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#idk i just think maybe some of this could have been avoided - not all of it but like
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its interesting when ppl start discussing the experience u have had your entire life and calling it transphobic and stuff 👆 like damn ive been telling people this for years and now im rethinking everything
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quarklynx · 11 months
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Folks, can we please tag posts regarding current events? not everyone is in a space where they should be seeing content like that quite so frequently
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deadrlngers · 11 months
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feeling silly, might merge all my bee gees 3 ocs into one single big lore
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toytulini · 7 months
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would be cool this yr to do like first aid training maybe?
#toy txt post#hope i can. get an opportunity to do that. not sure when. the horrors and inability to commit to things u see#but i think i should do that#at some point. altho i feel like i will almost certainly have to do CPR training? and like. like it seems like useful knowledge. and like.#i should know it and maybe im the worst person in existence for this but im a bit of a germaphobe and scared of covid and im not taking my#mask off so like. feels like. that is pretty mutually exclusive with CPR unless thereve been advancements im not aware of?#like would i be able to carry around some sort of billows but for human lungs to do that instead of my mouth? idk. this has in fact been#a legitimate hurdle to me wanting to pursue first aid training. sorry. genuinely dont know how to reconcile that and maybe! in a crisis#situation id overcome it to save a person. genuinely do not know. sorry im like a selfish horrible bitch tho and i cant see myself#doing CPR and am icked by the idea of even learning it. i know now they make those things to put on someones mouth but its still like.#that doesnt do anything against respiratory shit...idk. like is it worse to not pursue any of this at all to avoid the ethical quandry of#not wanting to deal with CPR even as a concept bc im a stupid baby squicked out by lip touching? or is it worse to do first aid and learn#like everything except CPR so i could still theoretically help in some cases that arent necessarily CPR. idk. im sure im just a Bad Person#for this and hate to even admit it. i think i should at least try to find a stop the bleed course or smth ig
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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months
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#hello darkness my old friend. I have insomnia again#it seems i wont get back to sleep. making this the 4th night in a row of 4 to 5hrs sleep. woof#is it insomnia or am i on the bleeding edge of hyp0mania? idk its weird. i can feel the strain in my head#my thoughts dont connect as well. its like im being pulled in two directions. my brain becoming spaghettified. growing thin around the#middle. but im not as tired as one might expect. ive been pretty productive and optimistic but anxiety and internal restlessness are up#like im tired but also i need to get up and pace around. maybe jump up and down. maybe run in circles.#the energy comes in waves. sitting in lectures or sitting for the extended addition of l0tr has been somewhat unbearable#bc im so contained. i would not ever get up and walk around while those things were happening but i desperately wanted to#ugh. whats my problem? who's to say. could also b the medication. i see the psychiatrist next week and i think ill beg to b put back on#lam1ctal. just bc when i was taking it on a super low does i had a week or feeling the most normal i think i ever have in my life#anxiety and evil thoughts were so small and i felt happy in a way im not sure i ever have been#like i think under normal circumstances i just have a low capacity for joy. at most i feel neutral. like i was telling my friends how i#might do some field work in winter and they were enthusiastic abt it and i kno y bc it sounds cool but idk i just dont feel anything abt it#i cant see past the pain it will take to get there. and i mean mood wise i feel alright on 4bilify like in a nutral way but stable isnt#the same as feeling happy. but maybe its all just in my head. 25mg lam1ctal shouldnt b enough to b effective#but idk i think im just sensitive to the chemicals in my body. including hormone fluctuations. idk. i hope she lets me switch.#itll b a pain in the ass to readjust in terms of going off what im on now and it might not work#but theres literature on retrying lamicta1 and they say to avoid inflammatory reactions in the first 2 months. which i did not do. oops#not that i was trying. i didnt think abt it until id had a million holes poked in my skin and was experiencing a mild tatt00 allergy#ugh. anyway. tbh id prefer this being hyp0mania vs insomnia bc then at least i can continue to function a bit during the day#ive never done anything that wild while hyp0manic aside from injure myself from over exercising and make bad choices in how i spend time#ie become insane abt something and not b able to think abt anything else. ugh. and i guess at this point ive tentatively accepted the idea#of being bip0lar. so i swear to christ if i was misdiagnosed ill b so mad. its just that if i fill out an 4dhd and bip0lar checklist. i#get a way heavy positive with bip0lar and the 4dhd is meh. so i think i just have overlap in symptoms due to dyslex1a and 4utism#ugh. me and my collection of diagnoses. so it goes#unrelated
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ozlices · 1 year
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really fucking sucks that it does not matter how openly we cry about how fucked up we are after everything this year has put us through, we are just. ignored. like. we're very open about having abandonment issues & a burden complex, but nobody gives a fuck abt ensuring that isn't. you know. constantly fueled in the aftermath of all the shit this year put us through.
