like she might say something, but then she exhales sharply and shoves the sweatshirt away. a part of you would prefer it if she actually did. if she, for once, recognizes what you two have, rather than keeping it something shameful. something unspoken. it shouldn’t surprise you that she doesn’t.

“i’m going to take a shower,” jackie announces instead. “just…stay out of my way”

she doesn’t wait for a response before grabbing her things and heading for the door, leaving you alone in the too-quiet room. the door slams shut behind her, and you sink onto the edge of your bed, rubbing a hand over your face.

this wasn’t what you had envisioned for the nationals. you didn’t ask to be thrown into a room with jackie, but now that you are, you can’t help the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. why do you have to be punished, just because she and shauna can’t behave?

jackie has been keeping you at arm’s length for months now, barely acknowledging you outside of stolen moments behind closed doors that she won’t talk about. and now, trapped in this tiny room together, all the tension and unspoken words feel like they’re pressing down on you, endlessly heavy and suffocating.

when she finally returns, her hair damp and her face scrubbed clean, the air between you is no less charged.

she moves stiffly, avoiding your gaze as she sets her toiletries down and climbs into bed without a word. you briefly consider saying something to break the silence, but the memory of her earlier words

you think I want to be stuck here with you?

holds you back. instead, you turn off the bedside lamp and lie down on your back, the too-small room plunging into darkness.

a long time passes by in the familiar silence. it’s all it ever is with jackie: radio silence until it’s not an inconvenience for her to want you. then, you’ll have her for a couple of hours, before things go back to how they were before.

the other bed creaks softly beside you as jackie shifts, her back to you. for a second, you think she’s fallen asleep already. then you hear her sigh, low and almost inaudible.

despite everything, her sharp words, her cold demeanor, you know jackie, for better or for worse. you know she’s scared, for reasons beyond you, and conflicted. she’s trying so desperately to pretend to be something she’s not. and she would've been able to succeed with it, had it not been for you.

the silence stretches on, thick and heavy. at some point, you roll onto your side, your back to hers too, determined to get some sleep, yet to no avail. you hear it before she speaks: the faintest shift of the mattress as jackie turns.

“are you awake?” she murmurs, her voice hesitant.

you don’t answer right away, torn between wanting to keep your distance and the part of you that aches to close the gap between you. finally, you whisper, “yeah”

she falls silent for a moment, and you can almost sense her weighing whether or not to say more.

you hear movement in the dark, and you’re about to turn when the mattress dips by your legs where jackie has sat. ”i didn’t mean what i said earlier. about not wanting to be here“

you swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. you don’t dare to turn and look at her. “then why say it?”

jackie hesitates. you can feel her shift closer, the warmth of her body radiating against your back. a part of you wants to push her away. another, stronger and more determined part wants her endlessly closer. “because it’s easier,” she admits quietly. you force yourself to fight against the shiver that threatens to run down your back when she curls up against you, her breath warm on your shoulder blade. “it’s easier to push you away than…than deal with any of this”

her words hang in the air, and you find yourself turning to face her. the darkness between you doing nothing to hide the vulnerability in her expression from this close. this, you realize as you take in jackie’s features, is the most vulnerable she’s ever been around you.

“how do you feel?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

jackie’s gaze drops, her fingers curling into the edge of the blanket between you. “i don’t know,” she says, but the tremble in her voice betrays her. “i just know that when i’m with you, everything gets so…complicated”

you reach out, your hand brushing against hers. “it doesn’t have to be”

jackie doesn’t move, her eyes locked on yours. then, slowly, tentatively, she closes the distance between you, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s equal parts hesitation and longing.

when she finally pulls away, her forehead rests against yours, and she exhales shakily. “this doesn’t change anything,” she whispers. there she is again. the jackie you know. the jackie you will despise again in the morning. the jackie you have, unfortunately, fallen in love with months ago, long before she decided that you were worth to keep around for some occasional hook ups.

you don’t respond verbally. if this is all of her that you’ll get tonight, you will still very much take it.

jackie’s fingertips trace your cheeks as your mouths move together. you’re not even sure who has leaned in first this time, only that you’re kissing her again and that she’s kissing you back just as eagerly.

her lips are so soft against yours it’s unfair, yet they’re demanding and hungry, ravishing your mouth in a way you never dared to imagine. simultaneously, her hands are running all over you, wherever jackie can reach. frustrated with how restrictive these blankets are, she grunts and pushes them aside.

with the newfound space, she smoothly slides on top of you, your legs tangling together on the plain bedsheets.

