#but i think it just ended up sounding pathetic LOL.

[moldwood]

okay chatgpt if youre so great then locate me a gay bear in my area who's half a foot taller than me, is kind, is genuine, spends his free time wisely doing things that bring him joy instead of misery, is into nothing i'm into so that we can have new conversations we've never had before, thinks i'm really smart and is impressed with everything i do and who will go to the gym with me and walk in the woods and picnic and who will be the one to remember the minicooler with ice for the koolaid since i've got everything else covered and who dresses well and has back dimples and has a hog like his politics (hangs on the left side of the fence) and who cooks alright and who thinks my neuroses are not endearing or cutesy but actually amazing and who uses flashdrives to back up his data instead of the cloud and who hasn't seen all the same movies as me so we have stuff to watch on our nights in and who sharpens his pencils when he's done with them before putting them away so they're ready for next time and who would be into a man with the presence of a domineering white borzoi in a red collar with gold spikes and who refills the water pitcher and has an air fryer and who is always looking for something that i know where it is. and make him freakyyyyy

[rafesangelita]

omg loveeee sheep!reader <3333

love how you said Rafe gets annoyed with all the stuffies on her bed, I can just imagine he's lying back on her bed and she's on top, kissing him and trying to grind on his thigh, but even though he thinks he threw all the stuffies on the floor he keeps finding more like digging into his back and getting in his way and he gets frustrated and makes her grind on one of her big teddy bears until she cums in her panties omggggg

warnings: mean!rafe, kissing, heavy petting, dry humping, thigh riding, rafe curses at reader in frustration, riding a stuffed animal lol, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, male masturbation

a/n: first fic with sheep!reader, i’m so happy that so many of you loved her <3 leave me some req’s!

“fuck— hold on,” you shyly pulled away from your boyfriend’s lips, watching as he threw yet another stuffed animal onto the floor, “this is ridiculous, you know that?” he pulled you back down, his large hands palming and groping the globes of your ass from underneath your skirt. “but you got all of those for me..” you whimpered, dragging your hips against his toned thigh. rafe kissed you deeply, the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth making a surprised ‘oh!’ fall from your lips. you were so innocent in his eyes, he loved to do things that would make your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“yeah, but do you have to have them all on your bed? i could build you a shelf or ‘somethin—” just then, he adjusted himself with you still pathetically trying to hump his thigh when another stuffie digged into his ribs. “goddammit, y/n!” your eybrows knitted together in worry, his tone making you jump. he cursed under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat up, taking you with him. “m’sorry, i didn’t mean to yell at you.” he stroked the side of your face, eyes falling onto the huge teddy bear that sat at the corner of your bed. “matter of fact, why don’t you grab that one there at the end?”

you looked back at the teddy bear rafe won you from the fair before you two had officially started dating. “aw, i love this one.” you got up, carrying it over as rafe patted the empty spot next to him. “yeah, i know. you love all of them right?” you nodded, a little confused as to where he was taking this. “well since you love them so much, and they keep appearing out of nowhere, you could hump that instead.” you blinked at his words, your underwear damp with your need for release. “you’re telling me you’ve never done that before?” rafe whispered.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t. you remembered grinding on the same teddy bear the night rafe got it for you. he had kissed before letting you go inside, the kiss being so dreamy, your mind couldn’t help but wander at what else he was really good at. you had took the bear to your room that night and pretended it was rafe instead. “look at your face.. you have done it before,” a wicked smile adorned his mouth. “show me how you did it.” rafe was palming himself through his shorts when you straddled the damned thing.

you started moving, a whine emitting from your pretty little mouth as you finally got the friction you were looking for. he continued to rub himself over his cargos, a sigh leaving his lips as he grew harder by the minute. rafe loved hearing those moans and whimpers of yours, the sound making his eyebrows knit together. soon, he had taken himself out of his underwear, shamelessly stroking his cock as tears rolled down your cheeks in frustration. even though you were still making yourself feel good, you just felt so empty. “rafe..” you cried, “please, i need you inside..” hearing you beg was his favorite.

“me too, baby, i’m fuckin’ aching,” he groaned, you looked down at his mean, throbbing cock, “make yourself cum in those panties and maybe i’ll give it to ‘ya.” determined, you moved your hips faster, your glossy lips swollen from biting on them so hard. your nails dug into the soft material of your teddy bear, your peak starting to form in your tummy. your thighs ached for a break, but the need to have rafe’s cock fucking you stupid was surpassing any kind of discomfort you felt. “ah, fuck!” rafe had to stop touching himself, the only place he wanted his cum to be was inside of those soft, slick walls of your cunt.

not being able to resist himself any longer, rafe leaned forward, taking one of your tits in his mouth as he lapped at the sensitive bud. you nearly screamed at the added stimulation, cradling his head to keep him close while your high washed over you in pure ecstasy. rafe watched you tremble and shake, his hands coming up to still drag your cunt across the teddy bear despite your pleas for him to stop. he loved to see you overstimulated. “n-no more!” you gasped. rafe ignored you, not stopping until you came again, a mess gushing from between your thighs.

you couldn’t help but double over, falling into your boyfriend’s chest as he shushed your cries. “fuck, you always do so good for me.” he praised, leaving open mouth kisses up your shoulder. you fell limp in his arms, small pants leaving your lips as he stood up, throwing you back down on your bed. you hissed, your hand coming up to hold your back. “shit! did i hurt you, baby?” rafe turned you over, his eyes falling on a stuffed animal with hard plastic eyes. “that’s it— i’m making you that shelf!” he scolded.

[storiesoflilies]

a touch of salt, a taste of flesh

synopsis: in which toji cannot decide whether or not he wants to eat or love the pretty little human he saved from drowning. w.c: 2k.

pairing: merman!toji fushiguro x f!reader.

warnings: mature themes! mentions of gore and blood, mentions of drowning, open ending. sfw but MDNI!

a/n: if you saw me post this yesterday no you didn’t. please don’t let the fic flop this time lol. heavily inspired by this delicious art!

divider / ao3

the ocean loved to keep her secrets.

she coveted every single one of them, for each was a precious pearl of knowledge about her soul. to know even a single one was to be doomed to a life of fear, to be at the mercy of her passing whims, because you could never tell when she would decide to punish you for it and bash you into pieces.

she didn’t think she knew anything at all about the ocean.

but here she was, coughing up salty secrets trapped deep within her lungs.

again.

while a pair of green eyes watched her.

they were always watching her.

“why do you continue to tempt the sea?” he purred, a slight smirk touching his lips. “little human”

little human.

because that is what she was, and what he most certainly wasn't.

it was in the way he smiled at her – cold and dark and cruel as the smothering sea that had tried snuff her out, curling around her throat like tendrils of seaweed.

a dark, shark-like tail rose from the sea as the creature tilted his head, wet strands of his black hair dripping to the side. he winced every time she coughed some more, as if it were far too loud for his liking, and looked down at her like she was a grain of sand stuck between his scales.

she probably was nothing.

especially not to something like him.

“do you really need to know what it’s like when death creeps up on you?” he continued, dismissively waving a clawed, scaly hand at her. “i could always just tell you how it feels.”

she sucked in a shaky, pathetic heaving breath of sea air into her chest, still gasping and sputtering onto the white-washed sand. the coarse grains scratched her palms painfully, and she tried to calm herself, breathing in and out with the rise and fall of the tide.

his eyes narrowed playfully, thin slits of green in the night. “there, there. you’ll be just fine.”

she didn’t feel like she would be.

there was nothing comforting about him at all.

he was a predator.

his teeth were just that little bit longer than they should be – sharper, pearlescent, and flashing dangerously in the silver moonlight. even though this was the third time he has saved her from succumbing to the depths of the sea, she still didn’t know why he had saved her, or why he still continued to.

but it had to be for something.

or else, he wouldn’t have saved her the first time. he would have let her fingers disappear beneath the waves forever, let her sink to the bottom of the darkest ocean. he wouldn’t keep on watching her from the shoreline, circling round and round the island like a shark drawing ever closer to its prey.

waiting to strike, ready to bite.

“why?” was all she could muster in a hoarse voice, sand tickling her throat.

“why?” he repeated, that saccharine smirk playing on his lips again. “why what, little human?”

“why do you keep on singing?”

the green slits widened a fraction, and he started to laugh. her heart hammered against her chest, and she was afraid she might have said the wrong thing.

“is that what you would call it?” he asked incredulously, a sprinkle of offense creeping into his voice. “singing?”

she gulped.

what else would she call it?

that was what it sounded like to her. she would sit beneath a gnarled tree at the cliffs’ edge, where the earth dipped sharply towards the sea, its rocky face curled over the sea like an old man’s wrinkly hand. there, she would listen, trying to make sense of the strange words wafting from his tongue in the salty breeze.

she would’ve started a war for him.

would have shoved her arms into the bodies of the bent and broken, rummage through all their bones to offer him their still-warm, unbeating hearts.

but there was something in his haunting baritone that made her want to cry, to surrender to the sea, naively believing she could somehow help save him from his own restlessness. to block out the echoing memories that, in that moment, were blurred together and she wasn’t sure if they belonged to him or her.

there had to be some kind of magic involved.

because tonight was the third time she had heard his haunting song.

and the third time she had mindlessly wandered into the arms of the ocean and her false welcome, full of promises she had no intention of keeping.

despite knowing full well that she couldn’t even swim.

his laughter died with the wind, a low, lilting hum lingering at the edge of his words. “maybe you shouldn’t be listening so closely,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with something that looked like hunger. “the sea doesn’t sing for humans.”

he drifted a touch closer to where she was lying, slicing through the shallow water like a blade. she sat up straight, digging her heels into the sand to scramble away from him.

“and yet, here you are,” he said, amusement curling his lips. “again.”

she licked the salt from the cracks in her lips, stuttering, “i-i don’t k-know why.”

maybe it was her obvious helplessness, or perhaps he could smell her hopeless desperation like rotting flesh, but his eyes softened.

“it’s the call for my…” he trailed off, smacking his lips as he searched for the word. “heart.”

he said the it disdainfully, like he didn’t really want to believe he had a heart at all. she couldn’t imagine that he had one either, or that it wanted for anything beyond his most base desires.

flesh and blood.

“your heart?” she repeated in disbelief.

he glowered at her, his tail flicking through the water in annoyance. “yes,” he said, adding much more quietly. “and it seems i’ve found it.”

run away, now.

“w-what?” she sputtered, salt-coated sand flying to the back of her throat.

the creature grinned widely, mischievous fangs glinting, “oh, you know, little human.”

she did know; she just didn’t want to admit it.

“i-i never– i don’t understand.”

“no? then why do you keep trying to swim to me?”

she didn’t know what to say to that.

it was silent for a long time, the sweeping sea moving backwards and forwards like the ebb of time between them. she could see more of him too, even though she knew better than to look.

and he was beautiful.

his tail was longer than she thought, silky smooth and gray like a shark’s was, marred with pink scars and rakes as deep and painful as the ocean. it curled high above his head as he lay belly down in the sand.

oh, but his eyes.

they were a chest of shimmering emeralds, locked onto her every minuscule movement. but his pupils were infinite, a black hole of mysteries and knowledge of ancients city that had come and gone, of seas of blood and red misery.

yet, he was here, on this unremarkable beach at the edge of the world, calling for his heart – for her.

and she’d somehow answered.

“what’s your name?” she blurted out.

there was a strange rumble in his chest before he replied with, “toji.”

toji.

it reminded her of the cold kiss of winter, the inevitable conquest of snow over the trees and blooms, covering everything in its white death. he belonged to the ice-covered seas of the north and south, definitely not from places where the sun and joy pierced through the waves.

there was no doubt that toji was king of those icy seas, reigning supreme over the darkness found within the kelp forests of the deep trenches.

“how old are you?”

toji tilted his head curiously, completely silent as he pondered and searched for an answer.

“how long have humans sailed the seas?”

how very lonely.

she knew she shouldn’t feel anything for toji, least of all feel sorry for him. but here she was, itching for him to take her hand and drag her into the depths he called home. maybe that was what his song meant; perhaps all he wanted was someone to share in ruling over the ice and sea.

how ironic that she couldn’t even swim.

he drummed his sharp fingers against a closed fist, slow and irritatingly suspenseful. “you’re bleeding, you know?”

she frowned and looked down at both sides of her palms, between her pruned fingers, and then further down.

oh.

there was a small stream of blood beneath her left foot, trailing toward the sea before being swept away with the tide.

straight towards toji.

that was when she saw the dangerous twitch dancing on his scarred lip, and she realized just how long he had been holding back for.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered breathlessly, and she truly meant it.

toji’s eyes narrowed again, but there was a spark of anger in them this time. “don’t apologize,” he hissed. “never– not for that.”

for that, for bleeding.

would a shark thank her for covering up a wound?

she didn’t think so.

toji asked for her name, and she offered it freely, willingly. he repeated it loudly, the deep baritone of his voice starting to sing her name in an increasingly agitated-sounding tone.

mine, mine, mine.

her name wasn’t her own anymore.

he was looking at her now, like he wanted to slice open her chest, pull out her heart, and play with the strings that made it beat. to shove his fingers into her aorta to say that he had been really inside her – his – heart.

mine, mine, mine.

and then, his cold hand was gripping her ankle, claws lightly digging into her skin.

she let out a yelp as toji dragged her toward him, the sea rushing over her cheeks and into her ears. he was on top of her, the wetness of the sea bleeding into her, his weight heavy and suffocating, pushing every bit of air out of her fragile lungs. his fingers dug deep into her thighs, just about to pierce through the plush skin.

she beat against the hardness of his chest, “t- cough! toji, please, stop.”

but he wasn’t really there, caught somewhere between the whispering blood ocean and the misty memories haunting his soul.

a pearly tear slipped down his cheek.

“i ca-ah! can’t breath.”

the same deep sound rumbled from his chest, and toji lifted himself up from her ever so slightly. she sucked in great gasping breaths, her eyes teary and blurry as she looked at him through lashes laden with salt.

another milky tear fell from his left eye and dripped down onto the curve of her cheek.

“would you slip away?” toji whispered, his voice rolling over her like the tide, but he sounded far, far away. “into the sea, for me.”

she didn’t want to.

but then he started to hum low and sweet, his wet lips pressed to her neck, and she was ready to.

she could see through the mist and blood now, far above the clouds and the sky and the sun breaking through the horizon. her heart was burning with salt and secrets – secrets she didn’t know she possessed.

until now.

that she was one with the sea, and maybe always had been. so, she didn’t mind all that toji was slowly pulling her towards the depths instead of away from them.

a flash of brilliant green lit up the sky.

was it toji’s eyes or a farewell from the sorrowful sun?

she didn’t know; she didn’t care anymore.

she was his to keep now.

ི♡࿐

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[nickfowlerrr]

so inviting, i almost jump in.

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.

words: 4.5k

notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.

also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞

"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.

You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.

"Before you say anything-"

"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.

"Doll,"

"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.

"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."

Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.

"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"

You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.

"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.

"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"

"Mhm...maybe," you say.

"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.

"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.

You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.

You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.

But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...

A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.

Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.

That was an immediate 'no thank you'.

You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.

--

The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.

You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.

You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.

There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.

"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.

"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.

"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"

"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"

He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.

"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.

You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.

"You have to come over."

"No, I really don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You're staying."

"No, I'm not."

"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.

"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I lied."

"Huh? To me? About what?"

"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."

"Another lie?"

"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.

"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.

"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.

Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.

"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.

"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.

"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.

"You had only asked me to be your fake date."

"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Is that a yes?"

You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."

"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.

"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.

--

More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.

And it's surprising how normal it all feels.

You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!

Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.

You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.

You were here.

With Bucky.

So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.

The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.

"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."

You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.

Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.

This is easy for him because it means nothing.

This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.

Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...

You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.

"Oo, countdown is going!"

The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.

You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.

You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.

As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

Two.

He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.

One.

"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.

"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.

His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…

You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.

You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.

You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.

The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.

"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.

You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.

There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.

Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.

The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...

He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?

Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.

You look at yourself once more in the mirror.

Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.

You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.

You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.

"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.

"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.

"I'm sorry. About kissing you."

"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.

His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.

He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.

You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.

He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.

You walk back out into the living room as he follows.

"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.

"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"

"... I guess not."

"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."

He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"

"What are friends for if not clean up?"

He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.

He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.

"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."

"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."

"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."

"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."

"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"

Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.

"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."

"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.

Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.

Other things, of course, being you.

When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.

He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...

Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.

Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.

"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.

"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"

"If you don't ask, you'll never know."

He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.

But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?

"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.

Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.

It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.

Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...

You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.

You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.

You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.

"I guess I'll head out, then."

"Oh," he breathes.

"Oh?"

"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."

"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.

Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.

"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."

"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.

"What's your resolution?" he asks.

