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You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 18
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤
All OC Characters belong to me
Series Masterlist
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July 30th 2021
Airielle numbly walked around the arena before the show started. She didn’t have a destination, she was just walking, trying to distract herself from thinking about Josh. Because, it wasn’t the fact that she didn’t want to be with him, she did. She was in love with him and if he never asked her to move in with him, they would still be together. 
It wasn’t his fault though, he didn’t know the full story of what went down with Christopher. The thought of living with another man terrified her. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, she felt herself shut down. She remembers stuttering out an excuse to leave his apartment, she remembers the look of confusion on his face as she all but ran out of the door and she remembers the pain in his voice as she told him she didn’t want to be with him anymore. 
Airielle let out a sigh as she looked at her watch. It was 15 minutes to showtime so she decided to get her makeup touched up.As she sat down she noticed Yara, a new backstage announcer and Zelina Vega were sitting in front of her. She was about to speak and say hello but something Zenlina said made her freeze. 
“You’ve been smiling at your phone all day. Is it Josh again?” Airielle’s world stopped. Of course he would move on. She was the one who ended things with him. She zoned out for the rest of their conversation as she was pretty sure she had just lost the best thing that had happened to her. 
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“Hey Airielle. Can I sit here?” Airielle blinked as she was brought out of  her thoughts. She didn’t even remember walking to catering. “Airielle?” She looked up at Raymond and nodded her head. “You alright” he asked her as he sat down.  She blinked again and forced a small smile on her face. 
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She said, 
“”You sure, you look zoned out or something.” 
Airielle was about to be sick. Yara and Josh walked into catering with Josh having an arm thrown around Yara’s shoulders. They were both laughing and Airielle wanted to know what the fuck was so funny.  
She needed to get out of there fast. She abruptly stood from her seat and without saying another word to Raymond she walked out of catering. After making a stop at Hunter’s office, telling him she was too sick to work tonight. She made her way to the locker rooms to find Trin. 
 “Hey baby girl you okay?” Trinity asked as she opened the door to The Bloodline’s locker room. Airielle felt her bottom lip tremble and of course, Trinity noticed. “Airielle what’s wrong.” Trinity asked getting the attention of Jon and Joe and they immediately came to the door to see what was wrong. 
Fuck. Airielle thought as she felt the first tear slide down her face. Jon immediately jumped into big brother mode. “Who the fuck did it!” 
“Guys, I'm fine.” She said but her voice cracked and more tears started falling. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel and probably find an early flight home. I just wanted to tell you so y’all weren’t waiting for me.�� 
She turned to walk away but was stopped by Josh standing right behind her. Should have just sent her a text. 
Josh noticed her tears and cupped her face, making her look at him. “What happened.” 
“Why don’t you ask Yara.” She said, glaring at him while she pushed him away from here. 
“Oop.” Trinity said, pulling Jon and Joe back into the locker room and closing the door.  
“Wait.” Josh chuckled. “You mad at me? For hanging out with Yara?” He scoffed. “I mean i’m single right?” Airielle wiped her tears and nodded her head. 
“You’re absolutely right, you are single. So if you’ll excuse me.” She said shouldering her way past Josh. 
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July 31st 2021
Paul had granted Airielle her two week vacation early and she was beyond grateful. It couldn't have come at a better time. She had just walked out of the gym when her phone pinged with a notification. 
Raymond : Hey, i’m in Pensacola visiting my grandma. You wanna chill or somethin?” 
Airielle bit her lip as she contemplated  his offer. 
To Raymond: sure. Give me a time and place & ill be there. 
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Raymond had decided to take her to a local lounge/bar that she had visited with Jon and Trin multiple times and was very grateful that they were not there tonight. 
“How many times am I gonna let you hustle me?” Airielle laughed as she placed the fifty dollar bill he just handed her into her bag. 
“Lets just call it payback for looking at my ass every time I bent over to hit the ball.” Raymond looked shocked then shrugged with a smile on his face causing Airielle to shove him lightly. “ Thank you for inviting me out tonight. I really needed this.” Raymond shrugged and wrapped his arm around Airielle’s shoulder and started leading her to her car.
“It’s not a  problem Airielle, really. I like hanging out with you.” Airielle smiled and pulled her keys out of her purse. 
“I like hanging out with you too.” Airielle’s eyes widened as Raymond started lowering his head towards her. She was about to push him away but… If Josh was moving on, so could she. 
Raymond let out a groan as their lips met. Airielle wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her and deepening the kiss. 
“You know.” A voice called out, startling the two of them. “Here I was feeling bad because you seen me hanging out with Yara.”  It was almost comical how wide Airielle’s eyes were as she turned to face Josh.  
“Josh,” She started. Taking a step towards him but he took a step back and started shaking his head. 
“I’m done Airielle. Whatever games you playin.” He shook his head. “I don’t wanna play anymore. You got it.” Josh sighed as he pushed past Airielle and Raymond and started walking towards the bar. 
“Fuck.” Airielle muttered, before getting in her car and driving away, without saying goodbye to Raymond. 
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Airielle... smh..
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The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4
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ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!
Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.
What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.
But two could play that game.
Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)
Word Count: 4590
Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)
Taglist - comment or message to be added!
Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)
< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >
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PART 1: Chapter 4
Unconditional Violence.
Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)
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New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.
You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.
You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.
It always does.
When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.
And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.
Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.
The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.
“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.
All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”
He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”
Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.
“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”
Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”
The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”
You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”
He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.
--
New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.
There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.
But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.
Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.
So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.
You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.
“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”
All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.
Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.
You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.
Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.
On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.
Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.
“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.
Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.
Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.
Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.
Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.
Extroverted people.
Yeesh.
At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.
Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.
Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.
“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”
Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.
Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.
Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.
The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.
This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.
Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.
You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.
Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.
“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”
You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”
Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”
Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.
--
Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.
Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.
The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.
“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”
During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.
Looked like someone else was listening in too.
Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.
Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.
When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.
“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”
Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.
“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”
All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.
“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.
Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”
Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”
Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.
--
You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.
With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.
What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.
“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”
A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.
Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.
Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.
A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.
You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.
“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”
Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.
“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”
You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.
Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?
Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.
“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.
Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.
Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.
“Boudreaux.”
Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.
You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”
Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!”  he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.
Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.
“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.
Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”
You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”
The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”
Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.
“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.
You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.
“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”
Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.
The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.
“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”
Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)
I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!
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< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >
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sashaisready · 2 days
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This Must Be The Place: Chapter 2 -Feet on the ground
Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader
Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.
Series Masterlist
No specific warnings in this one (apart from Biker!Bucky of course). Some brief references to grief. Sorry it's on the shorter side, just need to set up our story. Thanks to all who have reblogged/commented, it means a lot!
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You sipped your drink as you told Bucky all about granny and moving into her house. He nodded solemnly as he leaned on the bar and listened intently, the depth of his attention surprising you. You didn’t expect him to be so easy to talk to. Behind you, Wanda and Vis were very obviously pretending to be chatting, while clearly eavesdropping on your conversation.
“Oh yeah, she was a nice lady. I’m sorry for your loss,” Bucky told you with sincerity after you’d finish the whole tale. “She was a tough old gal”.
“Uh, thanks,” you replied quietly, not realising until now what an emotional gut punch it still was to talk about her. “And yeah…she was”.
You cleared your throat and changed the subject. You cocked an eyebrow and looked at him curiously.
“So…what’s your deal?”
He grinned, “What’d you mean?”