“come here” she murmurs, closing the distance between you again. you part your lips almost immediately, giving in to all that stupid, pent-up hunger.

it’s not long after, that you try bucking your hips upward, chasing after a pressure she is not yet providing. jackie has never been one to give. you can remember the one single time where she’s actually shoved her hand down your pants. it’d been in the back of your car, from a slightly awkward angle and without much aftercare to it. but it had been, to this day, one of your best orgasms simply because it was jackie taylor’s hand that had been touching you that night. to this day, it is what you think back to when you’re alone in your room.

now, she seems oddly eager to touch you. except this time, you realize, you have time. there are no parents anywhere nearby, no jeff that could catch or overhear you. just the two of you, in the middle of the night.

maybe coach martinez had, unknowingly done you the biggest favor of your lifetime.

you bite your lip when jackie leans back to look down at you. her hair is a mess, her chest heaving with how hard she’s panting.

one tug is all it takes before she’s all over you again, caging you in between her forearms on either side of your head. you bury your hands in her hair and allow yourself to pretend that any of this is normal.

her shirt comes off first, tossed off the bed carelessly. you sit before her, hands roaming her sides, eyes glued to her chest. yours is next and jackie seems almost impatient to peel it off of you. once you’re both topless, she pushes you back into the mattress and straddles your hips.

you moan into her mouth when her bare breasts slide up against yours. eager to feel more of this, for as long as she lets you, you arch your back up against jackie. she groans softly into your mouth, the noise shooting straight between your legs.

“jackie” you manage. your fingers have, without you even noticing, wrapped around her forearms in a silent plea for her to stay this close. you only let go when she puts her mouth to the side of your neck and sucks.

well, this is new, you briefly think. jackie, for obvious reasons, never lets you mark her up at all. but you didn’t think of her as one to be into leaving hickeys. how you’ll cover them in the morning is a problem for your future self. for now, you just don’t want her to stop. whatever has gotten into her tonight, you want more of it.

“jackie” you sigh again, more urgency in your voice this time. “touch me”

she leans back from where she had her face buried in the crook of your neck. for a moment, as your hand slides from the back of her head, you think you’ve messed it all up. you’d been playing with fire from the start. and now you’ve pushed her too far, asked for too much. then, an unfamiliar determination flickers over jackie’s face, and her fingers drop down to your shorts.

“holy shit” you can’t help but mutter when she, unlike what you expected, doesn’t immediately shove her hand down past the waistline. instead, jackie pushes them all the way down your legs with your help, leaving you in your underwear. she watches as you kick them off, then turns back to face you. you do notice that she’s purposefully not looking right at you, but you don’t mind it all that much when she settles down beside you and runs her flat palm down your body.

her fingers briefly brush over your nipples but don’t waste any time to get to where you both want them the most. you’ve learned to love jackie in the quiet, stolen moments in between. you can’t miss anything you’ve never had and only the comfort of a bed and a room all to yourselves seems too luxurious to be true. you’re not going to ruin this for yourself by getting caught up in the lack of proper foreplay.

you involuntarily spread your legs wider for jackie when she reaches your underwear and you can feel her smile against the side of your neck, where she’s resting her head.

when her index finger runs over the fabric there, her mouth falls open. she must feel the wet patch of your arousal.

“you’re so-“ she gasps, just barely managing to cut herself off in time. jackie taylor doesn’t speak to you while she gets you off. she clears her throat and makes up by finally pushing your underwear aside.

you have to slam a hand over your mouth so your next-door neighbors won’t hear the sound you make when jackie circles your clit for the first time. she’s deliberate, her wrist moving in firm, clockwise circular motions.

the blankets rustle quietly as she adjusts, propping her weight down on one hand as she lingers above you and watches, then presses down harder.

your head falls back into the pillows and your jaw goes slack. to your surprise, jackie’s expression is a reflection of your own: her mouth hangs open as though she’s the one who’s getting touched, and her eyes are heavy as they study your reactions. just by the way she’s touching you, you wouldn’t know that this is only her second time doing this. she must've been attentive to the way you've been touching her during all of your past hook-ups.

you can feel how wet you’re getting -embarrassingly fast. her fingers slide over you in no time whatsoever, gathering your arousal on them before pushing it up and over your clit.

a shuddered breath falls from your lips. jackie is still watching you, alternating between your face (yet never your eyes) and where her hand is moving between your legs.

she keeps this up until you can feel her in every single nerve ending. whether jackie knows this or not, though something tells you that she does, this is not quite enough to make you cum. it’s merely enough to get you towards that edge, toeing it, yet never falling over. the pressure isn’t hard enough, the sensation too brief.

in spite of yourself, you begin to rock your hips into her hand. at this point, you’re so wet it’s dripping through your underwear. there’s no reason to hide your own desperation anymore when she can feel it herself.