"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."

"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."

"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.

"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.

You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.

"And you?"

Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.

"I…would like to communicate better."

You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."

"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.

"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.

As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.

"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."

You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.

It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.

"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."

"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.

"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.

Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.

"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.

You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.

Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.

"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.

He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.

"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.

It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.

You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...

[moonstruckme]

Hey! love your writing so so much!! im just here to request a little drabble with one of the marauders boys (or all three cus the more the merrier lol) where the reader's stomach hurts and is bloated (maybe on period idk) but she is hesitant for him to cuddle or touch her stomach cus she is insecure of it <3 thanks so much, keep up your amazing writing

Thank you gorgeous <3

cw: period pains, insecurity around stomach

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 526 words

“Baby.” Sirius is pouting. It feels a bit unfair, considering you’re the one in pain. “You’re being terribly selfish.” 

“Stop.” You shift away from his hand, trying to creep around your side, and hold in a low pained sound at the movement. 

“Stop holding out on me,” he shoots back. His voice is equal parts fond and teasing, wheedling in the way he knows is most likely to get to you. 

This is basically routine by now, and one of your least favorites of all the routines you’ve developed with your boyfriend. Your period will come, and in those first couple of days when you feel the grossest and most pathetic you’ve ever been, one part of you wants Sirius to hold you while the other part wants him nowhere near you. Predictably, Sirius sides with the first part. He always wins.

“I just wanna help, gorgeous.” He lets his voice drop into a more genuine register, leaning down to smear a kiss across your temple. “I know it’s not much, but I can at least give you a good cuddle, yeah?” 

Truthfully, that’s all there is left to do. Sirius isn’t giving himself enough credit. Because of him, your craving for chocolate cake has been sated, you’ve been delivered pain relievers as soon as you’re allowed to have them, and there’s a warm bag of rice resting low on your abdomen. Even now, his hand is massaging gently at the muscles of your lower back, keeping the worst of your cramps at bay. 

You sigh, pulling your knees a bit tighter to your chest. You feel unfit to be perceived right now. You can hardly think about your boyfriend looking at your bloated stomach, much less touching it. 

“I just feel so gross,” you say. 

“Well, that’s just sacrilege.” Sirius lifts his head, looking down on you in mock horror. “And you’re the loveliest thing I know, so it’s blatantly untrue to boot. No one is allowed to talk about my girl like that, even you, got it?” 

It’s not his words that get you so much as his tone, so totally scandalized that it tugs a laugh from inside your chest. Sirius grins, but the muscles in your abdomen spasm in protest, and he winces when the pain shows in your face. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he coos, dark brows bunched compassionately as he presses another kiss to your hairline. “I’m sorry, baby. You gonna let me kiss it better?” 

You give him a look which you hope conveys great reluctance, but Sirius’ eyes light anyway. 

“C’mere, honey.” He doesn’t give you a chance to change your mind, lifting your shirt to touch his lips delicately to your stomach before sidling up to you and wrapping his arms around your middle. “That’s better, isn’t it?” 

It is. Pretty much instantly, actually, but you don’t have to admit that. Sirius burrows his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder, nipping playfully at your skin. You think he knows anyway. 

“Stubborn thing,” he says. “Fine, you can be excused because you’re poorly. You always get your way in the end, don’t you?” 

No, that’s him. 

[elliesdoll]

pt.2 to my angsty loser!ellie drabble 𝜗𝜚

nsfw! ellie gets caught and that’s literally it. i hate this so bad but it’s whateva

(part 3 will have lesbian gay lesbian boob vagina butt sex i promise. no more ellie masturbating)

find pt.1 here! & pt.3 here :3

daily click! don’t buy tlou free palestine

after ellie’s pathetic masturbation sesh, she vowed to herself to fucking pull it together.

she wasn’t gonna let herself mope over you, because she knew you had an active sex life. she forced herself to be fine with it. to be fine with the people you decided to bring to your bed. she wanted to be near you without feeling this suffocating feeling of yearning and lust filling her insides.

and if that meant tucking her feelings to the deepest pits of hell, then so fucking be it.

a few weeks had passed since that little moment you and ellie had. the one where she had showed up to your house in the middle of you hooking up with someone.

the morning after, she has awoken to a string of texts from you, all apologizing for that awkward moment.

11:34pm

ellie i’m so sorry you had to see me like that. i didn’t mean to come off rude.

i wanted to go after you but i couldn’t really leave her alone in my house lol

els?

i’m really sorry. i hope u don’t think you can’t come to my house ever again ☹️ i actually thought it was sweet you showed up like that.

2:12am

goodnight ellie. i hope things aren’t awkward between us.

god, you made her feel awful. you were too fucking sweet to her. the way you never missed a single night when telling her goodnight, even after something like that. she rubbed her swollen face, mainly from crying, and typed a short message to you.

9:47am

hey, sorry for rushing away like that. idk why i did that lmfao

and things aren’t awkward at all, i shouldn’t have just showed up unnanounced

no els seriously! you should do that more often. tbh i wanted to hang out with you more than that girl… but yk i couldn’t 💔💔

she smiled at your kind text, glad that you two could just put it behind yourselves. her moment of relief was quickly replaced by disgust, when she saw the state of herself and her bed. her inner thighs sticky with dried cum, and her sheets below her still damp with all the extra release.

“gross..” she mumbled to herself, getting up and immediately throwing on some boxers and a tshirt, feeling way too vulnerable being naked like that. she went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up, then threw her sheets in the wash.

since then, you two have been fine. you do your weekly hangout sessions, where you grab food and talk about anything for hours on end. it’s almost as if nothing happened.

until one of your sleepovers.

you always convinced ellie to spend the night at your house, at least every other week. whenever it’d get dark outside and ellie would start to get up, you’d give her that irresistible pout and “ughhh, c’mon els.. just spend the night. it’s too dark out for you to go home.”

and every damn time, she agreed. how could she ever say no to you?

one night, you and ellie are high out of your minds, talking about god knows what. all giggly and soft, you two exchange jokes and stories that really make no sense. but, to you two, it’s the funniest thing in the world. after a laughing fit between the two of you, you wipe your tears and sigh.

“god, i love you.”

you say, still catching your breath from that tummy tensing laugh. the words were just an expression of admiration for her. but to ellie, they were so much more.

“i love you too.”

she says, looking you in the eyes. she’s high, so she’s not thinking too hard about how sincere she sounds. but she really should’ve, because that soft tone of her voice and the glint in her eyes make it sound way too fucking real.

“woah,” you let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. “that was a bit theatrical.”

“wh..what do you mean?”

ellie asks, getting a bit nervous. she’s not her usual, stuttery self though. she keeps it together. thanks to the weed.

“just the way you said i love you. it felt like… deep.”

you move your hands as you talk, and ellie just shrugs. but she knows she’s fucked. before she could stop her feelings from resurfacing, she gets that familiar tingle in her belly and pounding of her heart.

“shut up,” she rolls her eyes, trying to play it off.“you’re dramatic.”

her voice wavered with those last words. fuck, her voice wavered. why did she feel like she was gonna have a breakdown any second now? she had to get the hell away from you.

“gotta piss. be back in a bit.”

ellie says quickly, so quick you don’t even have time to retort to her calling you dramatic. you just sit there, confused. you could’ve sworn you heard some uncertainty in her voice, but you let her go.

meanwhile, ellie made a beeline for your bathroom. she shut the door and leaned her head against the wood. she let out a deep sigh, trying to calm herself. the fact that she felt the most intense feeling that she couldn’t even describe over a mere “i love you” had her cringing.

she just couldn’t get over you. the entire night, she tried her best not to think about how good your tits looked in your pajama top, or how badly she wanted to just shove her face into your ass in those little shorts.

her thinking over these details led to the predicament that she’s in right now. sweatpants around her knees, legs slightly spread as she rubs one out while leaned up against your bathroom sink. her eyes are shut and her head is thrown back, letting out the quietist grunts she could muster.

she knew she shouldn’t be doing this, she promised herself that she would stop. but god, you made it hard. she was so wet, it made her cheeks flush red. the simple thought of you had her literally dripping around her own fingers.

you were still in your room, biting your thumbnail as you wait for ellie. you start to get worried, thinking you made her upset by commenting on how she said ‘i love you’. so, you being the thoughtful friend you are, go to check on her.

you quietly walk to the bathroom, putting your ear against the door. you were going to knock and mutter a little “els? are you okay?”, but the sounds you heard made you lose all the words in your mouth.

soft, sharp inhales and tiny sticky noises is all you can hear through the door. it’s a bit hard to listen to, since the soft buzz of the yellow light in there overpowers it. what the hell is she doing in there?

you knew this was wrong. an invasion of privacy to the max. but your curiosity was getting the better of you, and you were worried. you put your hand on the doorknob and slightly twisted it, not expecting it to open. but it did.

did ellie forget to lock the door?

ellie doesn’t hear the soft click of the door opening, too lost in her own pleasure as she practically humps her own hand. it had been too fucking long since she could touch herself to the thought of you. her only guilty pleasure.

her head was still thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she rubbed her clit at a shockingly fast pace. and you saw it all. you had opening the door just enough for half of your face to see through the opened crack. your whole body froze at the sight in front of you.

she was so captivating. her face looking all fucked out, her pale thighs that were so tensed up, the shininess of her slick that smeared on the heel of her palm. even the quick glimpses of her gorgeous auburn bush that you could see if her hoodie rode up enough.

your tummy felt weird. first, you felt guilty for eavesdropping on your best friend. second, you were confused why the fuck ellie decided now would be the best time to masturbate. third, you were turned on. disgustingly turned on, at that.

a few seconds of watching ellie made your panties get all sticky and wet, and that burning hot feeling in your lower belly. you couldn’t look away.

“ohh, fuck— please,”

your brain short circuited hearing ellie say that. god, she was so lost in her own pleasure. so lost that she accidentally knocked over your toothbrush and hand soap on the sink, causing her to jolt and snap her eyes open.

she looks down at the bottle of soap and toothbrush that landed in front of the bathroom door. the door that’s cracked. her eyes shoot up, and there’s where she sees a glimpse of you running away. a quick flash, but she knew it was you.

she is so fucked.

I HATE RHISNSO BAD RRRR😡

btw i finished this literally like 3 days ago and didn’t wanna post it hut i did anyway ☺️☺️

[parfaitblogs]

loml ❀ s. reid x reader

in which even six years apart isn’t too much time for spencer to come see you.

pairing: ex!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst/comfort sort of tags: that freaky shit (soul crushing angst). a lot of nothing. approximately the time morgan left the bau (it's mentioned). spoilers for 5x9 (‘100’) if you haven't watched it yet... fade to black.  word count: 1.2k a/n: heyyyy… enjoy my the contents of my sad brain lol. this can kinda be a waiting room pt. 2 if you squint. i’m super sick right now so here’s a draft i wasn’t going to post until august (although it’s july 31 so is it technically august?) because i have no energy to write rn. whoops. enjoyy

Your mother once told you she doesn't think you can be just friends with some people. 

They're either there to be in your life forever, souls so deeply woven together that you have to be more than friends. Or they're fleeting, and your lives will line up for a short enough period of time that they'll impact you, and then you'll never see them again. 

You wished Spencer Reid was the latter.

Not at first. No, at first he was the man you were going to marry. You were certain of it. Discussing your wedding with your friends because it was going to happen, and you were picturing him at the altar. You had fantasised what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life so many times, dedicating so many hours to the concept of it, that when you lost it, you mourned the loss of it as much as you mourned the relationship. 

But Spencer Reid was the former. Unfortunately so. Losing so many years to a man you didn't even speak to anymore, because you just can't get over it. Can't get over how you could give someone so much of you, and they will still throw it all away for a narrative they've made up in their mind. Can't get over the narrative he made up of you. 

It was justifiable, you supposed. His boss had just lost his (ex) wife because of the job. It was tough for everyone on the team. You didn't think it was so bad he would freak out as much as he did, though. 

Because in his mind you were next. He was going to lose you as well. And even that stupidly large brain of his couldn't see how ridiculous that sounded. He refused to listen to you when all he could hear was the screaming in his head of you being next, and the statistics of female abductions. Statistics that were no different between the day before the incident, and the day he broke up with you. They were just louder to him.

An achingly long amount of time had passed from the last time you spoke to him. A pathetic meeting you had requested two months after the breakup, because your life was falling apart and maybe seeing him would make it better.

It didn't. 

You wondered if you'd still be shedding tears over him if you hadn't met him that night.

You heard your name, and so your head lifted from your lap. Right, you thought, bitterly. He was here. In your apartment. The same one he used to sleep at, for days on end.

You knew triggers like the back of your hand. They were usually things that made sense. Loud noises, blood, anniversaries. Could you justify your trigger being a whole person? 

You hadn't known he was a trigger until that evening, when he had showed up at your apartment door with a bouquet of flowers that you didn't really want, and an insultingly pretty smile. You had broken down, right there in your doorway, crumpling to the floor in a hyperventilating, miserable heap. 

He had held you, and frustratingly so, it helped. He didn't speak when he had done it, until you were calmer and were muttering apologies to him, embarrassment replacing the upset. 

At which he shushed you. You listened. 

"Why are you here?" you broke the silence that followed his calling of your name, voice shaky.

He exhaled audibly. "I wanted to see you."

"No, Spencer," you sniffled. "You don't get to come over with flowers just because you wanted to see me. Why are you here?"

He fell silent, and you wished you could crawl into his brain to see what he was thinking. You presumed a million things. 

"Morgan left," he said, quietly, and you felt your mouth go dry. 

"Oh."

Then; your eyebrows furrowed. Because did he really have no one to go to? You stared back at him for a few seconds, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about the weight between you two. Staring into his eyes was an easy way to forget that, apparently. It was comforting for you, but perhaps uncomfortable for him. 

Because he cleared his throat, and adjusted his position on the couch. "I didn't know where to go. And you said if I needed anything, you would be there and—"

"—People say that as a courtesy, Spencer," you breathed out.

"I know," he said, quickly. "But I really needed someone, and I genuinely didn't know where else to go."

You couldn't slam the door in his face even if you wanted to. Because now you were registering more than just your own emotions. The red rimming his eyes, the dusting of pink on his nose and above his lips. 

So, you nodded your head. "Okay. Come here," you said, opening your arms, and took him in between them. Albeit hesitantly. On both ends. 

This time he broke down, and you let him. His face pressed into the crook of your neck, your fingers entangled in his curls, scratching at his scalp in the best soothing motion you could. 

He cried until he had dehydrated his body, and your arms had begun to cramp from the position they were in. When he pulled back, your heart cracked a little more at the sight, his face wet with tears that stuck his hair to his cheeks, that you cleaned up. 

"I miss you."

You froze. He did as well, but for an entirely different reason. At the idea that he had said it. Not you. Him. The words decorated the air and hung there for minutes as you fell silent. 

Finally; "You don't mean that."

"Yes I do," his response was quick, as if expecting you to deny him of his own feelings.

"You're upset, and I'm comforting you. You miss Morgan. Not me. Transference," you mumbled, hands dropping from his face. 

"This isn't transference."

"Spencer."

You were right. You knew it in the way his shoulders sagged in defeat, and his lips parted as if to say something, only to clamp shut in mental defiance. 

"Maybe," he finally said, quietly. "But I do still miss you."

"It's been five years," you answered. He nodded his head in agreement. You exhaled. "I miss you too, Spencer."

He lips twitched, but never reached a smile. "You aren't seeing anyone, then?" he asked. 

"You can deduce that, I'm sure."

You were right, he could, and he nodded his head, lips reaching a smile, albeit sadly. "Yeah. Me neither."

"I also figured," you said. "You would've gone to your girlfriend if you had one."

"I would've," he nodded his head, laughing a breathy, awkward laugh. "Instead I went to my ex-girlfriend."

"You did." More uncomfortable silence, before you let out a sigh. Again. "Movie?"

"What?"

"Do you want to watch a movie?" you say the full sentence, a little slower than what was probably necessary. You knew him well enough to know that he hated talking about his feelings, he was an awful communicator. Had been, your brain screams at you. He could've changed. 

It seemed he hadn't, because he nodded his head, a smaller, more genuine smile painted his lips. "Yeah. Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[nagaytoe]

Got a req! Howlw about some angst? What would happen after the bad end?