“You know,” you pointed to his kutte, “all this. You’re one of the top guys, I guess? I’m sorry, I don’t really know the lingo…”
“I’m the President” he smirked and pointed to one of his patches, clearly a little amused by your ignorance.
You peered over at the fabric square. “Mm. So, what, you drive around town on your bikes causing mayhem and throwing darts at women’s butts?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he laughed. “But mostly we’re here, or at the auto shop across town”.
“Busy, busy” you teased. “I’m sure its all legitimate and above board…”
He winked. God, what a dangerous wink. You instinctively knew that wink had ruined lives.
You both exchanged a small smile.
“You’re not afraid of me, huh?” Bucky teased.
“Should I be?” you boldly shot back.
He grinned. “No. But a lot of people are”.
“Well…your aesthetics aren’t super warm and fuzzy”.
“No…guess not”.
You continued to sip your drink as you tried to fight off the nagging voice telling you to back off. God only knows what he gets up to when he’s not at the bar or fixing cars or at whatever other business fronts they had. You didn’t need another dangerous, no-good man in your life…You were only supposed to sort the house out, live quietly for a little while and then leave. Not get embroiled with the locals, and certainly not with the President of a probably criminal motorcycle club…
…and yet…
“So…you working while you’re staying here?” he asked curiously.
“Mm. Maybe. I have some savings. And thankfully the mortgage at my grandmother’s place is paid off, so at least that’s one less thing. But I might get something part time to keep the lights on”.
Bucky smirked and held his arm up to the bar behind you. “Work here”.
You laughed. “What? Yeah, good one…”
“I’m serious. You need extra cash. We apparently need some help here after you tore my poor bartender apart. So why not? Sounds like you have some experience…”
“I do yeah…but…”
“But what?” he asked, a hint of interrogation in his voice.
“Well, I was thinking more like a coffee shop or delivering pamphlets or something. Not working nights with drunks…”
“Oh, but we’re friendly drunks. Plus, the regulars tip well,” he pushed. “You can spend the days working on the house and then do a few evenings here until you move on. It’s perfect”.
You frowned. It was pretty perfect, actually. You thought about protesting, but as you looked back at Bucky’s expression you immediately understood that this was someone who was very used to getting his own way.
“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?” you asked.
“Nope” he responded, popping the ‘p’ and shaking his head.
You sighed, chewing your lip with hesitation.
“Will your club mind? I mean…they don’t know me. All they know is I yelled at one of them”.
“Eh. Everyone yells at Parker”, he shrugged. “You’ll fit right in”.
You frowned, then looked back at him suspiciously.
“But…Why are you doing this? You barely know me. I might be a serial killer for all you know…”
He chuckled. “Well, I’ve met a lot of bad guys in my time, Sugar, and trust me, you get pretty good at figuring people out. Plus, I get it, grief is tough, and your grandmother lived here all her life and was a big part of the community. And you’re her family. We do look out for one another here; this is our home after all”.
You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. Your sceptical side half believed he just wanted to get in your pants, but he sounded sincere regardless.
You looked over at his group who were laughing and drinking jovially, then across the room at the wide range of clientele. You’d certainly had worked at worse places.
Sighing, you turned back to Bucky. “Well…fine. Let’s do it. But I’m not wearing booty shorts or anything ridiculous for a uniform”.
This coaxed a belly laugh from him. “No…only the male bartenders wear those,” he quipped. “Jeans and tees are fine. Maybe a flannel if you really wanna mix it up”.
You nodded. “Okay, I can do that”.
He smiled back at you sweetly, but a hint of something edgier lay beneath. The way he eyed you made you feel…exposed. Like you were a doe caught in the crosshairs. It wasn’t unpleasant, no, in fact it made your lower belly surge, sending a wave of butterflies through you.
“Welcome aboard, Sugar” he grinned.
You smiled back, once again knowing full well you were treading into dangerous territory...but unable to stop yourself.
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placeinthisworld · 2 days
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ttpdta review part one 🤠
let me preface this by stating that i am a swiftie first and person second in this situation. i have grown up with taylor and feel as if shes my big sister- yes i can make fun of her but if i see anyone else do it i will get fiercely protective. i do understand her music is not only art but also her form of therapy. that being said, throughout these nonsense notes i am constantly mentioning that taylor should go to therapy. i am aware of what she has said about therapy (and why she doesn’t go) but i would beg to differ with her…especially after this album release lol.
taylor is an extraordinary storyteller and song writer. i believe this album is full of evidence of that, but it also has some faults that prevent from being as good as i felt like it could have been. overall the album feels rushed.
i also feel like it’s important to recognize the elephant in the room. i know we probably all expected this to be a joe breakup album, so the fact that it turned out to be a “fuck you matty healy” album shook us all a little bit. i know matty had a controversial history, im not gonna sit here and defend him. i don’t know much about him other than what is forced against my will. i do however know that he struggles with mental health issues/ substance abuse/ addiction. i’m not gonna comment much about his personal issues, i don’t feel like that’s right and taylor’s constant references to drugs throughout ttpd definitely rubs me the wrong way. i should also mention i grew up with an active addict and do view things from that perspective, so i feel slightly triggered by the topic and my feelings about that may just be personal but i do mention that in my notes when it’s relevant.
lastly, i am not a music production girlie idk shit lol. i only know i am a aaron dessner stan so any song with his name im already biased towards and i am aware, if u don’t like that idk what to tell u lol. i just know what i feel like is “good” or “bad” but music is subjective🫶🏻
1. Fortnight:
Hate the functional alcoholic part. Like the beat, the chorus is catchy. One thing i love about a taylor swift song is that theres always a story and its always visual. I like the metaphor of the “good neighbors” of like having this teasing/ longing feeling for someone that you could have had a life with. “Your wife waters flowers/ i want to kill her + my husbands cheating/ i want to kill him” feeling like you were robbed of her life, feeling “all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february” reminiscing about the short period of time where you were together and convinced it would last forever (only for it to end before it even started). I do not listen to much post malone but i enjoyed his verse!! So many florida references we get it everything bad happens in florida.
i have not seen the video yet oooopsies
2. Ttpd:
i thought this was the opening of Hey Stephen (the remix) or something at first. gotta say i absolutely love the way she sings “you left your typewriter at my apartment/ straight from the tortured poets department” i enjoyed the vibe of this song, and lyrics up until the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate (OKAY SOOOOOOO ME CODED NGL I LAUGHED at this point i could let this lyric slide- bit then she had to mention the charlie puth and golden retriever thing and ngl it almost ruins the song entirely for me. Tbh when i first listened to the leak i thought this was a fake AI song and that i was sending around a fake leak bc these lyrics started to get a little weird to me. ‘Sometimes i wonder if youre gonna screw this up with me/ but you told lucy you’d kill yourself if i ever leave” …………girl i am begging you to see a therapist (side note did anyone else have a friend in hs whos bf would say that shit a lot?? I remember straight up fighting with a friend who refused to break up w her bf bc he would threaten to end his own life is she did and he was like 16? If an adult is saying that same shit i would be Very concerned not gossiping about it???) “i chose this cyclone with you” my first reaction was: ride the cyclone the musical? Overall i liked the first half but you lost me at charlie puth (hes the one with eyebrow right? I think i get him and miles teller mixed up) (i dont know who either of these men are)
3. My boy only breaks his favorite things:
Okay tbh i thought this was gonna be one of my least favorites, but the total opposite happened. I think this is one of my top 5 favorites on this album. I do think that there is a difference between a poem and a song and that they are not always interchangeable. I feel like if this was edited into a poem it would be KILLER. The visuals, the the story, the vocabulary, the sadness in it. “Im queen of sandcastles he destroys/ There was danger in the heat of my touch/ once i fix me/ hes gonna miss me/ i felt more when we played pretend then with all the kens / cause he took me out of my box” i feel like ever since folklore, taylors been trying to push these big fancy words and sometimes it feels awkward and forced, but this is one of the rare songs that doesn't suffer from that.