we haven't suffered in silence. quite the opposite. but we're literally just. ignored. & left to rot. no matter how transparent we are abt how badly we're doing. & it sucks. like it's getting to a point where we're genuinely starting to get apathetic towards our friends & we don't fucking care to fight it off anymore.
if my friends were posting the kinda shit we do during our meltdowns, id be rushing to call them as soon as i could. maybe im just different. maybe im just a dumbass for caring so goddamn much! cause jfc it clearly isn't mutual no matter what!
how am i supposed to fight off my persecutor telling me nobody fucking loves me bc i don't deserve it when i can beg for somebody to lend their hand to me, & all i get is silence.
we haven't been checked up on. anyone we used to talk to daily has just decided we're too depressing or whatever to be around, i guess. like. idk what anyone wants from us anymore. i really fucking don't. all we want is to have somebody give a shit abt us & fucking MEAN it. actually be there for us. actually take care of us the same way we take care of everybody else.
but nah nah instead we're just. having our complexes fueled. our persecutor's ammo refilled, meanwhile we're left with nothing. absolutely fucking nothing.
the best relationship of our lives couldn't even last longer than a month & no matter what, we can't fight being made to feel like we just weren't worth keeping around.
we've never escaped being "too depressed to handle" as our token in a friend group, but like. idk. maybe if we weren't made to constantly feel so fucking alone & like nobody genuinely gives a shit abt us, we'd be able to At Least cope a bit better.
idek what to do or say anymore. like our persecutor gets on our ass for saying "nobody cares" like "oh well you're just being manipulative & fishing." bitch i GENUINELY fucking feel like nobody fucking cares about me & not a single goddamn person has tried to significantly fight that notion to any genuine degree.
it'll be fought with filler words in the moment, but again. nobody checks on us. nobody just randomly tells us they love us and care about us. nobody does the little things we've always done for our loved ones we know are going through rough times. even if we directly tell people it helps. so, what the fuck else am i sposed to say or think.
im tired of feeling like this. im tired of being lonely, and unloved, and uncared for, and like it's all fucking pointless. im tired.
i just feel like we're just forgotten about until we're needed. but when we are the ones who need someone else to help us? well, we can just fucking rot, then. i guess. we're just an annoying burden who's too depressing to be around. not worth any genuine effort. and we cannot keep fighting that notion when nobody gives a shit to stand with us against it.
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zemnarihah · 2 years
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much to think about.