Evanescent

(Adj.) Soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing

Solivan Brugmansia X Reader

TWs: Murder, attempted murder, weapons, just a lot of death in general, loss of loved one, shifting blame, like one mention of necrophilia

Word count: 2.3k

I am currently cooking up 3 more scenarios of what could've happened after the bad end on day 2 but this is the first one that's actually finished (there were just too many ideas popping into my head so ofc i have to write for all of them lmao)

Requests: open

Disclaimer: i tried my best to proof-read it and tried using they/them pronouns but when i first wrote it i used she/her, i just hope i got all of 'em lol

Also, apparently 'whose' can also be used for objects as well and not just for people??? Sounds wrong to me but if the internet says it's right then lets hope its right haha

SPOILERS FOR DAY 2 OF THE KID AT THE BACK

Sol was inconsolable, his face buried in your neck, tears staining your shirt. His arms were wrapped around you but you didn’t reciprocate the gesture. How could you anyways? You were dead. Stabbed by Sol's only friend, Hyugo, who was currently cleaning up the gory scene.

---------------------------------------------------

Just a few moments ago you stumbled upon a horrifying view: Your friend, best friend, and your first love, Jericho Ichabod, laid on the dirty ground of a shed whose door you just broke down, his head barely attached to the neck.

Your knees gave in beneath you as soon as you gazed upon Crowe, grabbing his body, shaking it and willing him to wake up again. How could this happen? He was well liked, nice to everyone he met, who would think about taking his life? You barely registered footsteps behind you because of how loud you were sobbing, but the clanking of metal on the ground didn't slip past you. Turning around, your eyes are met with the sight of someone you didn't expect. You expected a gang leader, a thug, everyone but the one who actually stood in front of you.

Solivan Brugmansia

Just yesterday you befriended the seemingly timid boy and now he was soaked in blood, his red eyes wide as your gazes met.

“[____]...?” Tears of his own started to well up in his eyes which currently roamed over your hunched figure.

“What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here, you need to leave!” By the end of his sentence he was yelling, tears streaming down his face.

Truly a miserable, pathetic sight.

“You killed him, you killed Crowe, didn't you?” Anger was bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. On the inside you were praying to whatever god was watching from heaven above, if there even was one to begin with, that all this was nothing more than a bad dream, hoping insistently to wake up. However, this was a nightmare you were not permitted to ever wake up from.

“I only did what I should've done years ago.” His words caused you to huff in disbelief, “You're not even gonna deny it, huh?”

“I would never lie to you, [____]” Was he fucking serious? He just killed someone, but at least he's not a liar? What the hell was wrong with him?! You were enraged, he had no reason to kill Crowe, to play god by ending his life and taking your love from you.

“Why? Why did you kill him?!”

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU AND HE TRIED TO TAKE YOU AWAY FROM ME! I COULDN'T SIT BY AND LET THAT HAPPEN… YOU'RE MINE! MINE ALONE!” he finally snapped, showing his true colors. Was everything he showed you before just a facade? It had to be.

The words he just spoke left a disgusting taste in your mouth. Love? Love?! How dare he use this sweet word in such a disgusting fashion? How dare he taint it in order to justify his vile actions? It made you sick to your stomach and you were blinded by rage as you lunged at him.

“YOU MONSTER!”

You unbuckled the strap of his choker and pulled on it, strangling him in the process.

“YOU LOVE ME?! I LOVED HIM! HE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME! MY BEST FRIEND, MY FIRST LOVE, MY SAVIOR! YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME, I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU! DON'T YOU DARE IMAGINE YOU KNOW ME IN THE SLIGHTEST! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!”

Sol was clawing at your wrists by now, but it was no use, every action of his seemed slow and heavy, as if it took a lot of effort, almost as if he was paralyzed.

His hands fell to the side and just as you thought you managed to avenge your love something sharp pierced through your chest.

--

Here you were, taking your last breaths in the arms of the person you despise most.

“[____], please… please stay with me… don't leave me [____]...” his pleas were a stark contrast to what he is screaming at the person who stabbed you.

“HOW COULD YOU!? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

Then he went back to sobbing into your shoulder. He seemed completely out of it, switching between grief and anger every other second.

You couldn't seem to make out the words your killer was saying, everything they said was incoherent, except for the last two words:

“No witnesses.”

---------------------------------------------------

“What do you plan on doing? Hold them until they start rotting?”

Hyugo was standing in front of Sol, who was still sitting on the ground, sobbing and cradling you in his arms. After he managed to clean up the scene, the only thing left to do was the disposal of your corpse.

“Just kill me alongside them.” Sols voice was quiet, barely above a whisper and it was strained from crying and screaming so much. It hurt Hyugo to see his best friend like that.

“You know very well I can't do that.”

“YOU WERE ABLE TO KILL THEM THOUGH! I JUST GOT THEM BACK AND YOU TOOK THEM FROM ME!”

Hyugo couldn't hold back his anger anymore. How could Sol still fail to see that this would've never worked out either way?

“THEY TRIED TO KILL YOU!”

Hyugo sighed deeply in an effort to calm himself before continuing, “Even if I had only knocked them out, do you think they would’ve forgiven you for killing Crowe-”

“Don't you dare bring up that bastards name. All of this is his fault anyways. If it hadn't been for him… me and my sweet [____] would still be together now…”

Sols voice was laced with venom as he gripped your body tighter. You have stopped breathing by now, the color has long drained from your face and the warmth of your skin has vanished. All that was left was an empty shell of who you once were.

Just yesterday, you were breathing, talking, laughing. Now? Now you will never be able to do any such thing again.

“It was you or them, Sol. I need you to understand that. Do you truly believe they could've loved you back after finding out you killed someone? Do you think the two of you would have lived happily ever after?” The blue haired man was trying his best to reason with his best friend, but to no avail.

“We could've made it work, I know that we would have… We were destined to be together, there wouldn't have been any other way…Maybe I should just keep them…”

“Sol.” Hyugo put his hand on the taller males shoulder, who was still sitting on the sheds ground. “We need to bury them.”

Sol seemed to be pondering for a moment, the hold he had on your body relentless.

“I can't… I can't let them go. They're gonna be really scared if we bury them and leave them in the darkness forever…”

“Sol, I'll repeat myself one last time. We need to bury them. What else are we supposed to do with their body? Keep it?” Hyugo put his hands on his hips, his patience wearing thin.

“I see no reason to not keep it…” the males words were muttered, but his friend was still able to hear them.

“You can't be serious! Do you know what happens to a body when it decays? They'll have 2 weeks at best before there's nothing left of them, except for the bones.”

Sol knew his friend was right, but how was he supposed to let go of you?

“They deserve a gravestone… a funeral… they deserve a memorial and not to be buried in the woods like some dead animal…”

Hyugo sighed. He knew that there is pretty much nothing he could do right now to convince Sol to do the right thing, he will keep arguing until he gets his way.

“What's your plan?”

Sol considered his options for a few moments before responding,

“Let's call the cops, make it look like an accident or shift the blame onto someone else”

Hyugo scoffed, “And what do you plan to tell them? We don't exactly have an alibi and there aren't that many families with Katanas either, you know? The only other family I can think of right now is Subarus.”

Red eyes met Hyugos teal ones, it's obvious an idea struck Sol. “That's right…”

Hyugo immediately cut Sol off before the latter could finish his sentence.

“Absolutely not! I will not drag my brothers family into this.”

“He doesn't even like you!” Sol retorted.

The shorter males eyes grew wide for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure.

“You know what? Do whatever you want. Keep their body like some necrophilie if that's what you desire.” Turning on his heel, Hyugo began walking off. He already took care of everything necessary, cleaning the scene and disposing of the weapons alongside Crowes body. He was not in the mood to argue with someone whose judgment was clouded and wouldn't even listen to him in the first place.

Sols rage grew stronger by the minute. How dared he? Hyugo killed his one and only soulmate in cold blood, like they were nothing and now he walked off just like that? No… No, he won't. Sol won't let that happen. He couldn't let him disrespect you like that. Carefully lowering your body to the ground and standing up, just as Hyugo walked out of the cabin, Sol quickly lunged at the shorter, unsuspecting male.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Hyugo might be good with weapons but he wasn't all that strong physically.

Well, at least he was weaker than Sol. Since Hyugo buried his katana alongside any other evidence all he can fight with were his bare hands.

“SOL, GET OFF OF ME!”

Sols hands wrapped themselves around Hyugos throat, just like yours were wrapped around his not even half an hour ago. Pressing his friend's head into the dirt ground, Sol is blinded by rage. Hyugo clawed at the taller males wrists, kicking him but Sols grip won't loosen. Letting go of the hands that were wrapped around his throat, Hyugo felt the dirt ground around him for something he can potentially defend himself with and sure enough - he managed to grab ahold of a rock, swiftly smashing it against the side of Sols head.

The taller male staggered and collapsed on the floor next to Hyugo, who hit the exact right spot to knock someone out.

Hyugo stood up, dusting off his clothes and sighing. What a mess. He knew that he needed to get rid of the body, even if it'll drive Sol further into madness.

So that's what he did. He buried [____]s body deep in the forest before sitting down by Sol's side, waiting for him to wake up.

—————————

Sol didn't attempt to kill Hyugo again after the first time, though part of the reason might be the ax Hyugo found in the shed and kept on him afterwards for self-protection. Either way, Sol acted like Hyugo didn't exist. To him he was dead anyways.

He tried his best, tried to go to school but the next days there were hell. People talked, gossiped, conspired as to what could've happened to [____] and Crowe. Were they kidnapped by the mafia? Did they commit suicide together? Did they run away together? Did they join a cult? People made up all kinds of stories in order to make sense of the situation, but only Sol and Hyugo were the ones who knew the truth.

After a few days, Sol stopped going to school. He couldn't handle it any longer.

Every time he sat in his classes he would draw you, instead of paying attention to what the teacher was saying.

Every time he sat in art class he was met with the sight of your unoccupied seat.

Every time lunch break rolled around he would go to the library where the two of you met and sit down in the seat he sat in on that day.

After school he would go to your apartment complex and break into your apartment to lay down on your bed, hugging your sheets and pillows, pretending they were you.

Hyugo never told Sol where he had buried you, too anxious about what Sol might do were he to know where you've been buried.

Not even a week passed before Sol decided what he had to do next.

On monday, almost a whole week after your death, Sol went back to school. The place where he first saw you, where he fell for you and in whose proximity you had died. Though, instead of attending class, he walked up the stairs to the school roof. The cool november breeze brushed over his face, twirling his hair and swaying single strands from side to side.

He climbed over the fence, briefly sitting down on it.

There was no further purpose in living, that, he was sure of. He lost his only purpose and what meaning does life have if it has to be spent without you, his darling?

All he could do was atone for his sins.

His mind is occupied with memories of you as he leapt forwards, clutching his fist to his chest where his heart resided.

“See you soon, pumpkin.”

Everything went dark as his body met the ground. There was no pain, there was no afterthought. All that's there is nothingness.

Of course, to the people now surrounding his body there was a gruesome scene, perhaps they would prefer nothingness as well. But if there was nothingness, there would be no note either, tucked away in his fist.

“In the forest”, the note read.

Sol promised to atone for his sins and he would never lie to you, remember?

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER THREE ━━ Falling out of Focus

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 4.5K

☆ ━ warnings: use of homophobic slur, underage drinking, smoking i think, tiny fist fight lol, more angst

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: so sorry i did not proof read this and it’s so dialogue heavy but here it is anyways and drama period

IF NOTHING can comfort Paige Bueckers, it’s usually a basketball court that she needs. It’s the place where she’s found solace nearly her whole life, at this point. The steady rhythm of the dribbling, the weight of the ball in her hands, the way her body moves practically on instinct with it now—all of it is usually enough to drown out the noise of the world. Apparently, not today. She feels like she’s playing in someone else’s body, like everything with her game is off. None of her shots fall, she turns the ball more than she assists, and, when, she shoots once more and the ball hits the rim, bouncing off again, she feels like she’s going to lose it.

Coach Cosgriff seems to feel the same way. “Paige! Come on!” his voice cuts, sharp and direct. Paige blinks, shaking her head a little to clear it, before getting back into the drill.

“Sorry, Coach,” she mumbles, forcing her feet to move. But it’s almost like neither her heart or head are in. The ball feels heavy, unwieldy, like it isn’t made for her hands anymore. She passes it to Taylor, who shoots her a worried look before continuing the play.

Paige can feel the eyes of her teammates on her, each glance a tiny needle pricking her skin. Normally, she’d thrive under the attention, but today, it’s suffocating. She feels like she’s spiraling, and she has no idea how to stop it. It isn’t just about basketball; it’s about fucking everything.

“Let’s run it again!” Coach calls, and Paige tries to push all thoughts that aren’t basketball out of her mind. But the harder she tries, the more insistent her brain becomes.

They run through the drill again, and—again—Paige finds herself a step behind. She’s supposed to cut to the basket, but her feet move too slowly, like they’re stuck in mud. Amaya passes her the ball, but Paige isn’t ready, and it slips through her fingers, skidding across the floor.

“Damnit,” Paige curses under her breath, running after it. She can feel her teammates’ frustration, their confusion, and she hates herself for being the cause of it.

“Paige, you good?” Maya asks as they pause for a water break. She’s careful not to sound accusatory, but Paige can hear the concern in her voice. “You’re not yourself today.”

“I’m fine,” Paige snaps, harsher than she intended. Maya blinks, taken aback, and Paige immediately feels guilty. “I’m just… off. It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” KK chimes in, wiping sweat from her forehead. “You can talk to us, you know.”

Paige forces a smile, but it feels all wrong on her face. “I’m good. Just needa get my head straight.”

The words feel empty even as she says them. How can she explain to her teammates without sounding pathetic and stupid that she’s acting this way over a girl? Obviously, it’s not just any girl—it’s Dani. But still. A girl is getting in the way of Paige and basketball and it’s frustrating her so fucking much. She hates it. She hates all of it. She hates that every time she closes her eyes, all she sees is Dani slipping further away from her, replaced by Beau Hudson’s smug, indifferent face?

“Alright, everyone, bring it in,” Coach Cosgriff calls, ending the break. “Let’s focus up and finish strong.”

Paige nods, but her focus is long gone. The rest of practice is a blur of missed shots, half-hearted passes, and growing frustration. When it finally ends, Paige doesn’t stick around to talk to anyone. She grabs her bag, mumbling something about having to study, and heads straight for the locker room.

In the quiet of the locker room, Paige finally allows herself to collapse on the bench. She buries her face in her hands, feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes. She refuses to let them fall. Crying won’t change anything; it won’t bring Dani back to her, and it sure as hell won’t fix the gaping hole that seems to be growing in her chest.

Paige decides she needs a distraction. Something, anything, to take her mind off Dani, off the way everything’s falling apart.

—SO, a few days later, when Jalen texts Paige about a party, she doesn’t hesitate. She needs noise, people, a chance to drown out the thoughts that have cut off all her access to oxygen.

Paige can feel the bass of the music vibrating through the floorboards the moment she enters the house. The air is thick with the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the faint tang of weed lingering in the background. The place is packed—people spilling out into the backyard, others dancing in the living room, and even more just milling about with red solo cups in hand. It’s exactly what Paige needs—or, at least that’s what she tells herself.

Jalen and Thaliah walk in beside her, ready for a much-needed night out. Jalen has a grin plastered across his face, greeting people as they walk in, while Thaliah is more laid-back, scanning the crowd for familiar faces as she takes a hit from the pen in her hand. Paige, on the other hand, feels almost like she’s moving through fog—like the world is a few seconds behind her. But that’s the point of tonight, anyways. To blur the edges. To numb the ache that’s been gnawing at her ever since Dani pushed her away.

“Yo, you good, P?” Jalen’s voice cuts through her thoughts, his hand landing on her shoulder as they push their way toward the kitchen. He gives her a once-over, expression tinged with concern. “You don’t look like you’re feelin’ this.”

Paige forces a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “‘M fine,” she lies, grabbing a solo cup from the counter. “Just need a drink.”

Thaliah, pen still in hand, raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything, though there’s a look exchanged between her and Jalen. Paige ignores it. She isn’t in the mood for questions, for concern. She just wants to forget. Wants to drown out the constant loop of thoughts running through her head—Dani with Beau, Dani avoiding her, Dani blocking her out. It all swirls in her chest, a storm she hasn’t been able to control for weeks now.

With that thought, Paige downs her first drink in one long gulp, barely wincing at the sharp taste of Vodka and God-knows-what mixed into it. The burn isn’t enough. She needs more.

Within the next hour, Paige makes her way through three more cups of whatever mix of alcohol they’re serving, the edge of her thoughts blurring with each one, head starting to swim pleasantly, the fog that she’s been chasing slowly starting to catch up to her. Jalen and Thaliah drink too, but not with the same reckless abandon. Even they have their limits, knowing when to pace themselves.

But Paige? She doesn’t quite care about limits tonight.

“Bro, slow down,” Thaliah says, eyeing Paige warily as she reaches for yet another cup. “We’re supposed to be having fun, not getting wasted in the first hour.”