4. Down bad:
meh. Chorus is catchy. I dont love the narrative “fuck it if i cant have him/ i might just it would make no difference” but i also have never once experienced that over a person before lmao……….taylor go to therapy. Nothing really stands out about this to me otherwise. No offense, but it sounds like a generic jack antonoff song lol. Like maybe if another artist released this, i would enjoy it more but idk i wouldnt expect it from taylor i guess. Just kinda feels boring to me sorry if u enjoy it <3
5. So long, london:
oh man were done with british men now for real for real. “ two graves one gun. I'll find someone” its over for joe and matty (but thats fine if all she has to say about joe is what i think she said on this album i am happy i think We Get It…) Aaron dessner i love u (remember when he reposted me on his ig ahh).”i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift/ pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” + “I stopped trying to make him laugh/ stopped trying to drill the safe/ i didnt opt in to be our odd man out/ im pissed off you let me give you all of that youth for free” oof i FELT that one a LITTLE too hard. I think this is both a song about matty and joe- i think she had a life and an attachment to london just in general through both relationships, “im just mad as hell because i loved this place” and so reflecting back on how both are over and how all those plans with either are done. “You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days” OKAY kinda hate this phrase bc it feels like shes placing blame on whomever’s mental health/ depression, like as if they made the conscious decision to sacrifice the relationship solely. This very much feels like “how much sadness did you think i could take before i got bored???” overall top favorite songs bc it doesnt have too many cringey or odd lyrics and the production is 10/10 thank u aaron dessner ilysm king
6. But daddy i love him:
tbh when i got the leak this was the first song i listened to bc i thought it was gonna be the worst one and i wanted to get it over with (i was RIGHT until she dropped that second half……..) and i DIDNT have the lyrics obviously so i couldnt for the life of me figure out if she really said “im having his baby…..NO IM NOT!” until the VERY end of the song and bro…….the cringe. The cringe. The cringe. This is also when i started to question if this was real or if i was passing out a fake leak, lol. I dont understand how she could be saying this shit about matty. And like we all know it lol. “Sometimes growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all” …….but like does it??? I feel like thats kinda an oxymoron or something like i understand what shes trying to say and MOST of the time her metaphors and comparisons make sense to me but like this one doesnt. Growing up precocious means to grow up more advanced in maturity, how would that also mean not growing up at all? Is it just me getting stoned and overthinking things? “Ill tell you something about my good name/ its mine alone to disgrace” true that bestie ur doin a great job by being so politically quiet over the past couple of yeats after making a whole asss documentary about wanting to be on the right side of history. But I digress i am just one of those bitches performing soliloquies you'll never see. Overall this song is very weird and cringey imo and i wish it stayed in whatever vault it was sitting in lol.
7.Fresh out of the slammer: “In the shade of how he was feeling” -_- dont like this narrative already. I could honestly go on a rant about why i dont like this song but im going to spare for the sake of my sanity in this review of thirty one fucking songs but its along these lines “to the one who says im the girl of his american dreams” oh brother. otherwise i dont care for many of the lyrics, the chorus/ melody/vibe is mid i guess. It sounds like another jack song (i was right)
8. Florida!!!: “all my friends smell like weed or little babies” okay i know what she was trying to say but im SORRY you cant tell me she couldnt think of ANY other way to say her friends are either parents partiers lmao. Deserves jail for that but luckily the vibe and the chorus of the song are really catchy and florence’s voice is beautiful in it. “Well me and my ghost we had a hell of a time/ yes im haunted but im feeling just fine” CHILLS i loved it. I didnt think i would like this song but (maybe as much as i like no body, no crime which is meh) but no i lowkey love this song and think its really fun. Once again the drug references start to get heavy here in the album and like i mentioned i do get slightly triggered by drug mentions.
9. Guilty as sin?:
okay taylor we get it you masterbate. Another strong jack song and it’s pretty similar to others on the album so nothing besides the sexual lyrics stand out.
10. Whos afraid of little old me?:
“if you wanted me dead you should have just said/ nothing makes me feel more alive” ooooooooooh i love that. I feel like a live or an acoustic version of this song would give me CHILLS. “Is it a wonder i broke / lets hear one more joke/ then we can all laugh until i cry” honestly so relatable, “i was tame, i was gentle til the circus life made me mean” oh :( that hurt bc it just reminds me of the vibe shift during midnights era/ eras tour where it *feels* like she started to pull back from being taylor swift and started to become Taylor Swift (™) and the way her fans/ media has treated her made her mean or cold or something and that just makes me feel sad. “Whos afraid of little old me? You caged me and then you called me crazy! I am what i am cause you trained me! SO. WHOS. AFRAID. OF ME? Again the narcotics line kinda makes me feel icky but thats bc i have that thing about drugs and just dont LOVE all the references to them. Like i know its not that serious but theres a reason why i dont seek out artists that typically talk or write about that stuff ya know so its weird. Overall i think the production is one of the most unique ones on this part of the album.
11. I can fix him (no really i can):
i hate it all around i think. I hate the narrative of “i can fix him!! I can handle a dangerous man!!! No really i can!!!” there is a reason why this song is barely 3 mins long lol it should have been cut but i think taylor wanted to Be Edgy. i dont care for the productions or the lyrics, its very forgetful imo.
12. Loml:
okay i really thought this was gonna be a joe song (rip) so i was thinking it was gonna be really deep and sad and like it IS but with the context of it being the pt 2 fling with matty it doesnt seem like it now. Anyone who thinks this is not about matty please look at the lyrics and be so serious “whos gonna stop us from waltzing back into reklndled flames/ if we know the steps anyway” I think matty just said too much shit to taylor during their fling and taylor WAS truly convinced this her invisible string and he promised her a lot that he couldnt upkeep and ghosted her and she took it SUPER hard, i mean two breakups in one year is a lot (me, whos never been through a single breakup once). I just dont understand how she feels like matty is the greatest loss of her life. One of my favorite tracks on the album, “our field of dreams engulfed in fire/ your arsons match your somber eyes” a LOT of these lyrics are actually really good imo. I think im the only one that didnt find the “mr. steal your girl and make her cry” line idk i thought it was actually kinda neat, the phrasing of it, kinda contradicts the title “love of my life” because he was never that serious or respectful of her and only use her from the beginning. This is another song that i think would make KILLER poem over song. Overall i think the piano is haunting and a live version of this will make me die, thank u again aaron dessner 10/10
13. I can do it with a broken heart:
ngl i thought this was the opening to mastermind for a hot second- also gave me a scare on whether or not this was a fake leak lol. Catchy ass chorus but very YOYOK. “Breaking down i hit the floor/ All the pieces of me shattered/ as the crowd was shouting “more!” ooffffffff seeeeee that is exactly WHAT i was afraid she was feeling durning the eras tour after the joe breakup/ matty situation and all these stupid twitter and tik tok swiffers were out here overanalyzing EVERYTHING and demanding rep tv like every other day. “Im so depressed i act like its my birthday” …….okay taylor. Like a lot of people have said, i think she interchanges “depressed” for “sad” a lot and the two are not the same. I think taylor wrote this song (but specifically the “i cry a lot time but i am so productive” and was like “yup this part is gonna go viral on tik tok,” initially i wrote “feels like taylor saw that depression barbie commercial in barbie 2023 and wrote a song based on that” lol which i still agree with. Overall the production of this screams midnights reject lol, very jack antonoff. Over time this song has grown on me a lot. Originally i didnt care for it but now its kind of a bop but i think its bc its so similar to YOYOK. “Try and come for my job” @taylorswift deadass you couldn’t think of anything else to say instead. cmon. I was mostly on board until that very last part, just seemed very cheesy lol like its not a big deal but i thought it delivered well without it.