“jackie-“ you gasp. it’s tortuously good.

the first time she looks into your eyes that night is when she dips her soaked finger lower and pushes it inside. the moan that you let out at this is definitely too loud for a packed hotel, but she makes no attempt to hush you.

you can feel the place where jackie's pebbled nipples press against you, every inch of exposed skin curled up with your own, and her breath fans against your earlobe. you’re half convinced you’re only imagining it when she whispers: “you like this?”

you hardly hear the words at all, drowned out by your own, mindless gasps and the sounds coming from where jackie is pounding into you; the obscenely slick noises.

she’s deep. she’s so deep inside of you, her delicate fingers pressing deeper than she’s ever been before. it’s the first time you actually feel her there and that alone is enough for your eyes to roll back in your head.

“yeah” you manage just so.

“yeah?” jackie pouts, almost mockingly, forcing them inside some more.

“oh my god” is all you can say to that.

usually, it would be you touching her. this is one of those rare occasions where the roles are reversed. where jackie gets to touch you. to fuck you, really: she's pressing her hips against you from where she’s lingering on top, draws them back as she does the same with her hand, then snaps them back immediately the moment she pumps her fingers into you. like she’s really fucking you, you think.

it briefly occurs to you that maybe, if jackie is so eager for this, you’ll have to invest in a strap so that you can fill each other up properly. then again, it would probably be too much to bring this idea up to her. you’ll consider yourself lucky if she so much as looks at you after tonight.

as soon as jackie’s third finger slips into you, you no longer bother to even try and hold your head up. she’s never fucked you like that and you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing for this feeling back.

she’s steadily pressing, curling, and exploring with three of her fingers and all you can do is chant cries of her name as you try to ride her hand.

your head falls to the side, into the pillows. a necessary but pointless try to stifle your moans.

“jackie please”

you can hear her mumbling words of “that’s it” and “take it” against your temple but it’s white noise to what you feel when her thumb finds your clit, rubbing in fast circles that match the brutal pace she’s set. even jackie is panting now. her wrists must be aching, at this rate, but she’s not stopping. you wonder if she’s as wet for you as you are for her. you know how easy it is to get her wet. so she must be, it wouldn’t surprise you if she’s stained your bed.

in the end, these aren’t the thoughts that push you over the edge. it’s jackie’s voice urging you to “cum” to “please cum for me”.

the rest of the world blurs in and out of focus and, for as long as your orgasm lasts, there’s nothing but the pleasure that explodes in your abdomen and leaves you shaking on the mattress.

you choke out a moan as it washes over you. jackie is watching you, her mouth hanging open like it only dawns upon her now that she's got this kind of effect on you.

even as the pleasure starts to fade, your thighs are still shaking. jackie is almost hesitant about lifting her hand from between your legs, though she makes a point of not looking down at your arousal on her before she wipes it off on the mattress.

“holy shit” you mutter, staring at the ceiling above and dropping the weight of your head back onto the pillows. your whole body feels ten times lighter than it did mere minutes ago.

reality sinks in soon enough though.

after another deep breath, you turn to jackie. she's still sitting on your mattress, but her bare back is turned to you. stupidly enough, you try to reach out. she senses the movement and shoots you a sharp glance, so your hand freezes mid-air, never reaching her.

“don't” the sharpness in her voice has no right to sting the way it does. you pull your hand back, uselessly dropping it onto the mattress.

“jackie...”

“i said don't" she snaps all over again. "it's better this way”

better for who? you wonder. the question burns but you force yourself to bite it back. there's no point in trying to push her further. you watch jackie reach for her discarded clothes on the floor. her movements are hurried as she pulls her shirt back over her head. like if she's frantic enough about it, it'll all go away.

“was it something i-” “no,” she immediately interrupts. with her shirt back on, she stands. “don’t make this into something it’s not”

“jackie you don’t have to-“

“this didn’t mean anything” she interjects all over again. “we shouldn’t have…it was a mistake, okay? it won’t happen again”

“a mistake?”

it’s not the first time jackie calls it that. for a ‘mistake’ she’s been coming back a surprising amount of times. yet it always comes down to this.