#i had lunch w my sister today and she was talking abt our dad and abt how him being like emotionally abusive made her a huge people pleaser#and she was like yeah i think you didnt get that as much#you were always the one who stuck to your guns or just didnt talk to him#and at first i was like what bc i literally dont think anything i ever did could be rlly described as actually sticking to ones guns i alwa#felt like i was so avoidant of any conflict w him bc yk i was like. terrified of him. but i was thinking abt it and compared to her i think#like yeah actually shes right? bc i would avoid conflict w him but i did that by like fully cutting off our relationship as much as#possible and she did it by trying to please him all the time. which probably neither were that healthy obviously they were jsut like. our#instincts for how to protect ourselves yk. but the thing is for the past few months i thought i had been learning how to not be so scared#of making ppl mad and to be more assertive and stuff. but i think actually i probably have always had that strength maybe it was just.#kinda beaten down for a while since standing up for myself always made things worse. so the other option to not allow him to treat me like#that was to cut myself off from him. But i still did that yk? idk.#like i was thinking more abt it and#i was the one who left the church at 18. after i moved out but i did. and i didnt hide it after that. my sister has apparently been mentall#out for years now and nobody in our family knows but me. bc she is so scared to disappoint him. and like idk. i always was like why couldnt#i get out earlier bc i know so many ppl who just said fuck you im not going anymore at like 14 or smth and i was like why couldnt i do that#but i guess looking at it from my sisters pov our situation was just really fucking hard. and i guess im realizing i was honestly a lot#stronger and braver than i thought i was that whole time. idk.#lol its like bittersweet. bc it makes it so much more real that it was actually super fucked up. the way we grew up. like i think sometimes#the easiest thing is for me to go haha yeah my dad was kind of a dick and whooaaahhh so crazy i grew up mormon hahah! but its like no that#was fucked up. but look at how i made it through that yk. its kind of making me. idk. develop some more respect for myself i guess#idk idk#ignore me i am just journal posting . lol#exmo tag
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dredshirtroberts · 1 year
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There are some things I don't think I will ever be able to forgive my parents for.
The internal voice in my head that blames my pain on what i did or didn't do - mainly didn't do, because of course if i moved around more i wouldn't be injured (let's just conveniently ignore/forget most of my injuries happened while at my most active). And obviously i don't move around enough because 1) they didn't see it and 2) i'm fat (derogatory).
This is, of course patently incorrect. first of all i am shaped like a gravitationally-powered time piece and have been since i was young. But apparently that is enough to be deemed "fat" by my family since i grew tits at age 9-10. Like and fat isn't a bad thing?? and you can be healthy and active while fat??? and i was! i was very active and...well i can't say healthy during that period of time because i was actively starving most of it because - as i was perceived as fat - i was berated about my food intake (at *minimum* it was commented on snidely) and constantly monitored about what i could have and when i could have it. My parents were on yo-yo diets constantly during my teen years when i was running Multiple Miles A Day, at minimum 3 days a week, or swimming actively anywhere from 2 hours a day 3 days a week to 3 hours a day nearly 5 days a week.
My knee blew out and swelled up to 2x its size while i was a councilor in training at a summer camp for 2 weeks. My shoulder blew out mid lap, mid practice and i finished the practice before i mentioned it and it *was* x-rayed but i never found out what happened to it. If mom heard back about it, she never told me. I *fell off* horses TWICE, once getting kicked in the ribs at 10, and the second one i tore a huge chunk of skin off my hand and had scrapes on my back from getting dragged through gravel. AFTER WHICH I WENT TO SWIM PRACTICE. And then there was the tap dancing which i did *along side training for half-marathons*. WITH MY PARENTS. I DID THIS WITH THEM. THEY KNEW I DID THIS MUCH.
but because i tended to stay pretty stationary at home (god why wouldn't i? even if i wasn't fucking DISABLED with a CHRONIC PAIN ISSUE from my CONNECTIVE TISSUE DISORDER (as of yet unnamed specifically - i *really* need to get my shit together and see a doctor) I was exhausted because i WAS RUNNING SEVERAL MILES IN THE MORNING AND THEN EXPECTED TO TEACH MYSELF MY OWN FUCKING SCHOOL WORK.
but yeah i was lazy and didn't move around enough and so any injuries i got, or stiffness and pain when i moved from my stationary position was my fault. My knee wouldn't have blown out if i didn't sit with it tucked up underneath me. My shoulder wouldn't have blown out if I...idk been more careful??? doing the same stroke i'd been doing the same way for several years at that point?