14. The smallest man who ever lived:
(aaron thank u for saving me and this entire album) “they just ghosted you/ now you know what it feels like” OUCH. “i dont even want you back i just want you to know/ if rusting my sparkling was the goal/ and i dont miss what we had but can someone give/ a message to the smallest man who ever lived” oh this was somber af. I am obsessed with the phrasing of the chorus. I also LOVE taylors deeper voice its def giving me the same feelings MTR gave me from folklore, that made me CRY and this was very similar. This is another classic taylor song that i could EASILY write like a ten page essay about if someone put a gun to my head. I know that its about a *romantic* relationship, but it feels general enough to be able to relate to anyone who is close to someone with an addiction or struggles with substances. A lot of addicts dont understand the impact of their addiction or their behaviors that they display while struggling. To meeeeee, this feels very much like “you were self centered and betrayed my trust, was any of this true? Real? Am i paranoid or is this that deep?” “it wasnt sexy once it wasnt forbidden” has me thinking lots of things. I think that describes taylors “type”if that makes sense? Like i said i would need to literally break this song down line by line like its ridiculous i have too many thoughts about this song i have listened to it on repeat six times by the time im typing this. “In public showed me off/ then sank in stoned oblivion” FUCK. “you treat her like an also-ran” honestly i have never heard of that phrase/word thank u dr. swift. “Were you sent by someone who wanted me DEAD/ did you sleep with a GUN underneath OUR BED/ were you writing a BOOK?/ were you a sleeper cell SPY? IN 5O YEARS WILL THIS BE ALL DECLASSIFIED?/ AND YOU’LL CONFESS WHY YOU DID IT!/ AND ILL SAY GOOD RIDDANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” tears were formed besties. Also love the gracie abrams reference. “And you deserve prison but you wont get time” i feel like is very metaphorical like you DESERVE to be punished for what you did to me but you won’t admit to the guilt, you wont admit your wrongdoings, you wont admit that i would have done anything for you and you have no problem replacing me. “You said normal girls were boring/ but you were gone by the morning” first of all red flag girlie, nonetheless heartbreaking. “And in plain sight you hid/ but you are what you did” i say this with all the love in my heart, someone take taylor swift to a really good really private therapist. I could say more but i think i need to move on because i am now on my eighth cyle of listening to this song.
15. The alchemy:
already kinda hate it. “What if i told you im back/ the hospital was a drag/ worst sleep i ever had” do you think taylor swift has ever been admitted to a real hospital in this context. Feels very out of place and like i said earlier i dont love the psych ward visuals/ references she keeps inserting in this album. “He jokes its heroin but this time with an e” thanks! I fucking hate that line so much. Feels very icky, not funny. I get what shes going for but it falls so flat for me. The football references (yall know my opinion on meathead!!!!!!!! I will not engage!!!) are fucking dumb. Production is kinda lame and uninterested. Will only listen to this song if by force and will not repeat it ive head enough lets move on.
i have Lots Of Thoughts. i don’t think anyone cares about what i have to say though so i don’t think i’ll bother posting the rest lol but i did do a lot of work so ill post just a bit to make myself feel better.
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doomsday-dj · 1 hour
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Yo. Bestie. Do you have any Rizzles author recommendations for me??
You have cruelly seduced me into this teeny-tiny-weeny fandom and now I have galloped my way through (almost) all of your brilliant body of work I am cast adrift and quickly finding out that "sort by kudos" simply does not bring up the goods here...
Help a gay out?
Oh fuck yeah, bestie. Yes. Do I ever!! I am about to WEAR OUT the link function. But before the recommendations: aw shucks and thank you and all that. Your comments this week have been a highlight. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this but hopefully this post makes up for it! I've been dabbling in some other fandoms lately, ones with a LOT of fics, and there's a lot of great writers out there, but I have to say that especially relative to how many fics there are, there's an outrageous amount of good writers who have written Rizzles.
Okay! So disclaimer that I’ve had a really ungodly amount of coffee today so if this is a little on the “un” side of hinged then I apologize. I am definitely gonna be REAL effusive. I was silly and shy about leaving comments and kudos when I first got on AO3 and now I make up for those crimes by being unabashedly keen.
I have gone and sorted by kudos (and, sidenote, discovered that I'm in the top 30????) and before I get to the under-appreciated bangers, I will say that plenty of my faves feature in the first two pages of sort by kudos (though their most kudosed work is almost never my fave one). Here I’m thinking of coolbyrne, @julieverne, DanteBeatrice77. All of these authors are awesome.
Also, amongst the highly kudosed works, Attachment by @performativezippers is a classic for in the fandom for good reason (and their Bachelor AU is a romp) and law of the lever by sharkfights is one of my favourites all time.
As for the other stuff, what do you WANT out of your fic, bestie?
You want the feelings? You want the beautifully written feelings? @ladyriot has got feelings FOR DAYS. If you want some one shots that will take you apart and put you back together, you’ve come to the right place. Good feelings, angsty feelings, all the feelings you need. My favourite is Let Our Hands Tell the Story but I recommend all of them. Mostly it's one shots but the one complete multi-chapter fic, Transference, is CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. Less than 200 kudos?! Fuck all the way off. I don’t know if it’s because it’s an AU or if it’s because of the doctor/patient element but unless that’s a trigger, I promise you it it’s handled very artfully and also it’s fucking fiction and no patient’s rights were violated in the making of this fic. Oh and put your ink on my skin 'til it comes off on me is both devastating and stupid hot.
Haven’t had enough feelings?? Take your insufficiently battered heart over to @sideadde’s work. I especially like Who Needs Two Kidneys When Another Heart Can Be Had? and Immersion Therapy.
You want a big meaty casefic you can sink your teeth into?? Domini_porter’s CMYK is so goddamn good. The smutty chapters in this one are just...chef's kiss. Among my favourites all time. I am also entirely obsessed with their Victorian AU, which deserves more attention. Also if you want some crack-your-chest-open-and-pull-out-your-guts angst go alllll the way back to their first fics on AO3.
OH. @kurtsvonneslut too. I think and you cooled my mind that burned with longing is probably my favourite post-finale type fic, bit of an AU with some major canon changes. They also have an excellent picking-up-from-the-Jane-and-Maura-season-2/3-break-up casefic, A Crime of Passion, and they wrote a devastating exploration of PTSD that just...oooof.
God, I could really just keep going and going. And this is just on AO3!!! I feel like I could do a whole part two of this that's just flagging all the best stuff that's back on ff.net. I might have to because this is already really long. But I'm stopping for now. Thanks for the BEST ASK.
*dramatic stage whisper* psssst do you want smut? I feel like I could also do a whole post on smut alone. Maybe later.
Note: I’ve tagged authors if their tumblr name is the same as their ao3 name, because I assume they’re okay with being found. If any of you would like to be untagged from the post just DM me and I’ll do that lickety split.