“i don’t want to talk about it,” she snaps, her arms cross defensively over her chest as she turns toward her bed. “we have nationals tomorrow. we need to focus”

“are you serious right now?” your voice rises slightly. “jackie, you can’t just-“

“i can,” she says firmly. “and i am”

you sit there, half naked and stunned into silence as jackie climbs into her own bed and pulls the covers up to her chin, facing the wall so you can’t see her expression. her breathing is shaky, though, and you can tell she’s trying hard to steady it.

“fine,” you say stubbornly when you realize she’s actually serious. “pretend it didn’t happen. pretend it didn’t mean anything to you”

jackie doesn’t respond.

you sit in the stillness for what feels like an eternity. as you finally settle under the covers, your back turned to her, you hear jackie’s voice:

“stay away from me. for the rest of this trip”

you swallow hard, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “got it,” you whisper.

then, you just lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of her breathing. jackie doesn’t move, and neither do you. whatever you’d hoped might come from tonight has slipped right through your fingers.

eventually, jackie’s breathing evens out, and you wonder if she’s actually asleep or just pretending. either way, you close your eyes, trying to make the hurt fade.

#˙💌 ̟ !! ─ my works #jackie taylor #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x female reader #jackie taylor x fem!reader #jackie taylor x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x female reader #yellowjackets x you

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twoflowers · 16 hours ago

Text

Stiff Shoulders, Weak Knees: Sanji x Reader

Read on AO3

Description: Sanji has been hard at work in the kitchen; you decide his stiff shoulders need a bit of attention. Predictably, Sanji is a mess. You didn't realize it would be quite this easy to get Black Leg Sanji on his knees. (SFW, suggestive)

Tags: Massage, nosebleeds (of course), light fdom, female reader, no use of Y/N, no description of reader, AND: (Sanji's constant need for validation of his cooking skills, Sanji's eternal need to be of use to the people around him, and Sanji's fantasy of being a fairytale knight kissing the hand of a beautiful queen he has pledged undying loyalty to. This man is a dork, people!)

Word count: 1276. Something short and sweet while I work on a longer fic based on a prompt by @mere-mortifer

Give this video a thumbs up if this man should actually get a massage in part 2!

Stiff Shoulders, Weak Knees

Sanji startles when you put a hand on his shoulder, not because he didn't sense you behind him (he could never fail to notice you entering a room, has been feeling pleasant, anticipatory prickling on his scalp and the back of his neck since you entered the kitchen), but because you've never touched him like this before. An occasional brush of arms, sure. A slightly more frequent brush of fingers, absolutely. He only seems to lose his grip on dishes when he's handing them to you, which is by complete coincidence.

But your hand is firmly on his shoulder, fingers settling above his collarbone even when he turns to look at you.

“May I make anything for you?” He asks automatically. He carefully avoids looking at your hand in case you're touching him by accident - best not to remind you.

You smile fondly. “After tonight's dinner, I don't think I could eat anything else if I tried. It was excellent.”

Sanji can already feel his knees weakening. Excellent: now there's a good word, a perfect word, that he'll hold onto for later.

“I'm so glad you think so. I thought of you especially while making it.”

“You say that to all the ladies.”

“It's true.”

Your hand is still on his shoulder. You tighten it a bit, perhaps appreciatively, perhaps condescendingly. He isn't sure which option he likes best.

“I brought my plates back down.” You gently set them in the sink with your other hand, and Sanji immediately picks up his sponge again. He doesn't know when he dropped it.

“I'll get them done right away,” he stutters. “You're sure you don't want anything? A nightcap? Some tea? - I have a wonderful hibiscus from our last time on shore that would pair nicely with-”

“Sanji…” The quirk of your lip makes it certain: you are condescending him. A small shudder racks his shoulders.

“Mm?” His eyes flicker back and forth from you to the dishes.

“You're working too hard,” you squeeze sharply at his shoulder, and he jumps at the pain. He's biting his lip when he finally makes eye contact, cheeks already starting to flush.

“See? Your muscles are so stiff.” You move behind Sanji, slipping your other hand up his back and to his opposite shoulder. You dig your thumbs into the muscles bracketing his spine, and he jerks forward toward the sink as if pulled by an invisible force. “Does that hurt?”

“You could never hurt me,” he breathes.

“Oh?” You tighten your grip, thumbs poking deeply into his stiff back and stroking upwards to his neck. Hard, firm pressure.