Paige rolls her eyes, ignoring the warning. “I am having fun,” she shoots back, though even to her own ears, her voice sounds a little too sharp, a little too defensive. She takes another long sip from the cup, the world around her beginning to tilt slightly. It’s like floating—like nothing can touch her, and that’s exactly what she wants. No feelings. No thoughts. Just nothing.

Jalen watches her, his buzzed and carefree smile faltering as he nudges Thaliah. “Hey, maybe we should—”

“I’m fine!” Paige cuts in, louder than she means to. Her hand tightens around the cup as she glances at them both, the alcohol making her words slur slightly. “I’m fine, okay? I don’t need a babysitter. God.”

She turns away from them, her eyes scanning the room for something—anything—else to keep her occupied. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to think. She just wants to not feel for a while.

She spots a group of people in the corner of the room, most of them looking just as drunk as she feels. Without another word to her best friends, Paige drifts toward the group, her steps a little uneven as the alcohol works its way through her system.

Jalen watches her go, his eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he turns back to his conversation. “She’ll be fine,” he mumbles, though there’s a slight hesitation in his voice. He glances at Thaliah, who shrugs, clearly tipsy herself but sharing the same concern. Nevertheless, neither of them are quite in the best shape to intervene. Besides, they both know Paige well enough to understand that trying to stop her won’t do any good.

Paige finds herself wedged between two guys she barely knows, both of them laughing loudly about something she isn’t even listening to. It doesn’t matter. She’s laughing too, caught up in the haze of drunkenness, the weight of everything she’s been carrying slipping off her shoulders for just a moment.

“Yo, you good?” one of the guys asks, his words slurred and slow as he nudges her with his elbow. “You look like you’re having a real good time.”

Paige grins, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through her chest. “Yeah, I’m good. Real good.”

He sends her a matching grin in return before handing her another drink—something dark and strong—and, without thinking twice, she takes a long sip, the liquid burning as it goes down. She doesn’t care. All she wants is to keep the buzz going, to keep drowning out the thoughts that keep creeping back whenever she slows down.

Dani. Always fucking Dani.

Paige shakes her head, like she can physically push the thought away. She doesn’t want to think about her. Not about the way she’s pulled away, not about the way she’s acting like Paige doesn’t even exist, not about the way she’s with Beau now. Paige doesn’t want to think about any of it.

“Paige, what are you doing?” Thaliah’s voice breaks through the noise, and Paige blinks, realizing she’s wandered away from the group she was with, ending up near the back patio. Thaliah stands in the doorway, her arms crossed, a slightly exasperated but still concerned look on her face.

“Getting another drink,” Paige slurs, waving her empty cup like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Thaliah steps closer, her eyes narrowing. “Maybe you should chill for a minute. You’ve had, like, five already.”

Paige rolls her eyes again, turning away from her friend. “I’m fine, Thal. Seriously.”

Thaliah hesitates, glancing back over her shoulder toward Jalen, who’s still talking to a couple of people near the couch. She isn’t entirely sober herself, and her judgment is definitely a little clouded, but even she can see Paige practically spiraling.

“Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Thaliah affirms, her voice softer now.

“I won’t,” Paige mumbles, though she isn’t sure she means it.

Thaliah stares at her for a moment longer before sighing and heading back inside. Paige doesn’t look back. She wanders farther into the backyard, her footsteps a little less steady now. She finds a group of people near the fire pit, most of them drunk and talking over each other. She sits down on the edge of the bench, barely listening to their conversation as she takes another drink from the communal cooler.

Zoning out, she stares at the flames in the fire pit, the flickering light casting shadows on her face. It crackles, and she watches, the embers highlighting the dark air around her. Everything is a bit softer at the edges now, almost dreamlike, until something—or, rather someone—catches her eye.

A brunette girl sits down next to Paige, her face half-illuminated by the fire before them. She has softer features and warm eyes, as well as brown hair that falls around her shoulders in waves, light highlights coating it. Her cheeks are red with the unmistakable flush of alcohol. She glances at Paige, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. There’s something familiar about the girl, a feeling that tugs at Paige’s drunken mind. It takes her a second to place, but when she realizes why, her heart stumbles a bit: this girl reminds Paige of Dani.

The blonde blinks, her gaze instinctively drawn to the girl’s lips, her head swimming a little more than before.

“Hey,” the brunette slurs a little, her voice laced with the same inebriated giddiness that Paige feels. “I’m Delaney.”

“Delaney?” Paige echoes, feeling like she misheard for a second. She blinks again, her heart doing an unsteady flip at how similar the names Delaney and Dani sound to her. It throws her off for a moment, but not in the way she expects. Maybe it’s because she’s wasted, maybe it’s the loneliness she’s been burying, or maybe it’s just how much she misses her best friend. But somehow, Delaney seems all the more appealing to Paige because of it.

“Yeah,” Delaney giggles, leaning closer, her shoulder brushing against the blonde’s. “And you’re Paige Bueckers.”

Paige feels a smirk creep onto her lips. “You know who I am?” she asks, voice dipping lower, ego inflating slightly. She leans in a little, enough so the sides of their legs touch.

The blonde watches as Delaney’s gaze trails across her face and over her lips. “Everyone knows who you are,” the brunette murmurs. She pauses for a moment, her drunk smile widening slightly. “You’re hot.”

The heat rises in Paige’s chest at that, and she grins back, asking, “Oh, am I?”

Delaney rolls her eyes a little and Paige laughs. The air feels smaller now, like it’s just the two of them, cocooned in the haze of alcohol and tension. Delaney’s eyes sparkle as she stares at Paige, and without much more thought, they fall into a flirty back-and-forth, words blending into giggles and gentle touches that feel a little too familiar.

The brunette rests her hand on Paige’s knee, her fingers slowly trailing upward, and Paige doesn’t stop her. It’s easy. Too easy. Paige leans forward, her breath catching in her throat as their faces hover inches apart.

“You really are pretty,” Paige whispers, her eyes drifting to Delaney’s lips.

And before she knew it, the space between them disappears their lips crash together, the kiss hot and sloppy and fueled by too much alcohol. Paige kisses Delaney harder, trying to drown out the ache that’s been gnawing at her all summer—the same ache that Dani left behind when she cut Paige out of her life.

For a moment, it’s enough. Paige loses herself in the kiss, her hands sliding to Delaney’s waist, pulling her closer. Delaney’s hand is on Paige’s thigh again, this time higher, but the basketball player doesn’t stop her. The brunette tastes like cheap beer and something sweet, and Paige kisses her like it’s an escape.

But then, the sensation of being watched creeps up on her, sending a shiver down her spine. Paige pulls back a little, her breathing uneven and her lips swollen as her eyes darted around. She scans the yard and the back-end of the house, the shadows of people milling about. And then her gaze locks onto someone standing just by the back door.

Her stomach drops.

Dani.

Paige’s breath hitches as she stares at her. Dani’s watching her, her eyes dark and unreadable, arms crossed over her chest. Paige freezes, her heart pounding in her ears as she takes in the sight of her former best friend, looking so effortlessly gorgeous. She’s wearing jeans that fit her perfectly and a tank top that leaves little to the imagination and as soon as Paige’s eyes set on her, a familiar fire alights in her chest.

As soon as Dani realizes Paige has seen her, she looks away, turning her head and beginning to walk away from the back door as if she wasn’t watching at all. But Paige saw it. The tension in Dani’s jaw, the flicker of something in her eyes.

And suddenly, it’s like Paige is struck by lightning, jolted back into reality. What the hell is she doing?

“Shit,” Paige mutters, pushing herself away from Delaney, her heart racing. Delaney blinks in confusion, still dazed and flushed from the kiss.

“Wait—where are you going?” Delaney asks, her hand reaching for Paige’s arm.

“I—uh—I’ve gotta go,” Paige stammers, barely sparing her another glance before she’s up on her feet, leaving Delaney sitting there on the couch, confused and drunk. Paige barely feels a pang of guilt as she hurries toward Dani, the alcohol still swirling in her system, making her steps unsteady.

Paige stumbles inside the house, weaving her way through the crowd until she catches up to the Callan girl. She reaches out, grabbing Dani’s arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Dani, wait—” Paige’s words come out more frantic than she intends, her grip on Dani’s arm loosening when Dani turns to face her. Paige’s heart hammers in her chest as she struggles to form coherent thoughts. “I—I don’t know what’s going on, but can we just—”

Dani jerks her arm out of Paige’s grip, her face stony. “What do you want, Paige?”

“I don’t know!” Paige’s voice cracks, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t know, okay? I saw you staring at me, and then you—why were you even watching me with her?”

Dani’s expression remains cold, but Paige sees the way her fingers twitch at her sides. “I wasn’t watching.”

“That’s bullshit, Dani!” Paige’s voice raises an octave, her fists clenching as she fights to keep herself at bay. “You were staring at me. And her. Why?”

“No, I wasn’t!” Dani denies again, her voice sharp and biting. “It’s none of my business what—or who—you do at a party.”

Paige’s chest tightens at the bitterness in Dani’s words. She feels the sting of them like a slap to the face. “If you don’t care, then why are you acting like this? Why are you even here?”

“I’m here with Beau,” Dani says, her voice firm. “And I don’t care what you do. So, why don’t you go on back to making out with random girls, yeah?”

Paige’s breath catches in her throat, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. “God, you’re so full of shit,” she mutters, shaking her head. “You act like you don’t care, but you do. I know you do. Why can’t you just admit it, for fucks’ sake?”

They stare at each for a long moment, face-to-face in silence, anger and something else surrounding the air between them. But before either of them can say anything more, Beau appeared out of nowhere, stepping between them.

“Is there a problem here?” Beau asked, his eyes narrowing at Paige, his tone casual but the tension in his stance clear. He steps in front of Dani like a shield, glaring at Paige.

The blonde rolls her eyes at him, her frustration doubling. “No,” she snaps, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just having a conversation.”

Beau scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest. “Doesn’t look like much of a conversation to me. Looks like you’re harassing my girlfriend, Bueckers.”

Paige’s stomach churns at the word, the jealousy like a punch to the gut. It’s not unfamiliar at this point, but it still gives Paige the same effect. “Can’t you just fuck off?” she retorts with venom. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m her boyfriend, so, yeah, I think it does,” Beau argues, stepping closer to Paige, trying to intimidate her. But Paige isn’t scared of him, even in her drunken state. He may be more muscular—the football kind of body type—but she’s taller, a couple of inches on him, and she meets his challenge with a steady glare.

“I don’t give a shit what you think,” Paige bites out, stepping closer herself, their faces inches apart now. “But Dani and I? We have history. And you—” she jabs her finger into his chest, “are just a replacement.”

Beau’s face twists in anger, his hands balling into fists. “Watch your mouth, Bueckers.”

“Or what—” the blonde begins, but before she can get her words out completely, two figures are by her side, hands pulling her away slightly.

“Paige,” Thaliah mutters, trying to tug at her arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Jalen stands there too, shaking his head. “Yep, come on,” he says. And then he lets his gaze shift between Beau and Dani, glaring at the pair. “Neither of them are worth it.”

Paige’s jaw clenches, her eyes still locked on Dani’s, searching for anything that would tell her this isn’t over. But Dani won’t even look at her. She keeps her eyes trained on the floor, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest, her whole body tense.

And so, Paige id about to turn around, to let Thaliah and Jalen pull her away, when she hears Beau’s voice again.

“It’s good you and her aren’t friends anymore,” Beau says loudly, looking directly at Dani. His next words are sharp and venomous. “Don’t want a dyke like her corrupting you.”

The world seems to freeze.

Paige’s heart stops. The word dyke echoes in her ears, and the blood drains from her face. She can feel the heat rising in her chest, the anger boiling over like a volcano about to erupt.

Even Dani’s head snaps up, her eyes wide with shock. But she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t defend Paige.

Without thinking, without even hesitating for a second, Paige turns and lunges at Beau, her fists flying before anyone can react.

Her first punch lands squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. She feels pain erupt across her knuckles, and she shakes her hand for a moment. The shock on his face is almost satisfying—almost. But Paige doesn’t stop there. She she shoves him backwards now, hands at his chest, and he stumbles slightly.

“You fucking—” Beau starts, but he doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Thaliah and Jalen are on her in an instant, pulling Paige back with more force now. Thaliah’s voice is almost panicked, trying to calm her down as Jalen stands between her and Beau, his hands outstretched like a human barrier. He glares at the Hudson boy, saying firmly, “Back the fuck up.”

“Paige, come on, it’s not worth it!” Thaliah’s practically shouting now, her grip on Paige’s arm tight.

“Let go of me!” Paige yells, her voice cracking with fury. She struggles against their hold, her eyes locked on Beau, who stands there, looking more shocked than anything. But there’s no fear in his eyes—only smugness, actually.

Beau wipes his mouth, glancing at the blood on his hand where her punch landed. He sneers. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Can’t handle the truth, can you?”

Paige’s vision blurs with anger, and she tries to lunge at him again, but Thaliah and Jalen hold her back.

Dani, who’s been frozen this whole time, finally speaks up. “Beau, just stop.”

Beau’s glances down at Dani, almost grinning. He clearly is enjoying the chaos he’s caused. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking, babe.”

Paige is done. She’s fucking done.

“Fuck you,” she spits at Beau, staring at him from behind Jalen. He just smirks back. And then she turns her attention to Dani, adding, “And, fuck you, too. You’re such a fucking coward, Dani.”

Paige rips her arm from Thaliah’s grasp, turning from the group and walking straight out of the house, wanting nothing more than to just go home.

THE DAYS that follow are a blur of basketball practices, classes, and restless nights. Paige tries to focus, tries to lose herself in the familiar routine, but nothing feels right. Every time she steps onto the court, her movements feel sluggish, disconnected. She’s there, but she isn’t really present. Her mind is elsewhere, stuck in a loop of memories and worries that she can’t escape.

Coach Cosgriff notices, of course. It would be impossible not to. Paige has always been the one to set the pace, to push herself and her teammates to be better. But now, she’s lagging behind, missing cues, and snapping at anyone who tries to point it out.

“Paige, my office. Now,” Coach says one afternoon after a particularly grueling practice.

Paige knows what’s coming, but she follows him without protest, dragging her feet as she walks. The other girls exchange glances but don’t say anything. They know better than to try to talk to her when she’s in one of these moods.

Coach’s office is small, cramped with old trophies and posters of past teams. He sits behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he gestures for Paige to sit down before him.

“What’s going on with you, Paige?” he asks, leaning forward, his tone soft but firm. “This isn’t like you. You’ve been off for weeks now. Is it school? Family? Whatever it is, you need to get it sorted, because it’s affecting your game.”

Paige looks down at her hands, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s… complicated,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Coach sighs, running a hand over his face. “Life is complicated, Paige. But you need to find a way to deal with it. You’re the leader of this team, and if you’re not focused, the others won’t be either.“

“I know,” Paige replies, her throat tight. “I’m sorry, Coach. I’m just… going through something right now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Coach offers, surprising Paige. He isn’t usually the type to get involved in his players’ personal lives, but Paige guesses he’s worried about how much this is affecting her performance.

Paige shakes her head, though. She couldn’t talk about it, not without breaking down, and she couldn’t afford to do that. Besides, it would be more embarrassing than anything to have to explain how much losing someone—that’s technically still there—has affected her. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need some time.”

Coach watches her for a moment, then nods slowly. “Alright. But you need to get your head back in the game, Paige. I can’t have you on the court if you’re not all there. Understand?”

“Yes, Coach,” Paige responds quickly, feeling the weight of his words settle on her shoulders.

“Take tonight off,” Coach says, surprising her again. “Clear your head, do whatever you need to do. But when you come back tomorrow, I need the Paige Bueckers I know back on that court. The season starts in less than a month, Paige.”

Paige nods, standing up to leave. “I’ll do my best, Coach.”

As she’s about to walk out the door, Coach Cosgriff stops her, saying, “Wait.” She turns, eyes curious as she meets his gaze, wondering what else he has to say. He offers a small smile, telling her, “I went through a tough time when I was your age, too. It’s difficult to be a teenager. But the best advice I was ever given is that whatever problem you’ve got going on—you gotta either drop it, forget it, and move on, or you fix it. I know it’s easier said than done, but it’s true.”

Paige lets the words sink in.

Drop it, forget it, move on.

Or fix it.

Fuck, she doesn’t know.

[moncharrow]

You Failed to Dom Ellie, Now....

a/n: THE AI VOICE WAS SLUTTYYYYYYY GIRL. also small blurb. sometimes i am horny sometimes i am soft. shoot me a req for either mood :3

content/warnings: 900 words, smut, top! reader (failed), top! ellie (success), use of a strap (ellie wears, reader receives), refers to it as ellie's cock lol, afab gn reader, one (1) spank, mention of cellulite if that bugs u idk bae its a beautiful natural thing

After months of having Ellie fuck you into the mattress, you try your hand at dominating her. Nervously, you clamber atop her, the anxiety quickly fading as you fall into a familiar rhythm of bodies grinding and hot breath across soft skin. The foreplay is confident and Ellie fleetingly believes that this might be a new dynamic you can explore together, but she changes her mind the second she notices the way you struggle to please yourself.