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puppyeared · 1 year
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Xīn Yá and @crow-cap ‘s Little Sailor
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colors-of-my-heart · 5 months
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i really hope ghost wins the Grammy for best metal performance, not because I think they deserve it more than the other nominees but because it would piss off a lot of metalheads and I think that would be really funny
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Man it’s so annoying that I like my job bc the job itself is like fine or whatever but I really do love the people
#not to get on tumblr everyday to post about my job and type out this tag like every day but here we r again#like my friend and I went out for ice cream after work and I drive her home every night and it’s so fun#like I’ll keep in touch with her I’m not worried about falling out of contact with her#but like. she is the only person who I talk to outside of work#and like a lot of my coworkers who I really like r like. definitely in their 60s. I’m not gonna be like omg bestie what’s ur snap?#first of all I don’t use Snapchat second of all I am not that friendly third of all like. what would I even have to say#i am a terrible texter. i have nothing to say ever. I don’t know why but I am just so very boring to text I’ve got nothing to say#but yeah I’m sad that I’m gonna miss these people#my last day is the 19th :(#i am a little curious if they’ll do anything bc they usually host little goodbye parties for people who leave#and I am well liked. I’m gonna be so sad when I leave#I’ll be back every few weeks like hi you missed me a ton right? I’m here for the weekend. yes I do live across the country. don’t even worry#i have 2 favorite people there. ones my friend who I talk to a lot and the other is one of the waitresses but I won’t probably talk to her#which means like I’m gonna definitely miss her a ton and she’s already made a few comments like oh I’m gonna miss you so much when you leave#like man. catch me crying on my last day#god this is why I can’t deal with people being so nice to me bc then I’m gonna miss them!! like come on say one hurtful thing please#well actually no I think I’m sad enough as is but like. some people r just so nice. and it’s like bestie please I’m getting attached#soup talks
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pellelavellan-a · 2 years
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Just one time I would like to leave my house without being misgendered by someone and then spending the rest of my time out feeling very self conscious that I look like a girl when I wasn’t even thinking about that when I left the house i just got dressed and left
Anyways have a photo of a dumpster i saw walking
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saetoru · 7 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil
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synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all
FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES
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length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)
contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)
notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3
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the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.
“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”
“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”
“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”
“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”
you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.
“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”
“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”
“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”
“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.
well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.
“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”
“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”
“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”
“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”
he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”
“we didn’t get this room.”
oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.
“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”
“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.
the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.
“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”
“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”
his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.
“no, absolutely not—”
“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.
god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.
it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.
and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.
“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”
“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”
you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 
“satoru—”
“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 
so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.
“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 
“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”
“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.
“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 
“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 
“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”
“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”
“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”
his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 
“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.
“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 
so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 
satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”
“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 
“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”
“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”
“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”
that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 
they just always want more.
there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 
the way the world works. 
the way you and satoru work. 
so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 
“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”
that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 
you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.
“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”
“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”
“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”
“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”
“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”
“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”
that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”
“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 
he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 
“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”
“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”
“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”
you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 
“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 
“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”
you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 
his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!
“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”
“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”
you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.
“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.
the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 
it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.
“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”
“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”
“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”
“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”
“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”
you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.
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i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach
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tonycries · 5 days
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Give Me Tough Love
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Synopsis. What happens when your boyfriend just so happens to be mad at you? Well, your poor pússy might just know the answer.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, brat-taming, angry séx, oral (male + female receiving), víbrators (Nanami’s), manhandling, unprotected, spanking (Sukuna’s), thigh-riding, intercrural, mentions of Higuruma and Shiu, cúmplay, bunch of heinous stuff idek, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.2k
A/N. Smh I’m sick, try not to catch my virtual cold.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Dirty mouth? He’ll fix it.
“The fuck did you just say to me?” he spits, Toji’s hand tightening around your throat, pathetic little gurgles going straight to his cock. “Because I know you aren’t talking back to me like a lil’ slut unless you want to be treated like one.”
“T-Toji m’sorry- mpfh-” Greedily taking in the way your your mouth drops into a soft little oh! as he grazes his fat tip across your lips, glossing your lips so fucking filthily with his precum, all pretty and dripping down to your chin. Hot and angry, and at perfect eye-level for you.
 Hand moving up to pry your swollen mouth open, “You’re only sorry cuz yer gonna get what you’ve been askin’ for, doll.” 
You’d been extra mouthy with him today, all sass and snipey comments like you just wanted this to happen. And it only took one offhand remark about how Shiu probably lasts longer in bed before Toji’s pushing you onto your knees, hand at your throat, breath hot against your ear. And, well, that smart mouth can do nothing but beg for mercy now.
Toji scoffs, snapping you out of your daze, “Nothin’ to say now, huh?” edging his hips closer “Open wide f’me now, yeah- jus’ like that- m’gonna clean out this dirty lil’ mouth of yours. Hngh-”
And with that Toji’s stuffing himself into your mouth. A raw little grunt leaving the back of his throat as your lips stretch so sinfully around his thick cock, and if he angled his head just right he could see the way your throat was bulging and full of him. “Shit, doll. Look at you struggling to take me.”
And Toji’s so mean - not even easing you into it before he’s thrusting in harsh, quick little strokes into your heavenly mouth. “Hah- Hard to take me all?” he taunts, loving the way you’re choking and gagging all around him. 
Pulling you down on his swollen cock till your nose is pressed against those tufts of black hair at his base. So wet with precum and spit. “Shouldn’t be, no? Ngh- A lil’ slut with such a fucking filthy mouth like you should take me s’easily.”
All he gets in response is a low, wet moan, muffled around his cock. One that goes straight to his twitching balls. Smacking your chin with each thrust, so hard he’s sure it hurts. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, chuckling, “Heh, forgot you can’t speak with m’dick lodged in your throat, huh?”
And oh Toji almost considers going easy on you at the messy state of your mascara, and the way you bat your lashes tearily up at him. It’s only when you flick your tongue so sluttily underneath his sensitive tip in a way you knew would drive him wild that all thoughts of that go out the window. “So you like this, huh?”
Voice so low and dangerous it makes your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? You don’t even know because Toji has his hand wrapped around your throat again, hip stuttering filthily. 
And then it’s like something snaps because Toji’s ruining your pretty face. Abs flexing as he drags your head up and down up and down up and- like some toy. God, he thinks, it’s fucking hard to look at you too - so sloppy with the way precum and spit was dribbling down the corner of your mouth, his dick bulging in and out of your throat. In and out in and out in and- 
“Might let out a few tears, but I know that slutty lil’ cunt of yours has never been wetter.”
Reaching blindly to feel for his phone, he punches in that familiar contact. Cock twitching inside your plushy mouth at the way your eyes widen in surprise. Sputtering around his dick - but you can’t run away, because Toji has a hand firm on your head, pushing you down. Still fucking your pretty lil’ mouth while the line rings once. Twice. 
“Don’t act so suprised, doll. All Shiu and I are gonna do is fuck some manners into you.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Karma’s a bitch
“Mhm, yes, Higuruma. I’ve told the supervisor to email me the documents. Oh? In the background?” 
His darkened eyes sweep your figure - wrists tied, soaking through your panties, swollen lips falling into a little oh! at the bullet vibrator buzzing maddeningly in your dripping cunt. All controlled by the man himself, watching you like a hawk from the corner of the bedroom. “Must be the wind.” 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
“Kento- please, wan’ cum. Ngh-” you whine pathetically. But it all falls on deaf ears, because Nanami only manspreads further on the armchair, a long finger unhurriedly coming up to signal you to be quiet as he continues on his business call. 