I walked FIVE MILES A DAY, EVERY DAY, FIVE DAYS A WEEK. at my most recent job *just to get to the damn job*, let alone the 10-12 HOURS ON MY FEET WHILE THERE before i burnt out (gee I WONDER WHY) and thankfully shortly thereafter i got a car so I could make it to the shifts I could still work at that point, ones that got shorter and shorter as my body just failed right out from underneath me. IN FUCKING FOOD SERVICE. (notably a rather physically intensive job)
My pain during my desk job years was from sitting still too long. My pain during training during my athletics was from not stretching enough, not being careful enough. My pain during the physically taxing jobs was because i didn't move enough during the day so of course i was going to hurt myself.
no matter what i did. it was my fault i hurt. it couldn't ever be that there was something wrong with me that they needed to help me look into. And i internalized the shit out of that.
I tweaked my back the other day. Don't know what i did. it's been like 3 days now, and i move really stiffly because it's my lower back, near my hips and tailbone, and it hurts to move. i've taken meds 2ce today and i am *really bad* at taking meds during the day. i stretch during the day, i get up and move around as best i can - i might not do it as often as i probably *should* but if you were in pain you'd do your best not to move as much too! it hurts!
but gosh if i only moved more, lost weight, could turn straw into gold and spin my hair into a rope to reach the stars. Then I wouldn't be in pain and really it's my own fault. Right?
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dxxtruction · 23 days
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#I kind of wish they'd given Armand at least one or two clear positive traits but idk maybe they did he just can't actually be#owned to them because he's built up so much SHIT and doubt around himself and towards Louis and tries it also with Daniel it's like#Impossible to say anything positive isn't also negative by association of how it serves to uplift his negative motivations#But I mean just to throw some out there??#I think he's naturally curious and uh... I think he at least wants to try being better?#But its fails miserably because he's so narcissistic and withholds far too much of his intentions and actions#He views a lot of negative traits as positive ones and positive traits as negative when there in contention with himself#I feel he conflates a bunch of things on terms of whats good behavior and bad behavior because he'd been adapted to it that way#He wants to be better but doesn't actually commit to it.#Thats sort of the unfixed sense of self coming in#Armands opinions on things have clearly changed to be diametrically different to what they were 70 years ago#But he also severely avoids owning up to all negative things about himself.#I think one positive trait is that he can regret his actions? He can self reflect.#but I don't think he self reflects enough to see the truth behind his actions or what future actions could have in consequence#Guilts good because then it's not a total lack of empathy there. But he displays it in such a guilt trippy way it becomes negative.#A lot of things about Armand are just like that actually.#His most natural impulse is to simply destroy everything but he loses that impulse if he can love care or wield control over that#I feel he recognizes he cant let such impulses run rampant but then he's just sitting on a mountain of repression to make his self image#appear better than the very very dark shit that's him underneath#These two things can't... integrate properly.#Partly because he's always in the wrong envoirment for it because he can't obtain this through gaining it out of other people actually#I think its disingenuous to say he's in total awareness of his actions as bad and that he's doing all of this to be intentionally harmful.#Even if he is at fault and consequence for them#and like unless there's an outright lie I think a lot of the things he says are things he genuinely believes but they just come into#so much contention with others and their safety and values etc.#But he could just as easily be orchestrating all of this with full awareness and intention. So it's really an interpretational thing.#Most of this is like ... not talking about his positive traits lol. They're there he's just too much of an asshole to get to have them.#Like if I were to place a disorder on him it'd be histrionic narcissist.