Your cocky grin disappears, replaced by a bit lip and eyes endearingly pinched shut in concentration as you slowly slide yourself up and down the silicone strap. You let out a gasp, trying to angle yourself in a way that properly fucks into you, but for the love of god, it's nothing compared to what Ellie can do to you.

Your girlfriend slips back into her usual role, grasping at your hips and purring patronizingly below you. Her fingers caress your skin, making you shiver and twitch. "Poor thing. Let me take care of you." You smack her hands away, letting out a noise that you wish sounded tougher than the pathetic whine released.

"No! No, I got it. Lemme do this..." You grumble, your hand coming onto her bare abdomen to stabilize yourself, hoping that maybe you can find the leverage to get this going. Unfortunately for you, you forget how unbelievably ripped she is. Lean, taut muscle clenches under your spread fingers when your light touch caresses her. The realization is enough to make you weak and your elbows give out. You pathetically collapse on her chest, panting, whining because you just know you'll get made fun of for this until you die.

Ellie chuckles condescendingly and pets your hair. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "So how was that for you?" She jokes like she does every time you finish having sex, knowing it annoys you to no end.

"You're fucking mean," you grumble, hitting her shoulder.

Without warning, she harshly digs into your waist, the pads of her fingers leaving red ovals on your back that will become tender, plum bruises by sunrise. Ellie brings your body down onto her cock at the same time her hips slam into you, immediately finding your most sensitive spots. "If I was mean, I wouldn't do this for you, would I?" Her voice is sultry and deep, words rolling off her tongue like velvet, making you clench. Ellie plows through the resistance and chuckles at your reflexive reaction.

You try to backtalk her and defend yourself, fumbling over your words as the syllables and diphthongs melt together to become a garbled mess of pleasure. Ellie cackles, ramming faster into you as you admit defeat and bury your head into her shoulder.

"Nah...if- fuck- if I were mean, I would let you try to take care of yourself." She breathes heavily when the attachable base rubs deliciously against her puffy clit- you weren't the only one suffering from the lack of stimulation. She grunts, grinding into you and rolling her hips. She knows your body better than you do, like she has a map of your pleasure points ingrained in her mind. Her muscle memory forces out noises you didn't know were physically possible. "You don't know how fucking pathetic it was watching you. Nothing feels as good as me, huh?"

You can barely hear Ellie's dirty talk, the sudden intense pleasure making your ears ring and eyes cross, but you're brought back down to earth when she slaps your ass. She admires the reverb and cellulite on it as you whine. Perfect, she thinks.

"I think I asked you a question. You're not gonna try that again, are you?" She leans into you, face right against yours, and nips at your jawline. Hot breath fans against your ear and you shiver as she uses the low tone that drives you crazy. "Are ya, pretty?"

She slows down to hear your answer, the echoing slapping of skin gradually idling. "No," you sniffle, "I won't." Your body is completely limp against her, hands gripping Ellie's perky tits for dear life as you stare down at the way she bucks up into you. The dusky purple strap disappears into your pussy, pulling out with more milky strings every time. A bit of your cum is forming a ring around the base, and Ellie's pre soaks through the towel under her. You're both so incredibly turned on by each other, and releasing the tension is always animalistic and messy.

"And why won't you?"

You know that whatever answer you give won't satisfy Ellie, so you settle for lolling your head into the crook of her neck, kissing her clavicle.

"Answer me. You're so spacey today, focus." Another sharp slap on your ass wakes you up immediately.

"'cause you're better at it than me." Ellie grins, her tongue swiping out of her mouth to lick her lips. You see that she changed out her tongue piercing, and you make a mental note to try that out later.

It's when her eyes darken, flipping you over and pinning your hips down that you know what a bad mistake you've made in trying to dominate Ellie. It simply can't be done.

But at the end of the night, you wonder if you actually suck at topping, or if you just did it to have her pressing her tits into your back as she fucks you <3

and as a treat...

[slut4thebroken]

Favorite Toy

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x dom!reader

Summary | Jon just can’t control himself when it comes to you, but you always make sure he cleans up after himself when you’re finished.

Warnings | 18+, smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, objectification, cream pie, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, come eating, he’s a whore but he’s our whore, dom!reader is so mean and we love it, fluff, aftercare, sub space, a lil bit of soft dom!reader at the end

Words | 2.8 k

Notes | I don’t remember what I saw that inspired me to write this but… god bless whatever that was 🙏🏻 I might edit this again later lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Oh god- please.” He moaned into the kiss, grabbing your hips tightly. You continued grinding on him and pulling his hair, not responding to his plea yet. “Please… fuck.” 

Mostly for your own sake rather than his, you relented. You removed his clothes and your own quickly, then placed your hands on his chest as you kneeled over his hips. He let out a choked moan when you sunk down on his cock and you bit your lip to keep your sounds to a minimum. You stared down at him, admiring his flushed cheeks and red lips that were wet from the kiss. 

“That feel good?” 

“Yes— oh god, yes. Please,” He said through a breath, whimpering and trying to grind his hips up into you. 

You lifted your hips slowly, then lowered them just as slow. After only two more thrusts, his eyes squeezed shut and he threw his head back with a low moan, making you freeze. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you and the heat of his come against your walls. 

“Hnngh- no.. no, please.” He whimpered, trying to get the stimulation back. 

“Did you just fucking come?” You asked, almost in disbelief, once his body sagged into the bed and he started panting as he calmed down. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I— Normally I can last longer.” He defended, cheeks burning even redder now. “I- I can eat you out? To make you come. Please?” You let out a loud laugh, making his brows furrow. 

“Oh, angel… you don’t think we’re done do you?”  

“W-” Before he could even get the word out, you were continuing, fucking yourself on his length, making him choke out moans and whimpers. “Fuck— fuck, wait… Please,”

“Save it. If you didn’t want to be overstimulated, you shouldn’t have come only a few seconds after getting this pathetic fucking dick in my cunt.” You spat, making him groan. “I don’t care if it’s too much. I’m going to fuck myself with my dildo until I come and you’re going to thank me for using you instead of my other toys.” 

“Fuck,” He gasped out, fingers gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, but not controlling your movements. “Oh god— thank you.” He whimpered, face scrunched up in painful pleasure. 

“I’m not convinced. Should I go get another toy?” 

“No! No- I’m sorry. Thank you— Thank you for using me.” He cried, staring up at you with wide, pleading eyes. 

“That’s more like it.” You cupped his cheek, running your thumb over his swollen lips, then suddenly jerked your hand back and smacked him across the face. His head turned from the impact as a loud moan escaped his lips. 

“I can’t believe you fuck like a goddamn virgin.” You spat, wrapping your hand around his neck and squeezing. “Is my pussy too much for you, baby? Can you not take it?” You cooed mockingly, making him whine. 

“N-no I… I can take it. Please, I can take it, I promise.” He whimpered, eyes welling with tears of desperation and overstimulation. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see then, won’t we?” Your hips started more of a rocking motion as you leaned back up, releasing his neck to steady yourself with a hand on the headboard. “Well don’t just lay there like a fucking pillow princess. Rub my clit, play with my nipples, do something.” 

“Sorry— I’m sorry.” He decided to do both, one hand reaching down to rub firm circles over your clit and the other rolling your nipple between his fingers. When that wasn’t enough he snaked his hand around to your back and pulled you down, his head meeting halfway so he could suck your nipple into his mouth. 

“Good boy.” He whimpered against you, then kissed his way to the other one to give it the same treatment. “This is why you’re my favorite toy, baby. You do exactly what your purpose is— make me feel good. Sure you can get a little eager and come embarrassingly fast but the pros definitely outweigh the cons.” He whined at the subtle degradation, but you could feel his cock twitch against your walls. 

“Don’t tell me you’re about to come again?” You scoffed in mock disbelief, making him lean up even more so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck and trail kisses across it. “Awe, honey… Are you getting a little shy?” You cooed, running your fingers through his hair. “Don’t be. I think it’s cute— reminds me of how desperate I can make you.” You chuckled, making him whine. 

“Go ahead then. Make another fucking mess— but just know, you will be cleaning it up later.” He let out a strangled whimper as his whole body stiffened, then started twitching and spasming. “There you go, just get it all out, darling.” You cradled his head and slowed your hips to a stop when his orgasm finally faded. “You make the cutest little whimpers when you come.” His cock twitched inside you again, making him release a pained whine. 

“But let’s see now… That was two orgasms for you, and how many for me again? Oh that’s right. Zero. All because you’re a greedy little slut who can't wait longer than a few minutes before coming.” You spat, roughly pulling on his hair to move him away from your body so you could see him. “Fucking pathetic. First I have to do all the work, then you can’t even make me come.” 

“No- no… ‘m sorry.” He mumbled. Of course he’s already worn out before you’ve even started. 

“God— look at you.” You took his cheeks in one hand and turned his face side to side, examining him. “So fucked out already. You getting tired, baby?” 

“No… ‘m awake.” 

“If you’re not, you will be soon.” You started riding him again, chasing your own orgasm now. You threw your head back with a low groan, listening to his pained moans and whimpers. “I can’t believe a cock this good is attached to a pathetic little boy who can’t control himself. It’s a shame really.” He let out a choked sob and despite the fact that he was all but begging you to stop, he still continued rubbing your clit, bringing you closer to the edge. 

“But it’s okay. I know how to handle bitches like you; just ignore them. Let them whine and beg and tire themselves out until you have a pliant, fucked out toy. I can tell you’re almost there, baby. Just let go.” He whined and squirmed, tears of humiliation and overstimulation brimming in his eyes, making the pale blue all the more beautiful. “I know all you want is to be my good boy, so just let go.” You whispered, gaze trailing all over his face, from his flushed cheeks to his red, swollen lips. “You can do it, angel. I’m right here— I got you. Just let go for me.” He let out one last pathetic whimper as a tear rolled down his temple into his hair. His bottom lip was trembling now and you leaned down to give him a soft kiss. 

“There you go. I’m so proud of you, honey. Just let me make us both feel good, yeah?” He bit his lip and nodded slowly, making the corners of your lips turn up. 

“Think you can come one more time?” He whimpered and averted his gaze, and for a second you almost thought he was about to say no or the safe word. 

“Yes.” He whispered instead, making your heart flutter. 

“Good boy. You’re so good for me.” You cupped his face, running your thumb over his cheek bone. “I know you can’t help it, baby. It makes me feel so good though, knowing how much you like it.” 

“‘m sorry.” He whimpered. 

“I know, angel. It’s okay. Make me come and I’ll forgive you, okay?” He nodded and you gave him a warm smile in return. Your breath caught in your throat and your hips stuttered when he rubbed your clit faster and harder. “That’s it.” You said through a breath. “Just like that.” 

You could feel yourself nearing the edge, so you forced yourself to continue even though your legs were starting to burn. When his pained moans turned into desperate whimpers, you knew he was close too. Trailing a hand down his chest, you brushed your fingers over his nipple, then pinched lightly, making his back arch into your touch as he let out a choked moan. 

“Oh god—“ He whined, more tears falling. “Fuck, I- I’m close…” He whispered. 

“Yeah? Keep it up, angel— doing so good for me, I’m almost there.” 

“God- it hurts.” He whimpered, body conflicted on whether it wanted more or less of the stimulation. You released his nipple and slowed into a rocking motion, making him whine. 

“What’s your color?” You asked softly, just wanting to be sure. His brows furrowed as his hips squirmed under yours. 

“Green…” He muttered, cheeks flushing. You brushed his hair out of his face a little more and he closed his eyes at the gentle touch. 

“Tell me the second it changes, okay?” 

“I will.” You could tell he was getting needy again after being so close to another orgasm. You suddenly picked up the pace and started bouncing up and down, making him throw his head back with a strangled moan. When you rested your hands on his chest for extra support, his free hand shot up to hold your arm, so you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers before pinning it to the bed. 

“Please.. Want you to come.” He whined, rubbing your clit impossibly faster. 

“I will, baby. Almost there.” You said through a breath. He stared up at you with half lidded, glossy eyes, his lips parted in a silent moan as his chest heaved. “You look so perfect like this.” You whispered, making his already flushed cheeks turn even redder. “My pretty boy.” He whined and gripped your hand tighter in response. 

If the feeling of hot come hitting your walls wasn’t enough of an indication, his eyes squeezing shut and the long, strangled whine he let out made it obvious. His fingers on your clit faltered, but quickly picked up again once his orgasm started to fade. 

While part of you wanted to edge yourself and keep torturing him, you couldn’t hold back at the sound of his pained whimpers, so you let yourself fall over the edge. It was hard to keep up the movement of your hips through your orgasm, but he maintained steady pressure on your clit, letting you ride it out. 

“Fuck, good boy.” You groaned, dragging your nails down his chest as your other hand tightened around his. His breath hitched at the sting, but you could feel his cock twitch nonetheless. You panted as you calmed down, needing to bat his hand away from your clit once you got too sensitive. 

“Ready to clean up your mess?” You asked, still breathless. He nodded, staring up at you with wide eyes, wincing when you lifted yourself off his softening cock. You moved quickly, shuffling up his body until your legs were on either side of his head. “Every drop, okay?” He nodded again, then eagerly wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down onto his face. He focused mostly on your hole, licking up your shared arousal and fucking his tongue inside you. When you pulled back, he whined and looked up at you, wondering why you made him stop. You reached down and scooped up some of his come, then sucked it off your finger, making his lips part as his eyes widened. 

“Tastes good. Want some?” You asked, even though he was already tasting it. He nodded dumbly and you scooped up some more then put it in your mouth and grabbed his cheeks to keep his mouth open as you leaned over him. He let out a choked moan when you spit his come into his mouth and you could practically feel how warm his cheeks were getting under your hand. 

“Swallow.” He whined and averted his gaze, but did what you said. “Good boy.” You lightly hit his cheek then got back into position over his face. He picked up where he left off eagerly and you placed a hand in his hair to hold him against you. Your legs were starting to shake and you desperately needed to stretch your knees, but you didn’t want to stop— not yet. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He moaned in agreement, making your hips buck against his face. “Yeah I bet you are. Fucking filthy— lapping up your own come from my pussy like a fucking dog.” He whined and looked up at you with furrowed brows, his eyes becoming glossy with tears. “Isn’t that right, puppy?” The new pet name had him working even more enthusiastically, sucking and licking the come out of you and occasionally giving your clit some attention. 

Originally you weren’t planning on coming again, you were just going to have him clean up his mess and that was it. But you forgot how talented he is with his mouth… 

“You want me to come on your face?” He released a muffled “yes!” against you, not bothering to pull away just to speak. You suddenly lifted yourself off of him and laid down to give your legs a break, making him look at you like a kicked puppy. “Get to it then.” You said, gesturing to your lower half. He quickly got up and settled between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you as he continued. You sighed and reached down to pet his hair, not yet grabbing it, much to his dismay. You moaned lowly and his eyes snapped up to your face. 

“At least you don’t eat pussy like a virgin.” You smirked, watching him avert his gaze. “Don’t be embarrassed, honey, it was a compliment.” It wasn’t really a compliment though, which he seemed to pick up on. 

The sound of him slurping up your shared arousal was loud compared to your stifled moans and you let your eyes fall shut as you focused on your impending orgasm. When he started whimpering and whining though, you opened your eyes again, finding his hips grinding against the bed. 

“Greedy fucking slut. Trying to come again?” He whined and looked up at you with furrowed brows. You could tell he was trying to stop the movement of his hips. “If you like the taste of your own come this much, maybe I shouldn’t let you come inside me anymore. Maybe I’ll just have you come in a cup so you can drink it instead.” He released a muffled whine as a protest. 

“How about this, you make me come in the next 30 seconds, and I’ll let you keep coming inside. Sound fair?” He nodded enthusiastically, making you smirk. “Alright. Clock starts now.” The only reason you gave him this challenge was because you’re already close. You like having him come inside just as much as he does and you’re too hedonistic to deny yourself that pleasure.

He ate you out desperately, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, and you didn’t even bother with counting because you knew you were only seconds away from your orgasm. Tightening your grip on his hair, you pushed him into your cunt, making him whimper. Finally you fell over the edge, letting out a low moan and grinding on his face as you held him close enough to suffocate him. But he didn’t even attempt to protest, not when you were literally coming on his face. Once your orgasm finally started to fade, you pulled him away, making him whine. 