Intensity setting 1.
Oh you could just cry. How did you even get here? 
All you did was send him a few photos in his favorite lingerie while he was at work - who knew that Nanami would end up clocking early, coming straight home to absolutely fucking ruin you for that little stunt that had him sporting a rock-hard boner all through an important meeting. 
“A voice? Ah, yes.” and that snaps you out of your little reverie. You blink at the flash of amusement in Nanami’s eyes as he continues the call. “Yes, a little fight as all couples have. Y’know how it is.”
Intensity setting 2.
You jolt at the stimulation, body jerking up for some - any - friction. “Kento~” you choke, tears clinging to your eyes now. 
But oh where Nanami was usually gentle touches and sweet, sweet love - he was so fucking mean now. Licking his lips at the slick dribbling down your legs so sloppilly, spreading in such an obscene pool on the sheets below. Frustrated tears cling to your lashes - you just wanted to fucking cum. 
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say she’s mad at me.”
Intensity setting 3.
No, you were fucking losing your mind. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt- Blinking tearily at Nanami as his thumb draws quick, relentless little circles on the intensity. The vibrator throbbing against your walls in time with your quivering walls, just grazing that one spot. But purposefully avoiding it so that he could see you fall apart and all desperate. 
He sighs, “I know, I have to make it up to her, right?”
Intensity setting 4.
“You have any ideas, Higuruma? Flowers?” 
“Hngh- Kento- Please, wan’ your cock.” Gritting your teeth so that you won’t just scream or outright demand that Nanami ends the call and makes you cum right now, you settling for low, needy little whimpers of his name. Whiney in just the way you knew he liked. And by the looks of the painfully hard cock straining against his trousers, you knew it was working. 
“Or, chocolates?” 
Maybe it was working too well because Nanami’s amping up his abuse on your cunt. Devouring the way you’re reacting so sensitively to the way he was turning the vibrations up and down. Swollen cock twitching at the wet gasps leaving your mouth, thighs twitching and squeezing together so sluttily to get yourself off. 
“Yeah, you’re right.” you blink away the tears in your eyes to risk a glimpse at the man currently driving you wild. Irritation spiking at the way he was huffing out a laugh, “I could just make her cum hard enough to see stars. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Intensity setting 5.
Your orgasm takes you by surprise - violent and fast. The last thing you see is the cruel little smirk curling Nanami’s lips before he’s setting the phone down with a quick goodbye. And then it’s all stars behind your eyelids as you finally cum, not even caring if whoever’s on the phone hears the strangled yelp of “Ah! Kento, m’cumming m’- hah-”
And it’s all you can do to ride your high out on the vibrations still stimulating your sore cunt. So sensitive and maddening that you almost miss the metallic clinking of a belt.
Ringing in the heady air, the complete opposite of the voice to suddenly very close against your ear, low and hoarse with desire, “Now, think it’s time for me to make it up to you. Hm, sweetheart?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Work for it!
“Get off on m’thigh, or you’re not getting off at all.”
Geto’s had enough of the cold shoulder today before he decides you’re getting one too - even when you’re needy and sat so prettily on his lap. It was only fair, right? Which is why he swats away the hand reaching for his aching cock, angry and throbbing in his fist. Twitching in his hand at the adorable little pout playing on your lips, “Nuh uh, bad girls don’t get what they ask for.”
“But Sugu~” you whine, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. “Already said I was sorry-”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it for that attitude you were givin’ me earlier, gorgeous.” he cuts you off, leaning back comfortably on the chair. Smirk only widening at the way your eyes were so deliriously locked on the way his fist starts moving in slow, languid little strokes up and down his swollen cock. “Now, y’gonna fuck that pretty lil’ cunt on my thigh or just watch? S’fine f’me either way.”
You huff at the way he was being so mean - letting a beat of silent staredown pass. One. Two. Cunt so achingly wet and dripping all over where you straddled Geto’s muscular thigh.
“Fine.”
You feel so dirty dragging your pussy all over his thigh like some bitch in heat. Your clit pressing down on his skin hard. “Sugu!” you yelp, hands reaching up to play with your sensitive nipples, still rocking your hips sloppily. 
Fuck does he love your little show - and you can see it too. Catching the way his balls squeeze painfully, brows furrowing and locked on the way your folds were spread apart so sluttily. 
“All that talk but look at y’now.” he hums. And Geto knows he’s supposed to be punishing you, but he can’t stop the way he starts bouncing his leg to meet your grinds. “What’ve ya gotta say for yourself now, my lil’ slut?” 
“M’sorry!” you whine, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself as he fucks you on his thigh. So hot and messy. His skin glistening in the dim light with all your sweet sweet juices, trailing down to the cushion below and pooling at his heavy balls. And Geto was such a fucking picture - hair falling over his shoulders, bottom lip bitten, cock so long and mouthwateringly hard, flushed your favorite shade of pink at the tip.
Only bouncing his leg faster at your cute lil’ whines, like he was turning you into his slut - hit stupid lil’ slut. And all you can sputter out are strained little “M’sorry m’sorry jus’ lemme touch you. Wanna touch you-”
He cuts you off with a desperate, desperate kiss. A permission. A surrender. And you taste the sin and the satisfied little grin on his lips as you reach for his heavy cock. Drinking in the low hiss at the back of Geto’s throat as you start stroking him in quick, desperate tugs. 
And he lets you. 
Hips bucking to chase the feeling of your soft hand wrapped so deliciously around his throbbing cock. Faster. Your nails delicately tracing the pulsing veins along the side, swirling under his slit because shit you might act like it’s a punishment but you’ve never been wetter. “Fuck this hand was made f’me, you were made f’me.”
Previous anger forgotten - perhaps in some miraculous act of mercy - Geto couldn’t even care less if it was all sloppy, mindless little tugs and grinds, high off of your desperation. In fact, Geto wasn’t any better with the way he was snaking a hand down to draw steady, lazy little circles on your swollen lips.
Whispering against your lips, “Make us cum within the next five seconds or you’re going back to getting off on my thigh and nothing else.” Oh. Not an act of mercy.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Evil twin
“Sorry-” he’s murmuring into your neck, lifting your leg just a little bit higher to slide his cock messily between your swollen folds. “Ngh- sorry, baby. Fuck.”
Choso can’t even remember why he’s pissed off - or that useless little argument that led to this - but when Choso’s angry, it’s like he flips a switch. Such a silent tease where he’s usually all lingering kisses and everything you could ever want. 
Which is why he’s got you splayed out on your side, angry, red tip kissing your entrance in a way that was so filthy. 
“Cho, jus’ gimme your cock.” You arch your back, rubbing so deliciously against his abs, flexing with the strain to not just plunge into your pretty lil’ cunt right now. “Jus’ want you inside me. Please?” And shit Choso must be really pissed off because he doesn’t waver even at the way you bat your lashes at him, instead resorting to leaning down and kissing that adorable pout off your lips. 
He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging ever-so-slightly as he starts sliding his cock inbetween your pretty thighs. Creating such a sticky mess as he moves in slow, shallow little thrusts - Choso was always so sloppy. And such a fucking tease as he angles his hips to just graze your swollen clit.
You gasp into his open mouth, mewling out a strained lil’ “Ah! W-wait what’re you doi-”
“Fucking getting myself off, what does it look like doll?”