Sanji’s hands reach out to grip the edge of the sink. The sponge falls forgotten into soapy water. His knuckles are white, arms trembling. “Nothing… you do to me could ever hurt me.” His voice is wavering in a delicious way. “Even if it’s painful.”

You hum thoughtfully, dipping one of your thumbs under the collar of his shirt. Skin swipes against skin, and Sanji lets out a whine.

“We can’t have our cook in anything less than peak condition, can we?” You mumble, still thumbing his soft skin.

Sanji lets out something halfway between a gasp of pleasure and a laugh of disbelief, hands clenching still tighter.

“We need you healthy,” your hands move down his back, resting just under his shoulder blades. “I need your cooking.”

Somehow, that’s what breaks him. He arches forward with a groan, shoulders shaking.

“Let me help you relax,” you offer. “How about a massage?”

One of Sanji’s hands shoots from the sink to under his nose. He audibly swallows; blood dribbles down his fingers as he pulls his hand away. He nods weakly.

“What was that?” You can’t help but prod, not when he’s this vulnerable. Sometimes you feel like Sanji is a big bruise that you can’t help but poke at.

He nods again. Your hands instantly find his waist, thumbs stroking circles through his suit jacket.

“Use your words.”

“Please. Anything.”

“Such good manners,” you coo. You slip your hands away from Sanji, savoring the way his body freezes in anticipation. You take a lace handkerchief from the counter and gently cup his chin, turning his face towards you.

He looks so small, curling forward like he can’t trust his knees to hold him upright. His face is an impressive shade of red, almost as dark as the blood dripping over his plush, bitten lips. His eyes, surprisingly, aren’t as gleaming and heart-shaped as they usually are around you.

You can’t help but grin at having finally caught him so off-guard. His eyes become wide, almost frantic, as you swipe a thumb over his chin. There you are. Finally, finally, I’ve reached underneath.

You hold his face more firmly and bring the towel up to clean him, but he flinches. Not away from you- you have a feeling he couldn’t move away if he tried.

“I don’t want to stain it,” he all but begs. “It was… I was planning on using it for plating your evening tea.”

“I told you I’m not hungry.” It’s blatant, obvious teasing, but Sanji’s eyes droop miserably nonetheless.

“Here we go…” You wipe the handkerchief under his nose. Blood saturates lace, and Sanji’s eyes flutter shut in defeat.

When you’re done, you pull away and fold the cloth carefully. Sanji watches in equal parts confusion, misery, and awe. When you tuck it into your pocket, Sanji gasps, another trickle of blood falling onto his lips.

“I just finished cleaning you up,” you scold.

Sanji’s lip quivers from the humiliation, but you quickly lean forward and place your lips under his nose. It’s barely a kiss. You pull away shortly after, tongue darting out to taste his still-warm blood.

Sanji drops to his knees so hard you hear bone hit wood. His shaking hands grasp one of yours, pulling it to his lips: no contact, just puffs of hot, frantic breath. One knee up, and he’d look like a soldier being knighted by his queen.

“May I?” He’s trembling. He almost looks like he’s salivating. Your hand is small in his, but his are so much softer, skin scrubbed down from washing dishes, still red-tinged from the sink’s hot water.

You nod, and he gasps into the first kiss. His lips linger on the back of your hand, wet and bloody. You flip it over, and he moans, kissing your palm and trailing up your inner arm. The entire time, his eyes are on yours, searching for the faintest hint of displeasure.

“Sanji?”

He immediately pulls away, breathing hard, still tentatively holding your hand.

“Yes?” He looks ready for any command. Blood is smeared across his face and up your arm. You didn’t realize it would be quite so easy to get Black Leg Sanji on his knees, but you should have expected as much.

“The goal was to make you more comfortable. You look like you’re hurting your knees.”

Sanji shakes his head with enough ferocity that his bangs are knocked out of place, almost covering his other eye. “I could never complain about being allowed this.”

He looks at your arm with some panic, then begins to wipe the blood away with his own shirtsleeve.

“Sanji. Stand up.”

He obeys immediately.

“We are going to go to my quarters,” you say.

He nods along dumbly.

“And you are going to lie on my bed.”

His face flushes a brilliant red.

“And I’m going to give you an incredible massage.”

He swallows, swaying forward on his feet. You take the cue to grab him by his tie and lead him down the hallway, dishes long forgotten.

#sanji x reader #sanji #one piece sanji #one piece x reader #monster trio x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji #one piece #this is so self indulgent

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