“C’mere, pretty boy.” You said softly. He crawled up the bed and laid by your side even though most of his body was on yours anyway. You grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his face before letting him lay on your chest. “Such a good boy. Made me feel so good.” You cooed and he snuggled into your chest even more as he hugged your torso. You ran your fingers through his hair and he let out a satisfied hum. 

“How are you feeling, honey?”  

“Good. Deep.” He mumbled. The first time he said that, you didn’t realize that he meant deep into sub space and he had a hard time getting the words out to explain. But now you know that it’s as close as he can get to giving you a heads up about the way he’s feeling. 

“Tired?” He hummed in agreement. “Me too.” The exhaustion hit you full force once your orgasm finished and you were just laying down.

“I love you.” He mumbled sleepily, making the corners of your lips turn up as your heart fluttered. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head before responding. 

“I love you too, angel.” 

Taglist

@scarecrow-jon-babe @quietnymph11 @obsessiveimpulses

[dadsbongos]

hi i happened to stumble across your page and i read your previous denji fics and loved them! may i request a fem!reader x denji where the reader is a transfer student and denji decided to show her around? it'd be cool if she was an exchange student so her japanese wasn't the best, too.

oh, and in the end or something, it'd be sweet if she called him her friend denji just like melted because he doesn't have great luck with girls.

i had this in my drafts to get posted eventually i cannot fucking believe i forgot about it nonny i am SOSOSOO sorry!!! jeez...

589 words - hinted fem reader but you're not described, if reader's dialogue sounds awkward its intentional

denji comes off as a ‘everybody leaves me’ guy for a sec but as we all know. everybody do be leaving him and its actually not his fault lol ~~~

“You have a nice head.”

“Huh?”

“Head…” you frown under Denji’s quizzing stare, then curling a finger through your hair, “I like it.”

“Oh, hair,” he repeats.

“Hair.”

“Yeah.”

Your frown deepens, “Sorry…”

Denji shrugs, hands in his pockets, “Don’t worry about it. You’re not from here, right?” you nod, almost shyly, “Then, don’t worry about it.”

When you don’t seem visibly relieved or even a little soothed, he continues,

“Really, it isn’t a big deal,” Denji’s been worse off, “I only know one language, you’re learning two.”

“I just worry other people judge me,” you sigh, kicking a rock from under your shoe, “What if they think I’m stupid?”

“They think everyone’s stupid. If anything, being a foreigner will get you admirers,” he shrugs, then nodding towards the door leading back into school from the roof, “Come on. There’s nothing else up here.”

A curious hum leaves you, “Why bring me to the roof first then?” you clasp a hand over your mouth, “Sorry, if that sounds rude.”

“Our class is on the second floor, so if I take my time working down from the roof, we can miss most of the morning classes,” he grins, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

“Is that okay?”

“If they wanted a snappy tour, they shouldn’t have picked me,” he holds the door open for you, “What? You excited to hear boring shit on your first day?”

“Not really…”

“So… let’s just take our time,” he waggles a thin wood slab in front of your face, “Hall pass.”

“Hall pass,” you nod in confirmation, hugging your bag tight to your chest as a comfort device despite trying to appear casual, “Okay! Let’s take our time!”

You really don’t want to seem un-cool in front of this guy… His lax energy and low eyes, unkempt hair and spiky teeth; everything about him screams intimidation, yet he’s been nothing but kind to you.

“There’s nothing you really need on this floor, but I’ll walk you through it anyway,” he folds his arms, “Good to be thorough, huh?”

His tone gives way to utmost sarcasm, it makes you laugh softly.

“Yeah,” you press your lips before finally spitting out, “Can I sit with you later for lunch?”

“Sure.”

“Really?!”

“Why not?” he turns to look at you, “You seem nice. You haven’t tried killing me, and you’re super pretty.”

Again, you have the urge to shout so you do, “Really?!”

He nods, cheeks flaring pink, “You’re so pretty, I’m surprised you haven’t tried killing me yet.”

“Why would I want to kill you?”

Oh, Denji could fall to the floor right now, your voice is so soft and sugary and the crease in your brow is downright pathetic with how concerned it is -- you’re wide-eyed and pouting. You’re so sweet.

“Girls don’t usually like me when I’m alive.”

“That’s terrible…”

“I know.”

“I like you when you’re alive!”

Your earnest exclamation makes his face heat up, palms clammy. He swallows around the sudden uncertainty clogging his throat, “Seriously?”

“Seriously!” you beam, squeezing your bag harder, “You’re a good friend! At least, so far… I’m hoping we can be friends, is that okay?”

Denji sniffles, eyes stinging with waterworks, he clenches his eyes -- praying to avoid tearing up in front of you, and nods curtly, “I’d like that.”

“Yay!” now you’re full blown cuddling your bag against your chest, now from joy instead of nerves, “I’d like that, too!”

Denji thinks you’re the prettiest he’s ever seen when you’re happy like that.

[divergentboa]

⋆˚࿔ cw. sub!eren, afab, dom!reader, black coded, dacryphillia ( ? ), overstimulation, cowgirl, mentions of teasing, dirty talk, pet names ୨ baby, sweetheart, pretty girl ୧, cream pie, slight praising, mdni

“oh, fuckkk.”

a whisper drips from his lips as his jade colored eyes immediately roll toward the back of his head when you finally sink down onto his cock after so much teasing, and his mind is just as scrambled as eggs on a hot sunday morning. all while slowly plunging yourself upon him, you pepper wet kisses along his jawline down to his neck in a soothing manner.

incoherent babbles are the only things that eren could fathom once your hips finally meet his. it feels like absolute heaven. your gooey walls so warm and snug and, oh, he begins to think that he hasn’t even been fucking you right because your pussy is so stupidly tight.

he genuinely tries not to combust right then and there. that familiar knot is already built up and it takes everything in him. but he knows that even if he does you’ll give him a sweet smile and tell him how it’s okay.

it was basically suffocation, the way your slit easily sucked him in. his beating hot tip pressed up against that little spongy spot that he loved so much. eren could feel his his waterline dampen and he’s embarrassed because you haven’t even moved yet.

you’ve barely touched him and he’s a mess.

all slumped up against the headboard. softly tanned skin flustered and glistening with a thin layer of sweat building up, breaths increasing every second. wild baby hairs sticking to his forehead and his lips are slightly parted. once you begin moving, he’s quick to nestle his face into your neck with a whimper.

“s-shit baby, fuckkk me, please.”

you let out a small giggle and you feel his dick twitch inside of you when you do.

“already am, ‘ren.” a kiss is planted on his jaw and eren swears he almost cums. his slender hands rested on your fat brown hips as he pathetically bucks his own up into you, trying to match the way you bounced and rolled your hips on his dick. groans and whimpers fall uncontrollably out of his body and you’re no better. moaning prettily into his ear, and eren has a whole eargasm.

you sounded so pretty, moaning his name and telling him how good he felt. his body shook everytime you touched him and it was simply fascinating.

“y-you’re s’deep, baby.” you groan, throwing your head back.

giving up, erens entire head just drops onto your shoulder and you swear that you felt him drooling. your pussy squelched vulgarly every time you slammed your ass onto his thighs. every inch of him touched your walls and it was beautiful. every vein, and even the small upturn of his tip he had. your pussy clenches on his dick and he moans. it was high pitched so you know that he’s close.

“m’god, babyyyy, you feel so— hngg.” eren shudders.

you whine softly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you felt your high coming as well. your eyes flickered down onto him, leaning down to give him a gingerly kiss.

“c’mon, make a big nasty mess in me, m’sweet boy.” you moan, bouncing on his dick, even going as far as to spelling out your name cause you was really like that.

he must’ve took your words to heart because abruptly, you felt his dick twitch once more before you felt him release a thick, huge load of his nut spill deliciously into your leaking womb. it was sooo much, he couldn’t stop. he felt his balls empty out slowly, like it was never going to end.

“mm. so much, eren. all for me?” you fuck him through his orgasm and his body furiously shakes, still not down from his high as his head slumps on your shoulder once again. it just kept coming, and it was oozing out of your hole but eren was quick to force it back in with a stutter of his hips, desperate.

“pleasepleaee, don’ waste none, sweetheart. fuck, i got s’much f’you. take it all, pleaseeeefuckkkk.” he babbles, breathily.

not proofread lol

[hyuckiefluff]

drunk in you pt.2 | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers word count: 3.1k a/n: i meant to post this sooner but a whole week ended up going by without me realizing lol thank u for liking part 1 thoo content: semi-public sex (they’re in the living room of a shared apartment so), dry humping, usage of pet names like doll and baby, mark also calls reader a slut (this was self-indulgent hehe), oral (fem receiving), creampie, a fair amount of ass grabbing/slapping cuz mark is an ass guy in my head :))!! edit: it’s not even in my head anymore go watch his mommae challenge and tell me im not right

part 1

Life is funny in sick ways, because just a few minutes ago you were thinking about how badly you wanted to ride your best friend’s thighs but now that you were actually in a position to do so you couldn’t move. You were just straddling him, not even sure where to put your arms and shifting minimally scared that any movement against him could reveal how pathetically wet you were right now. I mean he had barely spoken a few words to you and you were putty in his hands, ready to give him anything that he asked for. So, why isn't he asking? Why isn't he doing something? He's the one who-...

Your train of thought came to an abrupt halt when his hands slid under your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass. A surprised yelp escaped your lips, almost sounding like a moan, and he seemed to like your reaction as he pressed his lips together to suppress a grin. Then he experimentally thrusted upwards, his hands keeping a firm grip on your ass, leaving no space between your clothed cores.

He took in your fucked out expression after every thrust as an invitation to keep doing it "M-mark…" you moaned, your nails practically carving into his shoulders.

Your head hung low, your hair acting like a curtain, blocking Mark's view from your flushed face. And he was not having it. He wanted to see you, he wanted to remember every little detail of you like this. So he grabbed a handful of your hair and gave it a gentle pull, making you lift your head. That put your neck in his line of sight, like a blank canvas he was ready to mark with his lips, leaving purples and reds behind.

He immediately latched his mouth on the space between your neck and clavicle, each kiss, bite and suck coaxing delicious moans from your throat, “F-fuck, keep…keep doing that” you managed to breathe out, your hands finding their way to his head. You attempted to grip his hair, but his haircut left you with little to grab onto. But that didn't stop you from trying, and he seemed to like it because as soon as you tugged, he groaned against your neck and sucked harder on a particular spot that sent tremors through your legs.

You were so focused on how good his mouth felt all over your skin that you completely missed the way his hand slid inside your panties. The sudden feeling of his fingers touching your folds making your brain short-circuit. So much so that you almost missed the words he whispered into your ear, “You’re already this wet just from a little teasing,” he tutted. 

His finger emerged from your panties, glistening with your arousal. That was a sight that would have embarrassed you under different circumstances but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that, not when he brought his finger to his lips and licked every drop of your essence off it all while making eye contact. A whimper got caught in your throat as you watched, captivated by the way he tasted you.

"How will it feel when I fuck you for real then, hm?" 

Your thighs instinctively tightened against his after those words left his mouth. A reaction that wasn't lost on him. His flushed face sported an even cockier smirk now, "You'd like that huh?" he quipped, extending the finger he'd just licked toward your mouth. Without hesitation, you took it in, not caring about the mingling of his saliva with yours.

"But here's the thing," he continued, "You've gotta ask for it."

You were having a hard time paying attention to what he was saying. Your brain being more focused on his finger abusing your mouth and the subtle but persistent thrust of his hips against yours. His words seemed like distant echoes, drowned out by the sensations wrapping around you. That is, until a sudden slap against your bare ass jolted you back to reality. His voice was low and commanding, "Ask me to fuck you, doll."

His gaze bore into you, intense and almost predatory, "Please… fuck me, Mark," the plea slipped from your lips easily and before you could fully process your own words, he was lifting you up.  You expected him to take you to his room upstairs, but instead, he started walking right up to the big couch in front. 

Certainly he wasn’t planning to fuck you in the middle of the living room, where any of the boys could just walk in on the scene, right? Your hazy brain couldn't even remember if Jaemin had gone back to his room. The last you knew, he had been somewhere near the kitchen, possibly passed out. But if he were to walk in here and…

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by Mark lowering you onto the couch and immediately discarding your soaked panties. He spread your legs a little bit more and made eye contact with you right before his head was disappearing between your legs. Things were moving so fast but you couldn't bring yourself to think about the consequences of doing this right now when it felt so damn good.

The heat pulling in your lower stomach intensified as he used his nose to nudge against your entrance and with one swift move of his tongue against your core he had you losing your mind.

“Oh.. god-.. Mark… fuck…that feels so-” you tried to voice the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you but your words broke into fragmented moans and gasps.

Your fingers clenched in a tight grip on his short hair, urging him further against your core. You were so desperate and it was embarrassingly obvious. But you felt his chuckles resonate against your core, so he clearly found it amusing. His tongue danced and explored every sweet spot slowly, making you see sounds and hear colors. But, it wasn't enough. The ache inside you demanded more.

Your need for him to fuck you into tomorrow was almost unbearable.

"Mark…" you called out to him, but it seemed he was too focused on eating you out to hear you. His own desperation was also palpable, clear by the way his hips rutted against the couch. His fingers joined his tongue sliding inside you one by one. The simultaneous ministrations threatened to push you over the edge. If he kept up this pace, you would definitely cum all over his face.

His gaze locked onto yours immediately as he pulled away from your core. The sight of his swollen lips glistening with your arousal, and his hair sticking to his forehead leaving you with an image that would replay in your head for many nights to come.

"Are you close, doll?" his focus on your reactions intensified as he coaxed you, "Aw, look at your pretty fucked out face, cum for me, okay baby?"

His words and the relentless pumping of his fingers were enough to bring you over the edge of an explosive orgasm “Oh my go-," you moaned, your voice a chorus of curses mingled with his name.

This was the first time in your life you’d actually orgasmed after being asked to. His tongue wasn’t just good at eating your pussy, he was also good with words. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. But before you could fully recover, Mark grabbed your legs and quickly flipped you onto your stomach. Your dress was hiked up, baring your ass to him. Another firm slap echoed through the room, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the hunger in his eyes as he looked over your curves, a satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you confirmed that Mark was very much an ass guy– Haechan owes you $10.

“Can’t believe my best friend is about to blow my back out," you muttered with an amused grin, the words directed more to yourself. However, Mark's snort indicated that he heard you loud and clear. "This is quite the bonding experience, don’t you think?," he said playfully and the boyish smile on his face didn’t quite match his actions. He pulled his dick out in one swift move and you felt almost embarrassed at how your mouth watered upon seeing his length and girth. You’re so glad he prepped you with his fingers before, otherwise you don’t think you could take all of him.

“What’s wrong? Never seen one this big?” you rolled your eyes. This was a side of Mark you hadn't seen before – this level of cockiness – but given what he was packing, you guess he had every right to flaunt it.

“How about you shut up and fuck me?” 

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” he seized your hips and gave them a teasing squeeze as he positioned himself at your entrance.

"Wait, shit"  he cursed under his breath, and you turned on time to see him run a hand frustratedly across his face "I don't have a condom,"

You grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward you. "I'll take the morning-after pill, just please, fuck me already.” the man didn’t need much convincing because before you knew it, he was gradually pushing himself inside you. 

The room echoed with his grunts and muffled moans as he pushed deeper inside. You struggled to stifle your own cries, but his generous stretch brought tears to your eyes, and your lip was surely going to bruise from the excessive biting.

"Shit... doll... you're... you're squeezing me so hard," he grunted, his fingers digging into your waist with a grip that promised to leave marks. Once he bottomed out, his hold on you relaxed. After the initial discomfort passed, you found yourself moaning at the intoxicating sensation of being filled completely. He gave you a brief moment to adapt to his size, peppering your backside with kisses before seeking your consent to move. And only after a strained "Please" escaped your lips, he started moving.

Though he started slow, his thrusts were anything but soft. The explicit sounds of your sticky bodies colliding filled the air, almost scandalously loud, and you couldn't help but wonder if the other guys could hear it from their rooms. It was almost as if Mark could read your mind, because he took hold of your jaw and drew you flush against his body. The change in position momentarily stifled your moans. “If you keep being this loud, the guys will surely hear how good I’m fucking you right now…” he bit your lower lip, drawing a weak whimper from you.

“But maybe that's what you want, huh? You like the idea of them hearing?… hmm.. Look how nicely you're clenching around me after I put that thought in your pretty, twisted mind.” He thrusted hard against you, this new position putting extra pressure on your muscles and you felt like you might collapse any second, but Mark was so in tune with your body language that he noticed this and swiftly flipped you over again. 