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snekdood · 4 months
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#fave#videos#thank yoooooooou#you get it#characters arent people and people arent characters#people irl deserve redemption. characters dont need to have redemption and sometimes its hurtful to the story if they do#i COULD make a redemption arc for zero-- but it would be stupidly complicated within my characters relationships given whats hes done in#the past. plenty of my ocs still would never want to be in the same room with him. it just adds unnecessary coffee au drama thats just not#the focus of my story at all. and hes not even a real person. hes an idea- an amalgamation of bad experiences I and others have had#manifested into one being that seeks to inflict these pains#likely his redemption arc would come from no longer being a vampire. but idk where he would go. and i really dont care to write it tbh#i have other minor antagonists I think would be better suited for a redemption arc than him. hes just done too much shit.#just in the same way a lot of azula stans would say ozai is irredeemable thats how I feel about zero.#and its how I feel about azula too tbh. yeah her story is sad and its possible to sympathize with but shes like a machine at this point#her humanity has been stripped away by her abusive father- and I dont think it would serve the narrative to have her suddenly appear#in a therapists office and crying about her trauma or whatever.#in this video he mentions how some ppl think its more 'realistic' to have her redeemed but... i really dont think it is bud#clearly you have not dealt with an azula in your real life. they're impossible to get along with and MOST people stop interacting w them.#they do end up isolated and alone bc of their actiosn. even if those actions are informed by a complex abuse system.#its sad but its also an important story to tell so people can at least maybe see themselves going down that route and stop themselves#characters help give examples to people of what would've happened if they made this or that choice. and thats the purpose azulas narrative#shows. irl people deserve a second chance and thats why we make these stories so they can know to try to avoid acting a certain way that#will only in the end harm their chance at a second chance.#not that its impossible- just that less people will be willing to go along w you on it than there would've been before you fell down hard
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icedille · 5 months
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the wall of not doing things has been absolutely awful lately and i genuinely have no idea why anymore. like i am just stupid why do i feel like i'm being crushed by a mountain every time i try to focus. what is going on lol
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myownwholewildworld · 1 month
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uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer
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series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii
pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.
summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.
a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3
warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.
w/c: ~4.6k.
tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):
@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie
“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.
You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.
The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.
You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.
You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.
That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.
Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.
The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.
“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.
Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.
However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.
“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.
When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.
You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.
“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.
You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.
“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.
His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.
Your mouth watered.
You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.
His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.
“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.
Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.
Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.
“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”
“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.
You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.
“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”
You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.
“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”
“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”
Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.
You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.
That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.
“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?
You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.
“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”
He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.
“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.
“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.
He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.
Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.
His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.
“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.
You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.
The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.
“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.
You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.
“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.
No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.
His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.
It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.
Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.
Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.
Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.
“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.
You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.
“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.
Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.
Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?
It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.
But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.
His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.
“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.
Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.
Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.
“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.
Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.
So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.
Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.
When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.
You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?
“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.
Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.
“But―”.
“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.
You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.
“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.
Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.
You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.
“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.
Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.
You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.
With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.
“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.
Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.
His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.
You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.
Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.
“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.
His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.
“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”
You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.
You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.
Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.
“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”
Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.
He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”
You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.
Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.
Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.
Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.
Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.
He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.
“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.
He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.
Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.
He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.
Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.
You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.
You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.
The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.
Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.
“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.
“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.
“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.
His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.
And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.
You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.
“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.
“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.
“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.
At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.
“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.
You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.
But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.
What had you done?
Well, you had gambled, and you lost.
But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.
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hauntedrain · 7 months
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For Years! | Max Verstappen x Reader |
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Social media AU Summary: Max and reader get criticism over the status of their relationship.
✮▹ A/N: So sorry for not posting for so long. Life has been BUSY. but hopefully i can post more and write more! Love you guys <3
✰▹Warnings/Notices: Not edited. nothing really. reader mentioned to write music
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Liked by Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, & 3,345,678 others
@Y/N: Lovely time lately.
view all 19,234 comments
user1: LMFAO MAX.
user2: Y/N you'll always been iconic
user3: sometimes I forget Max Verstappen is dating THE Y/N L/N.
↪ user4: SO TRUE. It completely passes my mind that they've been together before he even got to F1.
↪ user5: THEY'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 9 YEARS?
↪ user6: YEA ITS WILD.
↪ user7: wait but they haven't gotten married or anything?
↪ user8: Yea no. They also avoid the questions around it. Kind of weird to me.
↪ user9: But hasn't Y/N written songs about marriage and getting married? Why haven't they?
↪ user10: Maybe they just don't want to. Or max doesn't.
MaxVerstappen: Why did you choose that photo of me.
↪ Y/N: You want me to post the photo from yesterday?
↪ MaxVerstappen: NO.
↪ user11: LMFAO. PARENTS.
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Liked by Y/N, Redbull, & 2,345,567 others
@MaxVerstappen: Great race and great win! Getting ready for next week. And thank you to @Y/N for making me but those glasses, best purchase.