Fuck, he was really mad. But that doesn’t stop you from craning your neck to glare at him - eyes traitorously drinking in his flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, stray strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead while he meets your gaze head-on. Unwavering. 
“Bit rude to get off by yourself, huh?” you scoff, raising a brow at the slow smirk curling his lips. 
“You’d know a lot about being rude, huh?”
You don’t even have the time to react to his sheer audacity because Choso’s snaking down a hand to toy with your swollen clit. Still rocking his hips between your thighs. Loving the way all you can do is buck into his touch and whine so prettily as he rolls the sensitive bud between two long fingers. “But since I’m so fuckin’ nice, you better thank me, baby.”
“Y’like this?” he hums hoarsely, playing with your needy clit. Index circling your hole, just barely dipping in before he’s swiftly moving back to rub delicate patterns on the bud. “Could’ve gotten more if you hadn’t run that pretty lil’ mouth earlier.” 
“B-but I want more.” you’re babbling deliriously, trying to meet his relentless little rhythm on your cunt. Just wishing that he would fuck you like you wanted him to. But no - not yet.
“More? You think you deserve more?”
“Yes!” and it sounds like a sob that goes straight to his cock. “Wan’ more please. Was wrong- ah- I was wrong-”
Choso isn’t even sure if you remember what you two were fighting about, but that doesn’t stop him from having such fun bullying you - high off the power and the way your cunt tries to clench around his fingers. And especially your little surrender. 
“Exactly what I was waitin’ for.”
It’s like something snapped because Choso’s bullying his fingers in between your folds, curling deftly against that one gummy spot he knows will have you letting out such cute lil’ whines. Hitting that spot over and over as he pumps his fingers in and out of your cunt. Letting you soak him in all your sweet juices.
And you’re so sensitive and needy that all that spills from your lips are mewls of, “Oh- hngh- Choso Choso- yes, jus’ like that. Faster.”
Maybe for the first time tonight, Choso listens. Movements getting so sloppy and frantic as he chases your high. And occasionally you get such a delicious taste of his throbbing cock as his hips get erratic, fucking himself on your thighs.
You cum with a strangled gasp of Choso’s name, hips bucking wildly. White-hot pleasure running down your spine, and your blood roaring in your ears. It’s all you can do to milk his fingers the way you would with his cock as you ride out your high. 
But luckily for you, you feel his weeping tip nudging your quivering hole. So heavy, precum mixing with your slick in such a sinful combination.  Breath hot against your ear as he whispers a quiet little, “Actually, m’really fucking not sorry.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Plaything!
“Fuckin’” he kisses his teeth, hand raising up, up, up - coming down swiftly- Smack! “Brat.”
“Oh- Hngh p-please.” you gasp, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Nails digging into his shoulders for some - any - mercy from where you’re sat prettily on his lap, throbbing cock stuffed in your cunt. Hard and aching. Yet still unmoving. 
Thumb drawing lazy little circles on your clit, fast enough to have your thighs quivering on his lap, but slow enough to not give you exactly what you want - he’s been teasing you for hours now.
“P-pleeease.” he mocks, voice so dramatically whiny, swatting your ass again. Sukuna doesn’t even know why he’s fucking pissed off, he just likes seeing you all teary and letting out such cute lil’ whines, trying to eagerly to please him. Is he being a bully? Yeah. Does it make it cock so painfully hard watching you try to grind your pretty pussy down on his cock? Fuck yeah.
Which is why he watches you desperately try to fuck yourself on his cock, and oh how he loves taking in this heavenly sight. Your cunt spread so shamefully, sloppy and wet enough that you’re dripping all over him.  
His messy girl. It almost makes him want to play nice.
Smack! And that has you keening, pressing your sensitive tits harder against his front. “What do you want, brat?”
Your breath hitches, words shaky, “Want your cock, ‘Kuna-”
But the only response you get is a huffed out dark chuckle. Strong arms spreading your legs even further as Sukuna leans leisurely against the headboard. He scoffs, loving the way you were always the cutest when he played mean. “You already have it in your pretty lil’ cunt, want more could you want?”
“W-wan’ you to fuck me,” a hand trailing down to massage his heavy balls, moving your hips in slutty circles to meet his, milking him inside you. “Wan’ you to fill me up with your cum till m’dumb. Till everyone’s gonna know- Ah- ple-”
Oh how he loved all your dirty little tricks. “Hm, ya really were desperate for my cock, huh?” he grits out, jaw clenched and eyes locked on the way your dripping cunt was swallowing him up so deliciously. Like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him. “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. Ya really that cock-hungry, brat?”
Smack! Speeding up his movements on your clit, your pathetic little sob rings in Sukuna’s ears and goes all the way down to his twitching dick. Massaging your plushy walls just right.
That makes you mewl and buck wildly, slurring out, “Yes! Wan’ed so bad. Wanted to be split a-apart hngh- on yer cock n’ filled to the brim.” 
Fuck, Sukuna bites his lower lip, do you even have any idea what you’re saying?
He doubts it - and he doesn’t give a fuck because before you know it, your hands are pinned behind your back, and Sukuna’s fucking up into you in one, harsh thrust. 
“Said you wan’ my cock, n’ you’re gonna get it brat.”
Messy and desperate as you’re being split apart by his massive cock, starting to ram into you with wreckless abandon. And you can do nothing but take it because Sukuna’s holding you still, arching you impossibly deeper into him.
“Kuna- mm ngh-”
“So cockdrunk that you can’t even speak, huh?” he’s high off of the way your words are a strangled mess. Such a pity you couldn’t do anything else either - with the way he was holding you still. Like some fucktoy from the depths of his treasury. Grip bruising on your arms, only being able to let out such pathetic lil’ ah! ah! ah! against his ear each time his cock hits your bruised cervix. 
“This what my little slut wanted?” His hips are erratic now, fucking any and every thought out of your mind. Hungry gaze appreciatively taking in the way your head was lolling against his shoulder, so cock-drunk and delirious already. “Now, don’t act so fucked out, brat. We’re only getting started.”
Well, he didn’t say he was going to be nice. Now, did he?
♡ GOJO SATORU - Candy for a bad day
“Had a bad day.” It’s all that announces Gojo’s arrival. 
Startled, you whirl his head to catch that an uncharacteristic little sigh, he’s pulling his blindfold down haphazardly, raising his eyes to meet yours and oh-
Fuck, you weren’t going to make it out alive.
And Gojo wasn’t sure whether he would either with the way he was immediately slamming the front door shut, lips searing on yours as he shoves you against the adjacent wall with a soft thud! 
“S-Satoru, what the fuck?” you sputter, head spinning because he was here and then kneeling in front of you so fast you think he might’ve teleported there. Hand groping every inch of you he could reach, thumbing over your hardened nipples. Drawing little circles on your hips as he looks at you through heavy, half-lidded eyes.
You try to talk back some semblance of sanity into him, “Satoru, what happ-”
“Shut up. Those annoying old fuckers always fuckin’ piss me off. Dunno why you fuckin’ made me attend that meeting.” 
Oh. That’s what happened. 
Heaving in a shaky gasp, you let him all but rip off your skirt. Flinging them to God-knows-where with the audacity of a man that would buy you ten new ones to replace it. Gojo’s mouth falls into a soft little oh! at the heavenly sight of your already-soaked panties.  
“Swear m’gonna purple hollow them all one day.” he murmurs into your pretty pussy, tongue darting out to draw lazy patterns along your slit. “Gonna have ‘em begging for their lives.”