Now face to face, you had an unobstructed view of Mark Lee thrusting into you. A faint furrow adorned his forehead, and his flushed complexion extended from his neck to his cheeks. It also struck you that he had taken off his shirt somewhere along the way, exposing the expanse of his soft skin. Seizing the opportunity, your hands roamed freely across his torso, fingers tracing the contours you'd always secretly admired. You wanted to kiss it and bite it, and what was stopping you? You pulled Mark closer to you by his necklace and this sudden closeness seemed to have caught him off guard because his pace faltered a bit, you took this chance to start leaving a trail of kisses on his chest and collarbones. The soft moans he emitted as your lips grazed his skin were almost enough to send you over the edge once more. Your erratic pace was matching his unhurried thrusts as your hips met in the middle. In response, he snatched one of your legs, hoisting it onto his shoulder to penetrate even deeper.

“Shi–... you feel so, so fucking good, doll.” Mark groaned against your ear. Your eyes met as you tried to pull him impossibly closer by the hips, and at that moment you wished that eyes could talk because he was looking at you in a way he never had before. Good sex did funny things to people, you were probably his favorite person right now, if the way he was smiling like an idiot was any indication. 

“Wha..what?” you asked, trying to match his smile but the way he kept hitting that specific spot had your expressions morphing in pleasure. “Be honest… how-..fuck... how long have you wanted me to fuck you?” he said, his eyes shifting from yours to the point where your bodies joined, the sight of his dick pumping in and out of you enough to make him want to go crazy.

"T-this isn’t the time for that," you managed to say, your head lolling back until it met the plush surface of the couch behind you.

“You know…you could’ve just told me earlier… cause now I regret not fucking you before,” he confessed, his words punctuated by the exertion in his voice. Without waiting for your response, he bunched up your dress, exposing your chest. His eyes lit up as they fell upon your naked breasts, and a satisfied "Knew it" slipped from his lips. 

"Wearing that flimsy dress and no bra… did you really think I wouldn't notice?" he tutted while cupping your breast. The cool touch against your warm skin made you release an involuntary moan "You think the boys didn’t notice?" he chuckled bitterly and took one of your nipples between his forefingers, his gaze unflinching as he watched your mouth fall open in response. 

"But this was for me, wasn't it? All that innocent act in front of them, while secretly wanting me to fuck you so bad.” you whimpered in response, unable to respond or deny what he was saying because it was in part true.

“You were practically drooling at the thought of me touching you like this," he grunted and suddenly took that same nipple into his mouth, alternating between nibbling and sucking. “M-Mark, oh my go–...” The words were cut short when he began to thrust into you harder, his hips meeting yours more desperately now.

He pulled away from your breast slightly to whisper a stream of dirty nothings against your skin. You only caught the words little slut and the surprise of such a term rolling off his tongue only served to turn you on even more. Your walls instinctively tightened around him, a reaction that had him sucking your nipple even harder. 

“Shit… If you-…if you keep squeezing me so hard… I’m gonna-“ he could barely speak, his words being lost between every thrust and the feeling of your pussy taking him so well.

Mark was pretty damn sure he'd never been this pussy drunk before. He was even fighting to hold off his own orgasm just so he could bask a bit longer on how your walls were deliciously clenching around him. And oh, the view. You sprawled beneath him, disheveled yet so beautiful. Your flushed cheeks and lips, slightly swollen from your own nibbling. Bangs pushed back from your face revealing those pretty eyes that struggled to stay fixed on his. They rolled with pleasure every time he found that sweet spot. And he couldn't ignore how your tongue darted out every now and then to moisten your lips, tempting him to bridge the gap between your mouths.

“Mark.. I—I’m c…I’m cumming,” you said, grabbing onto his neck for support.

 "Me too, ah... wh-where do you want it?" he managed to ask between ragged breaths, his wide eyes strangely innocent amid the frenetic rhythm of his thrusts.

“Inside,” you said, and a glint of something flashed through his eyes. 

All of a sudden he closed the gap between your faces, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that matched the intensity of his thrusts. It stole your breath quicker than you'd care to admit. His tongue asserted itself without hesitation, as if it already knew the contours of your mouth intimately. You nipped at his lower lip juts like he did to you earlier, catching him off guard. To this, he let out a guttural whimper that would definitely linger in your mind for days to come. Mark's moans had a mix of whininess and a deep resonance that struck you at your core and you wanted to hear more of it so you kept kissing him hard. His moans became your own as your kiss deepened.

Your orgasm came first, your cries muffled by Mark's mouth. He followed suit not long after, his thrusts growing sloppier. Then, he stopped completely and you felt him filling you to a brim. You both looked down at the same time to see the messy evidence of both of your releases mixing. You immediately regretted doing this on the couch when he pulled out from you and the sticky mess spilled out of you. 

But you decided that would be a problem for your sober self to deal with later.

~~

Sober you wasn't exactly managing the situation well.

Waking up after having drunk sex with your best friend in the living room of the dorm he shared with your 6 other best friends didn’t turn out to be the chill moment you thought it would be. 

And the way his hand was casually resting on your ass, coupled with the feeling that you'd been run over by a truck about twenty seven times, certainly didn't contribute to improving your state.

You reach over to his side and grab the cushions under his head. Then, you give his body a careful nudge, turning him around slightly which oddly enough doesn’t even make him stir a little. You climb on top of him, pressing the cushion down on his face just enough to jolt him awake, without actually cutting off his air supply. His arms flail in confusion for a solid five seconds before you lift the cushion, revealing a bewildered yet still half-asleep Mark.

"What the…" was his initial reaction, though it took him a moment more to fully register the scene– you sitting on top of him, only a cushion covering your nakedness. “…fuck”

"Yeah, exactly, what the fuck," you gesture between the two of you, highlighting the rather interesting scenario.

A few seconds of just silently staring at each other went by while you could see in his eyes that he was trying to come up with what to say now.

"Uh… wanna go again?" he joked, and you respond with a playful pillow thwack, prompting a chuckle from him.

"Just kidding!"

a/n: after editing this i realized how many times i wrote the word ass and i feel ashamed lol... also the ending is kinda bleh cuz i genuinely dunno how to end my fics but i hope yall liked this! let me know in the comments how it was! xx

part 1

© hyuckiefluff

[xeeljii]

i need some long distance! joost phone sex plss i wanna be a cam girl 😩

asfgdhjklss OKAY BUT THIS IS LETTER J on the ns/fw alphabet imma just post it here since no one asked for it but yeah i agree on the personal cam girl stuff i wanna write something longer about it in the future (,,>﹏<,,)

────୨ৎ────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

CW: 18+, f! reader, phone sex, masturbation, softest degradation lol

Joost gets back to his hotel room from the venue of the show, late into the night or early morning he isn't too sure, exhausted but still pumped full of adrenaline. He throws himself onto the bed still on his sweaty clothes, should probably shower, change and go to sleep already but he is too awake for any of that. He has been thinking about you all day, you sent him a cute little selfie in the morning just you laying on the shared bed but what caught his attention was what you were wearing, his shirt and nothing but his shirt, he could see the soft outline of your perked nipples through the worn out fabric. This was the first time he had gone away since you started living together and to see you wearing his clothes while he was gone so you could feel him close, clear proof that you missed him so badly, it took all the strength in his body to not just take the first flight right there and go back to you.

But now he is alone with his thoughts again and you are the only image on his mind repeating over and over again on a loop that has him dizzy, so he grabs his phone from the pocket of his jeans and calls you, it is still early for you so he doesn't worry about waking you up, it only takes a ring to pick up like you had been waiting on him, it makes him feel hot already.

"Hello." You voice sounds a little labored, breathy like it does after he fucks you good and it makes him start twitching in his pants as the memories of all the nights he has had you flood in.

"Hi" He says, barely manages to get it out the heat in his lower body raising already. "What are you doing?" He asks, way too quick, eager to hear more of your sweet voice.

"Working out" You reply with a little tired sigh, he can picture it in his mind so clearly it pains him, you in the living room over your yoga mat stretching as music plays in the background, it is summer so you are probably wearing the tiniest little shorts that show of your legs in a way that has him interrupting you mid routine every time.

His dick twitches happily at his vivid imagination.

"How was your day?" You ask, you wish he was back already the phone calls are not nearly enough, but you don't want to worry him with that.

"Missed you." He admits, hand already flying to his belt buckle.

"Missed you too." You say softly, he pulls his pants and boxers down enough to free his already hardening cock.

"Tell me about your day." He almost begs, just needs to hear your pretty voice to get off, wants you to talk him through it.

You start talking about work and some errands you had to run, what you had for dinner and what you were planning tomorrow and you are about to start on how there will be sale at the supermarket when you hear him groan, it is barely above a whisper and you would have missed if only you weren't so familiar with all of his sounds. A devious smiles spreads on your face as you catch him red handed.

"Is this getting you off?" You ask making your voice all sultry and deep.

He can't reply but a whine escapes his mouth as his fist clenches harder on his poor sensitive dick, you chuckle at the other side of the line.

"Oh" You say so amused. You feel heat start between your own legs at the knowlegde that your voice alone is enough to have him so worked up.

"You are a pervert Joost" He whines against the phone, his hand is moving up and down his shaft almost painfully tight but still unable to recreate the delicious tightness of your cunt.

"You are pathetic." You end the word with a giggle and it gets him even harder, his dick twitches. He keeps quiet waiting for you but you are silent.

"Keep going please." He begs so pretty it is hard to say no.

"You are such a needy dog, cannot even wait." He hears you chuckle on the other side, he should be ashamed but it feels so good even when you are borderline mean it just excites him more specially because he knows you don't mean it, you are only indulging him.

"You are getting off on my voice alone, so easy. " You giggle at the last part bitting your lip.

"Fuck." He whimpers, he feels so close his dick is about to burst, precum covering the tip glistening and if you concentrate enough you could hear the wet sounds his hand is making.

"I bet you are so wet, do you miss me or do you just miss my pussy?"

"Yes, no! Fuck liefde please~" And he doesn't even know what he is asking for, it is not like you could come out of the phone and finish him off on your pretty mouth, but he wishes so badly that you could, he swears to himself he will take you with him anywhere can't even stand the thought of not having you by his side ever again.

"Oh my poor puppy." You sound mocking but still somewhat so sweet, his heart is pumping hard and fast, he hears only the blood rushing on his ears, even when you mock him there is the lingering love, you want to help him no matter how far away he is and it soothes his heart like when you lick over the fresh love bites you leave on his neck.

"It is okay baby."

He groans deeply in response, he feels the familiar burn deep inside his stomach he just needs a little more. You bite your lip, you feel at edge too knowing you have him in the palm of your hand, the high is like no other.

"I miss you too Joost, I humped your pillow yesterday I came all over it."

"Baby fuck!" He almost screams, the phone falls from his hand and ends up resting on the bed close enough where he can hear you, his hips raise from the mattress chasing after his closed fist but the only image on his mind is of you riding him. On the brink of the precipice, your confession sends him over the edge, the thought of your sweet release on his pillow, of you wanting him so bad you couldn't wait either.

"Cum Joost." It is not a plea but an order and he follows, always so obedient only for you.

"Shit." He groans as he cums thick ropes all over his hand, his shirt and even his pants.

You can only hear his heavy breathing at the other side of the line and you don't say anything just drinking on the sounds of his post orgasm bliss.

"You okay there or should i call the ambulance?" You ask sweetly after a long minute when you finally hear him breath a little easier.

He wipes his hand on the bedding before reaching for his phone. "m'kay" He whimpers, he feels all his strength has left his body.

"Was that good for you?" You ask still a little incredulous that he could get off on you talking to him alone.

"Yes, yes, perfetct thank you." He thanks you like it was you who gave him a handjob and not his own doing, it is cute the way you own his pleasure.

"I didn't know you had that type of inclination." You say a smile very present on your tone. "I cannot wait for you to come back."

The promise in the sentence leaves him hungry for more and perhaps a little scared about what door he just opened.

[nickfowlerrr]

long way home

GIF by lilacevans

pairing: dark!lee bodecker x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY. cnc smut. spanking. unprotected sex. use of the word ‘daddy’ but not pertaining to lee. fluffy ending!

words: 4.7k

notes: truly cannot believe i finally finished this lol. this is as self indulgent as ever but hey that’s the way fanfic should be imo. 😌 anyway! thank you in advance for reading, and i hope you enjoy!

comments and reblogs always welcome and always appreciated. 🫶🏻

The sirens that start sounding just moments after you pass the curve of the desolate road have your heart lurching and stomach dropping.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you mutter pathetically as you try to take a deep calming breath.

You signal you’re going to pull over and the sheriff’s car follows behind you.

It’s late and there aren’t any other cars around as the sun sets on the horizon. It’s nearly 90° out, cooler than the day had been earlier, but the heat is still suffocating. You can’t fathom wanting to pull someone over right now.

You get your wallet out and grab the envelope that holds your insurance and technically out of date registration. You’re sure you know what this will be about.

As you watch the Sheriff emerge from his cruiser, you almost pity him as he wears what you can only assume is a very scratchy uniform. Long sleeves, pants, and a ridiculous looking hat. You don’t really feel bad though, he did this to himself.

As he approaches the back of your car, he squints as he looks into your vehicle. His hands find his belt as he saunters closer, a toothpick in his mouth that he plays with.

Your anxiousness builds as he takes his sweet time getting to your window.

You greet him with a forced smile as he leans down, slapping one hand on the hood of your car while he peers down at you, getting closer.

“Hi,” you offer timidly.

“Evenin’, darlin’,” he drawls as he takes you in; clear blue eyes roving you up and down, twinkling with something…off putting. When his gaze meets yours again, his tongue moves his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “You know why I stopped you?”

“My tags,” you answer, earning a squint from him.

“Your tags?”

“Was that,” your eyes round, “not why?”

He chuckles, “You got a light out, darlin’.”

“Oh,” you mutter.

“Yeah,” he responds dully. “Expired tags, ya said?”

“Well,” you start, “they’re not exactly expired. The ones on my car are old, but the registration was paid for. I just don’t have the stickers yet,” you try to explain.

“Long way from home, aren’t ya?”

“Uhm,” your brows furrow before you can school yourself at his change of subject, “I- yeah. Just passing through on my way back.”

“Hm.”

It’s quiet between you as the air grows tense. You don’t know what to do or say, you just wait for him to continue.

“If I run your plates, am I gonna be catchin’ you in a lie?”

You stare dumbly for half a second. “Uhm, I don’t… I dont know how it’ll look or show up. I need to get my car smogged before I can get the new tags,” you admit, “but the registration is paid for. My dad paid it, he sent me the receipt and everything, I can pull it-“

“Daddy’s girl, huh?”

Your words cut off instantly but your lips stay parted in a sort of shock. Did he actually just say that? Ew. Your stomach roils at his words. At the way he’s looking at you, leaning into your car.

You titter, an uneasy sound escaping you as you give a wince of a smile. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this?

“I,” you breathe, don’t make matters worse, “yeah, I guess I am,” you shrug, offering a close lipped attempt at a smile.

Your response gets a wicked grin from him as he laughs and it makes you feel disgusting. You have to suppress the shudder that threatens to give away your agitation.

He isn’t an ugly guy, far from it if you’re being honest, but this is entirely inappropriate. You’re all alone out here with this man, a sheriff at that, and his creeping on you is verging from annoying to scary.

“Well unfortunately for you, sweetheart, I don’t think your daddy’s gonna be able to get you outta this one.”

His blue eyes are darker now and his voice is lower as he drawls his words.

Your heart stutters in your chest, squeezing as anxiety seizes you.

“What, what do you mean, sir?” you eek out through your tight throat, lashes fluttering as you search his eyes for any sort of humor, a sign that things aren’t as serious as he’s just made them sound.

“Well, you got a tail light out, old tags on your car, and your registration may be paid but that doesn’t mean it’s been renewed. I’d hate to have to take you in for somethin-“

“Take me in?” your voice raises despite yourself, “why would you take me in? You can just give me the tickets, I’m not arguing, I-“

“Did it sound like I was finished talkin’, darlin’?” he says, voice level but firm as he eyes you sharply.

Your mouth is open in your stupor before you answer, “No, sir,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“As I was sayin’,” he cuts you off, spitting out his toothpick at his feet before his gaze cuts back up to you. He kisses his teeth as he stares down at you, “I’d hate to have to take you in over somethin’ that could be…easily resolved.” He tilts his head, giving you a knowing look.

You’re disgusted.

This man is disgusting.

But there is no way he’s insinuating what he seems to be insinuating.

“Right, sir. I will get everything taken care of right away,” you nod with an anxious smile. Maybe playing dumb is the way to go here.

He tsks and your stomach drops right along with your smile.

“You know, the law here states that a driver gettin’ pulled over in an unregistered vehicle can result in said vehicle bein’ towed and said driver gettin’ their license suspended.”