View all 14,567 comments
Y/N: I told you they were a good investment
↪ MaxVerstappen: I don't know if you would call it an investment.
↪ Y/N: I'll post that picture.
↪MaxVerstappen: It was a great investment! better than a house!
↪ user12: better than a ring?
↪ user13: STOP. but no fr, wheres the ring Max?
user14: Okay nice win but when yall getting married?
user15: everyone needs to mind their business, maybe they're just not ready to get married and that okay.
↪ user16: But its been 9 YEARS. NINE YEARS. Its a red flag.
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liked by 18,234 others
@F1GOSSIP: Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N have been criticized over the status of their relationship. The couple has been together for over 9 years however many fans have realized that there's been no movement in the relationship, family and marriage vise. Thought?
view all 5,567 comments
user17: I mean its their life but 9 years?
user18: Idk guys don't hate me but sometimes max doesn't seem interested in Y/N. Like all of the Monaco GP? seem happy around her.
↪ user19: Bro look at the pictures in the post. Does he seem unhappy in them? No he seems very happy.
↪ user20: Okay but lets be honest. Both only seem that happy in front of a camera.
User21: I mean for some of their relationship they were fairly young. Maybe they just wanna enjoy it little by little.
↪ user22: I think in 9 years you can enjoy a lot.
user23: I wouldn't marry her either. Max knows what's best which is why he hasn't done it.
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Y/N has posted to their story!
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liked by 6,678,567 others
@MaxVerstappen: happy 3 year anniversary @Y/N. love you much and cant wait for years to come. Also, people said I hated her? How could I?
view all 35,567,878 comments
Y/N: Guys my husband is kinda cool.
↪ MaxVerstappen: Kinda?
↪ Y/N: yea cuz im cooler than you.
↪ MaxVerstappen: Okay love.
user24: WTF 3 YEARS?
user25: max said hold my 3x WDC titles while I make everyone shut up about my relationship.
↪ Y/N: He just wins everything doesn't he?
↪ CharlesLeclerc: Yea its kinda annoying. you should distract him Y/N
↪ MaxVerstappen: Dont tell my wife to distract me, I'll lose.
↪ CharlesLeclerc: thats the point.
↪ LandoNorris: I just wanna win.
↪ user26: LMFAO WHAT IS HAPPENING
↪ Y/N: Im collecting them all
User27: And people said max didnt wanna marry her.
user28: Bro just keeps winning doesnt he. Y/N GIVE ME A CHANCE.
user29: if you look closely you can see me getting run over by an F1 car.
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⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: I hope you guys like it! I need to post more but ive gotten so busy and haven't had the time. But I'll try to post more often. Love you guys! hope you enjoyed.
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claytonia · 2 years
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Pearly everlasting (transplant), few flowered shooting star (nursery) and fine-leaved lomatium (from seed!!!) all sprouting ! Lets effing go.
#garden#plants#l#at the start of the semester i always dostract myself with some grievance about the way that i am / what other lives i could have lived .#it is very distracting from making my life better in the present but i never learn and always spend the first month in a fugue state .#+ i am really lucky and have a lot to appreciate about my life and i forget about that as well#2 fixations atm: i am uncomfortable in social situations > this energy understandably makes others uncomfortable > im more uncomfortable bc#theyre uncomfortable etc etc avoidance pain suffering dying. breaking this cycle is difficult. have to divert self-focused attention#& be more comfortable with my self. this is hard to do when confidence is in the gutter which leads to fixation 2#what if i hadnt switched majors. what if i was still in art. what if i had broken up w gf before leaving for school. did she influence my#decision to switch majors or was that me? i am so easily convinced that w/e im doing is a bad idea#would i have more confidence if i had stayed in aet? would i have been forced to make connections with ppl if i wasnt thinking about what#she was doing back home?#would i have had tha breakdown?#idk probably i think im overestimating my mental state at 18. but it feels like there were some neuronal connections that never rewired.#its so easy to think of all the things thAt could be better but ig theres also things that would be worse . i wouldnt have my doggy.#i probably wouldnt have come to appreciate my parents as much. maybe i never would have tried towork on my mennal health.#idk. it just hurts to learn how to be a person again at 22. and thinking of all the ways things could be.#different doesnt help. also i have to stop smoking pot im worried it has leached sum esscence out of me . ah well#i need to eat smthing
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winterarmyy · 7 months
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Kiss It Better
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of. 
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Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.
Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader
Words: 3.2k++
Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--
Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point).  And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.
She can't.
So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.
Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.
Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find answer a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.
He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind. 
When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again. 
Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.
Most of his senses are enhanced after all.
So, why was she avoiding it?
Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.
Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.
Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.
He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.
Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.
He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.
As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.
The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"
He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn.  Nothing compares.
A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.
The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.
So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.
She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection  and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"
She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.
Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling."  He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.
The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.
Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.
She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.
Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.
His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.
"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.
When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.
She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.
Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."
Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.
She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.
Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.
Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.
"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.
He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.
She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.
Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"
Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.
"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.
Realizing what she just had just done,  she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"
Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."
She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"
Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her  below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.
She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.
The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.
Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice,  he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."
Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.
But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.
The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face,  "You..." he rasped.
Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"
He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.
"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.
Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"
She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."
That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper.  "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.
He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.
Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.
And then he does it again and again.
Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.
With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.
"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.
And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.
Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.
Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.
"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"
He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly.  She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.
Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.
And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.
So sweet and warm and addictive.
While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.
Yet he was still hungry.
She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡
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daisynik7 · 8 months
Text
I want to be with you everywhere
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“You really didn’t have to walk me back,” you say, staring down at your feet, slow steps across the wet pavement, not at all minding the puddles.
Nanami’s beside you, umbrella tucked between his ribcage and bicep, hands inside his pockets. “It might rain again,” he replies, gaze also focused on the ground below you, a stray strand of his blond bangs falling across his forehead. The aftermath of happy hour is evident amongst the two of you, from the slight blush tinted on his cheeks to the buzz tingling along your hot skin. Though you’re not entirely sure if it’s from the alcohol or from being in such close proximity with the man you’ve fallen for. Maybe it’s both.
Your coworker has always been a gentleman around the office, but recently, you can’t help but wonder if he’s any different towards you versus someone like Mari in Accounting or Hana in HR. It seems that any chance he gets, he chooses to be with you in some shape or form. Working on a project together, volunteering to help you search for archived files in the warehouse, inviting you to lunch with him and only him. It could be wishful thinking on your end, or it could mean something. Whatever it is, you’re not complaining, enjoying his company way more than a normal coworker should.
There’s a comfortable silence as you continue your stroll, his elbow brushing yours with every stride. You like this about him, how he doesn’t force a conversation just to fill the void. Sometimes the silence is more telling than words themselves. It gives you the chance to secretly study his mannerisms, the ones you’ve memorized and buried inside your mind like hidden treasure. How his lips twitch just barely to tease that smile of his. The cadence of his steps, not too fast, not too slow. You’ve learned to recognize his gait just by the sound of it from hearing it so often in the office. At this point, it’s almost soothing, like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat.
But not yours in this moment, because it’s currently racing. Your confession lingers on the tip of your tongue. You chalk it up to the liquor you consumed more than two hours ago, plenty of time for you to sober up. Still, you blame it on that, because if it goes wrong, then at least you have that to fall back on. A momentary lapse of judgement and not at all a humiliating misunderstanding, right?
Before you can speak, the rain interrupts you, almost as if someone watching from above is determined to save you from impending doom. Nanami looks up, then at you, grinning. “See?” He opens the umbrella, holding it tight in his hand, hovering over your side more than his. “Good thing I’m with you.”
His unprotected shoulder starts getting dotted with wet spots from the drizzle. You close the distance between you, huddling nearer to him. Without thinking, you grab the handle, grip right below his, steadying the umbrella to cover the two of you completely. “You’re right,” you smile softly, still avoiding his eyes. “I’m happy to be with you.”
The confession can wait a little while longer. For now, this is more than enough.
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Author's Note: Was listening to this song all day today and it just makes me feel like falling in love, idk 🩶 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Part 2 here.
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