You swallow hard as you let him continue, trying to will away the welling tears threatening to form in your eyes while you work to steady your breathing.

He sticks his palm out expectantly. Your brows furrow as you look at him until he instructs you. “License, darlin’.”

You scramble and find it in your wallet, handing it to him. His hand closes on yours as you place it in his hand and you force yourself not to jerk away too harshly as you pull your hand from his.

He examines your license as you wait with bated breath. You wish you could just put your car in drive and forget this stop ever happened.

“Really are a long way from home,” he muses. He drawls your name and flashes his eyes back to you for a split second. “Hm. Little old to have your daddy payin’ your bills, don’t ya think?”

You don’t respond. Shame and guilt at the reminder of your folly nipping at you again - worse now under the gaze of this man. You look at his badge as he keeps reading your license. Bodecker.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not judgin’ ya,” he smiles as he hands your license back to you, held between two fingers. You try to meet his eye but your embarrassment and anxiety keep you from holding it long as you slowly reach to take it back.

“I’ve always been under the belief that pretty ladies like yourself shouldn’t have to take care’a things like that on their own. Should have a man to take care of ‘em. 

Seein’ as that man’s still your daddy, I’m assumin’ you haven’t found someone for yourself yet,” he eyes you, “now how’s a gorgeous girl like you single?”

Your skin is crawling but deep down you’re almost grateful for the distraction from your law breaking. 

Almost.

“Sorry, sir, officer-“

“Sheriff,” he corrects.

“Sheriff. Am I getting ticketed, or…?” you trail off. Agitation ticks in his jaw and you regret not playing along and answering his question immediately.  “It’s just, it’s a long drive and I was hoping to make it home by tomorrow night,” you swallow hard, unconsciously clenching your jaw as you tense up.

“Right,” he scoffs. “Well…” he takes a deep breath, “looks to me like we got two options here, darlin’. And ticketing ain’t one of ‘em. Why don’t you do me a favor,” he says, stepping away from your door slightly, “turn off the engine and step outta the vehicle for me.”

“Sheriff?'' Your voice is quiet, undertoned with the terror you feel creeping up your spine. Why do you need to get out of your car? Why did your taillight have to go out? Why did you have to open your stupid mouth before he even told you what he was pulling you over for? Why did you have to drive through this stupid little town to begin with!

“I’m bein’ nice, sweetheart. Now you can either get outta the vehicle or I can remove you from it and put you in the back’a my own.” The turn of his voice, the dark shift in his eyes, you don’t have it in you to not listen to him.

You shut off the car, unbuckling your seatbelt, and slowly grab the door handle, breathing deeply as you push it open and step out.

God, it’s hot. You hold back a whine at the humidity that surrounds you and shift uncomfortably before the sheriff. He’s tall, and ten times more intimidating now that there’s not a metal barrier between you. You pull on the strap of your tank top as you wait for his next instruction.

“Keys,” he orders, holding out his hand.

You’re frozen despite the heat as you look at him with rounded, unsure eyes. You clutch them tighter in your hand.

You stutter a breath as he steps closer to you. He stares in your eyes as he grabs your hand and takes the set of keys easily before he strides past you back to his cruiser. You follow him with your eyes, turning your head to watch him over your shoulder.

He throws your keys into his car along with his hat before he shuts the door and comes back toward you.

“Two options,” he repeats as he stands behind you. “I think I know which one would be best for both of us.”

You feel heavy hands grip your hips and you shudder under his touch, a sharp gasp leaving you as you’re yanked back into the sheriff’s body. He’s groping you. He’s groping you and there’s no one around to see or stop him. There’s no one around to help you. There’s nothing you can do.

“Either I call a tow and get your vehicle taken down to the yard and take you in the back of my cruiser,” he rumbles in your ear as he leans into you, “or,” he breathes, his lips tickling your jaw as he lowers his head toward your neck,

“And this is the option I’m rootin’ for-” he smirks, “-you get down on your knees and take care’a this,” he intones as he grinds his stiffness into your backside, earning a breathy squeaky from you as you squeeze your eyes shut. Praying to anyone who might be listening that this is all just a bad dream, that it isn’t real. “And I’ll take care’a you, darlin’,” he simpers darkly, his hands slithering down your body as he gropes you without care. You can’t do so much as eke out a word as he touches you. You want to scream, tell him to stop, to just take you to his station and tow the damn car. But you can’t. And even if you could… where does that leave you? Your parents have done so much for you already - too much. You can’t put more on them, can’t keep running to them to solve your problems. The sheriff was right, you realize, your dad isn’t gonna be able to get you out of this.

No one can.

You won’t be able to afford getting your car out, and you won’t have any way home.

He says you have two options. But it seems you both know that you only really have one.

“Mm,” he hums as he squeezes your hips and tummy, his thumb rubbing along the exposed skin at the hem of your top, “you’re soft.”

His hands slide around your body, pressing on your stomach as he works one down the front of your leggings.

It’s in the blink of an eye that you find yourself pressed against the side of your car, the sheriff firm on your back as he holds you in place. He has one arm around your waist as his other is down your pants. He forces a leg between yours as he urges you to spread them for him. Your knees hit the car as you begin to struggle and your chest squeezes.

The sheriff shoves himself hard against you and your body is forced even more firmly to your car as you cry out at the force. You grab onto his forearm as his thick fingers rub against your covered cunt.

“Ah-ah,” he admonishes, “none’a that now, sweetheart,” he rubs himself against your ass. His fingers don’t stop as they pull at the fabric of your underwear, finally getting the access he was looking for.

He chuckles and tears prick at your eyes in your mortification as you mewl pathetically, hiding your face against the car - your wetness undeniable as he delves between your folds. You groan as he pokes at your entrance. He swirls around your wetness and drags his fingers up your sex. He nudges your clit and your breath catches at the shock.

“There she is,” he smirks, his lips against your cheek. He presses on your clit and rubs the button in sloppy circles as your voice raises despite yourself.

“Sheriff, please,” you quake under his touch. You’re firm against your car as he keeps you pressed with his weight.

“You ain’t gotta beg, darlin’, I’ll give ya what you need.”

It sounds like a taunt as you teeter on the edge. His fingers work you closer and closer to your unwanted high and as you tense and a desperate moan leaves you, a deep moan sounds from him in turn. “You’re almost there, ain’tcha,” he breathes harshly. 

Your eyes stay screwed shut as you try to block him out while your nerve endings blaze in the building tension. That coil deep inside you winding tighter and tighter as it threatens to snap.

“That was a question, darlin’, fuckin’ answer it,” he growls meanly in your ear as he jerks you against the car again.

“Yes,” you cry, not bothering to lie. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” you murmur pathetically as that coil finally snaps and your orgasm crashes over you. You hold onto his arm without thinking as you come and barely register when he kisses your hair softly, keeping you upright and against him as you come down; your soft cries like music to his ears.

He slips his hand from your pants and you let go of him, leaning on the car instead as you try to calm your breathing. 

“Much as I’d like to feel that sweet little mouth a’yours around me,” he sniffs, “be a damn shame to not fill you up when your pussy’s cryin’ for me like she is.” The sound of his belt jingling and his zipper cutting through the air has you spinning around in horror.

“No, please. You can’t do this,” you whimper, “please, sir, I-”

You’re cut off by the sheriff’s hand gripping your jaw as he squeezes harshly while you look at him with pleading eyes and puffy cheeks.

“You listen to me, and you listen good, sweetheart,” he sneers in your face, “I can do whatever the hell I want to do, whenever the hell I want to do it, you understand me?”

It’s a question you know he’s expecting an answer to as you struggle out a “yes” through his tight grip.

He lets go of your face and moves to take your arm, his grip still as tight and harsh. You can feel his strength in every move he makes against you. “Walk,” he instructs as he urges you from your car and toward his cruiser.

You can’t breathe as a renewed wave of anxiety flows through you the closer to the back of the car you get. “Wait, you said-”

“I know what I said,” he interrupts you, stopping you in your walk as he gets in front of you to pull open the back door of his cruiser. “You ain’t in handcuffs, now, are you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Then quit your blubberin’.”

He grabs you close again, quickly and easily shoving you down face first into the back of the car. You squeal and hold yourself up on the seat as he pulls your hips against him while he stands behind you, his back to the empty road. You’re only half inside the car as you feel him tear down your leggings and underwear. If someone were to drive by right now, they’d get quite the show as the sheriff shimmies down his still undone pants in kind. You’re grateful, at least, that you can’t see anything. Of course you know what’s coming next, but you won’t have to watch it, or have him see your face in this position.

The unexpected slap he lands on your ass has you yelping at the sting as he snickers, rubbing the spot gently before he does it again. 

“You like that, darlin’? I can see you gettin’ wetter already,” he taunts as he pushes the small of your back down, arching you more while he admires your cunt from behind. You feel his fingers as he rubs at you, dipping them past your entrance, slipping them in up to his knuckle while you huff through your nose, trying to hold back a moan as he wiggles them before slipping them back out.

You don’t know why you’re so shocked when the next thing you feel is his cock pushing into you. No verbal warning, just his heavy hand on your hip as he guides himself into your tight hole. He’s thick, thicker than you’ve ever had, and you want to die at the moan that floats past your lips as he groans in his delight as you're wrapped tightly around his length. His fingers flex on your hip as he frames your other side in kind, holding tightly onto you while he inches deeper inside your walls. He gets to your limit and holds himself there for a long moment. Your body moves on its own, your hips wiggling just the slightest in search of some kind of friction. 

You feel yourself heat up more in your embarrassment as he groans again, “knew you’d like this,” he says smugly.

You gasp sharply as he begins to move again, sliding almost all the way out of you before pushing right back in, your tight resistance spurring him on as your walls squeeze him snuggly. In then out, over and over again, his thick cock filling you up. With every thrust into you, he makes sure you feel every single inch of him.

Your wetness is undeniable, you can hear the lewd sounds of your fucking loud and clear as you’re rocked between him and the leather seats. The slapping of his hips against your ass and his heavy pants and growls as he grips you tightly, it all adds to the building, buzzing sensation growing inside of you. 

“Goddamn tight,” he pants, pulling you back into him by your hips as he fucks you hard, his movements growing more erratic the closer he gets. “Gonna make me bust inside a’you, darlin’. Fill you up nice and full’a my jizz,” he breathes heavily, groaning and slapping your ass hard, groping you as he moves you back and forth on his thick length.

You mewl, fingers clawing at the leather beneath you, your eyes scrunched in your thieved pleasure as you meet his thrusts. You don’t want this, but it feels so good. His cock hits that certain spot just right, and you can’t stop yourself from fucking him back in search of more. It’s awful, and it feels like heaven.

“Fuck, I’m gonna bust,” he moans, one hand slipping from your hip down to find your clit. Your walls clench around him as he winds you tighter with his touch. You don’t have a voice as you squeak a moan, eyes rolling as you drone out mindlessly, completely cock drunk as he slams into you, chasing his orgasm.

You're overcome by your own, blindingly so as the sheriff works you through it. You quake beneath him and suddenly feel the hot spurts of his come as he lets go inside of you, curses tumbling from his lips as he does, his hold on you never faltering. 

Slowly he comes down, chuckling through heavy breaths as he loosens his grip on you, instead rubbing circles on your hip.

You’re both breathing hard and you turn around gingerly to look at him, still holding yourself up on your arms. He’s pulling his pants up and zipping his fly when you both hear a rumbling approaching from behind the curve of the road just behind where you’re parked. Your brow is quirked as you listen. Head still foggy from your orgasm, you don’t piece together what the sound is. 

“Shit,” he curses as he fumbles with his belt, working quick to fasten it. “Get in, lay down, darlin’,” he instructs, pushing you back gently and closing the door on you just as you see headlights coming up from around the curve. 

You heed his instructions and lay down on the seat, heart racing, adrenaline pumping as you strain to listen past the doors of the cruiser.

You hear the car that was approaching slow down as they come up on the scene of your two cars, clearly curious. No one ever takes this back road, not even the oldtimers - not unless traffic is really bad on the main highway. But it’s late on a Sunday night, the highway is surely clear, and so should this road be, too.

“Sheriff Bodecker,” an old voice croons, “is that you, dear?”

“Ah, Mrs. Greenly,” the sheriff greets, “how are ya, ma’am?”

“Just fine, Sheriff. Comin’ back in from pickin’ up Walter’s medicine outta town. Everything alright out here?”

“Everything’s fine, ma’am. Just an abandoned vehicle we got a call about, had to come check it out before we call for a tow,” he nods toward your car. “Nothin’ to worry about,” he smiles.

“Oh,” she accepts, “well, you have a nice night, Sheriff. Stay safe.”

“Thank you, ma’am. You have a nice night, now,” he returns.

“And tell your little lady I said hello,”

“I certainly will,” he smiles again, nodding at her as she does the same.

You listen as she drives off, picking back up her speed as she does.

You hear the steps he takes as the sheriff comes back over to the door. You stare hard at him as he opens it to you and you sit up.

“What was it you said about this road never being used?” 

He laughs, leaning down close to you, taking your face gently in his hands before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as you lean up into his touch, kissing him back just as fervently. A sudden desperation coming over you, you try to pull him down with you, to be closer.

He breaks away with a heavy breath, eyes closed as he presses his forehead to yours. When he opens them, you’re met with brilliant blue eyes gazing back at you. 

“I don’t recall usin’ the word ‘never’,” he evades as you shake your head at him.

“Lee Bodecker,” you say, pulling him down further into the backseat with you as you wind your arms around his neck, “you sir, are a menace. A silver tongued devil.”

He smirks and kisses you again before he gets off of you, getting out of the car and standing up with a groan. He holds his hand out for you and you take it as he helps you out of the car. There’s a sticky mess between your legs but you ignore it as you pull your leggings all the way back up.

Lee closes the door and turns you so your back is against it as he stands in front of you.

“But did you like it?” He asks, leaning into you just a bit.

You bite down your smile and nod, “Yeah, I did.”

“Knew you would,” he says against your lips as he kisses you again. His hands fall to your waist as he holds you. “You were real’ convincin’, too. Almost had me second guessin’ myself.”

You titter at that, “Yeah?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he affirms. “But then I heard that sweet little moan a yours.” 

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur softly as his lips tickle yours. Just barely touching as you breathe him in.

“Well,” he kisses your lips softly one last time before he pulls away from you completely, “it’s hot as hell out here, sweetheart,” he walks around to the passenger door of the cruiser and opens it for you. “Why don’t I take you home and see if I can’t get any other sounds outta ya,” he simpers. You meet him at the door, standing before him with a raised brow. “Been killin’ me not hearin’ my name fall from your pretty lips all night.”

You smile as you touch his cheek. “You wanna hear me moan your name?” Lee purrs in your attention as he steps closer to you. You smirk and bend to get into the car. “Gonna have to make me.”

He licks his lips as he watches you, closing the door for you once you’re settled. He gets in on the driver’s side and you continues, "But first I'm gonna need a shower. And a lotta cuddles," you add with a soft smile as you peer at him with loving eyes.

"I can do that," he agrees, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile, his gaze just as soft for you.

"Home we go, then," you simper.

He turns his head back to the windshield and huffs as he takes notice of your car again.

He looks at you in exasperation, sighing. “You and this damn car.”

You look back sharply in challenge.

“Look, I already told ya I’m not lettin’ you drive all the way across the country alone in that thing. And I know your dad already paid your fees, but…” he sighs again and you wait for him to continue as you keep your eyes on his. “What’s it gonna take to get you to finally register it here, huh? It’s been two years. And I shoulda given you a ticket for it 22 months ago,” he adds.

You laugh, “Shoulda, coulda, but you didn’t.”

He narrows his eyes at you but it only makes you laugh more.

“It’s not my fault you flirted instead of ticketing,” you grin as you lean over the console to kiss him. “But I am grateful for it.”

You sit back down in your seat and buckle your belt as Lee hides his own smile at the memory of your first meeting, putting the car in drive as he rolls up to yours. 

“Gotta grab your wallet,” he says as he stops and gets out. You watch him as he does, admiring him - and weighing his previous question.

He gets back in, handing your wallet to you before he starts driving again, heading back into town.

“It’d be a bit of a hassle, ya know,” you muse aloud, “having to register here, getting a new id, new license, all that. Seems a little pointless just to change the state I’m living in…Now if there was something else that needed changing, something more important, something like,” you sigh dramatically, “my name, for instance, well then maybe that’d get me to finally do it,” you shrug. Lee looks over to you so quick at the mention of changing your name, you almost worry he might’ve hurt himself, but the lopsided grin that lights up his face assures you he’s just fine.

“Two years is a good while,” you add with a small smile of your own. “Plus, this place,” you emphasize, hoping he gets your meaning, him, you think as you reach for his free hand while he steers with his left, “feels a lot more like home than home ever has.”