Words muffled around the flimsy fabric - ones he rips clean off your hips with one hand. Not even letting you flinch at the cool air before Gojo’s pooling your sweet juices on his fingertips. Staring right in your eyes while he pops them into your mouth, sucking them clean and glistening with saliva in the dim light. 
“Oh.” Eyes rolling to the back of his at the taste of your sweet lil’ cunt. “You always taste s’fucking perfect f’me. Can’t believe you’ve been fucking holdin’ out on me.”
And maybe Gojo loses his patience - maybe his sanity - because one taste, and he’s hooked. Diving face-first into your clothed cunt, breathing in your scent so fucking lewdly.
“F-fuck, Toru-” you whisper breathlessly, gripping those soft white locks for some stability. The only reply you get is Gojo licking long, languid stripes up your swollen folds. Your slick glossing his ruby lips, trailing down his chin. “It feels s’good.”
And he’s so uncharacteristically messy - making out with your sloppy pussy like it’s his last meal. All pure desperation, lips puckering so prettily around your swollen clit as he sucks on it harshly. Rolling his tongue over and over and-
“Hate that you made me go. They drive me crazy, y’know.” he slurs lowly into your sensitive cunt. Vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running up your spine. “Makes me wanna wish I could stay home with you, eating this cute lil’ cunt out all day.” 
“Wha- what nonsense, Toru.”
“Your cunt is addictive, pretty.”
You barely even notice the way that he’s the one holding you up, throwing a leg over his shoulder, looping and arm around your waist to pull you deeper onto this tongue. Close. So close. “Hngh- Toru-”
“Close?” he murmurs, muffled. “Can feel y’clenching around m’tongue, y’know. How am I supposed to tonguefuck my pretty girl if she’s sucking the soul outta me?”
He was such a little tease. Becoming as frantic and sloppy as you - dripping all over the hardwood floor with a maddening tap! tap! tap!
And despite the way he was devouring you - licking all over your pussy, tongue dipping in and out of your slutty hole - Gojo still finds it in himself to run his mouth. Babbling about how he’s gonna destroy the elders all while you’re in shambles above him. 
“Hah- Toru, shit I’m close. M’gonna-”
“Give it to me, my girl. Wanna taste y’on my tongue.”
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes and Gojo’s tongue fucking you through your high as you grind down on his pretty face. Dragging your dripping cunt all over till it’s so messy that it makes your cheeks burn. 
But Gojo doesn’t mind - of course, he doesn’t. In fact, his glossy lips only turn up into a slow, sly smirk as he stands up slowly from the ground.
“C’mon, gotta punish you proper now, princess.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
6K notes · View notes
bonewreath · 1 month
Text
so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?
18+ below! smut smut smut!
ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.
it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?
the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.
but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?
all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.
it’s a video.
you sent her a video.
she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.
“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”
holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.
you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”
and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.
and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.
as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.
“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”
ellie. ellie ellie ellie.
“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.
when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.
“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.
when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.
and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.
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portgasdwrld · 5 months
Text
★ Hickeys
ೃ⁀➷do they suck (lol) at hickeys, giver or receiver?, how? all answered down below by your beloved Tomie✨
ೃ⁀➷Psss this is a head-canon, take it lightly~
ೃ⁀➷ Suggestive, implied f!reader, NSFW language
ೃ⁀➷ monster trio + Law+ Ace
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: ̗̀➛ Luffy
He’s the type to receive them more than to give
When he realizes he has hickeys, he’s just gonna wonder how it’s even possible and if smth hit his neck during a fight💀
Probably gonna bug Chopper about it, until he brushes him off mentioning it’s nothing
Then when you’re making out and you linger on his neck, it clicks into his mind. He yells a « ooohh, It was you! » after realizing that, it surprises you and you almost bit his skin-
He’s down to try it when you explain that you want them on you too
« You want me to suck your skin a little until it bruises? A bit like when you bruise after a fight? »
« Ugh… not the same but you got the spirit? »
He’s dense, but he tried and he didn’t do as bad as you thought
: ̗̀➛ Law
LMAO?? Wouldn’t he be the type to lowkey hit you with a scientific facts that hickeys can kill you if done wrong🤓😭
Ik he would. Im so sorry😮‍💨
On another note, tbh I feel like he’s just sooo into it, when his mind is fogged by lust. He will be making out with you and damn, he’s now leaving wet kisses all over your neck. That itself, just awaken some type of possessive strike and you’re left with hickeys a bit everywhere.
Will quietly eye them when y’all are cuddling after sex. He won’t comment on it beside if you point them out.
“They look great.”
It would be the most reaction you will get out of him. He’s so hot though- intrusive thoughts but they are real 😔
He doesn’t mind at all if you leave some on him fr. Like if it’s done within the right vibe and y’all are just kicking it and you’re riding him or y’all in lotus position, he might even groan and moan a little louder and curse under his breath.
: ̗̀➛ Sanji
Oh his mouth is ALLL OVERR your body. He’s kissing, praising, leaving hickeys all over your body. On you chest, between your thighs, on you collarbone.
He’s almost in a trance while he loves your body and mark it. He’s gotta to enjoy his pretty lover and you bet he’s gonna make it known that you are his and he’s the lucky man who has you!!
He’s so sweet about it, with sweet compliments, but it’s a bit messy too. Wet patches, mumbles from his muffled lips.
He’s SOOOOO down if you wanna do it on him. He gets very excited and can’t stop smiling and touching your body.
“Yes of course I’m down! Wanna try it rn? We got time yk..”
Best boy 🤧
ೃ⁀➷ Zoro
His neck always has some hickeys from you. He thought he hated it, but he quickly got over it and finds it hot now.
He doesn’t care too much if someone stare at them, but he will throw a curse out with a deadpan expression, if someone made a snarky comment.
He also has this possessive strike, so you bet you’re gonna have some type of bruises-hickeys on your body after y’all are done. Because he doesn’t go easy on you, he will be thrusting deep into you, while silencing you with his fingers deep in your mouth. Along with that, his mouth is nibbling on you neck and all your sensitive spots.
It’s an overstimulating mess.
He smirks satisfied when he sees you marked up, moaning his name and completely lost into his touch.
ೃ⁀➷ Ace
Oh, this man here has the biggest possessive strike out of all the men here.
I touched on the subject a little on my NSFW head canon, but he definitely love giving them. He whines when you do, because he’s apparently allergic to shirts and get slightly annoyed when each of his friends on the ship makes some jokes.
He loves that everyone knows you’re his. Because he gets to have one person for him, that actually feels love toward him and someone he can trust??! That’s the life prize!
Every time he fucks you, he makes sure that hickeys are created everywhere on your body.
He will shower you with attention and cocky comments as he sucks on to your skin.
It’s his specialty😮‍💨
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
Text
demonstration
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words: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, reader is toppers girlfriend, struggling to cum, female receiving oral and fingering, multiple orgasms, edging and overstimulation, protected and unprotected sex, cheating
“maybe you could ask one of your friends for help, top.” you pout, rubbing your hand over his shoulder, not wanting him feel any more upset than he needs to be, but at the same time, you’re not sure how much longer this can go on.
“you can't tell me what i can do to fix it?” topper asks.
“you know i was a virgin before you babe, i really don’t know.” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “maybe ask rafe?” “rafe?” topper turns suddenly to look at you. “why him?” “i’ve just… heard talk from some of my friends. he can probably give you some good advice. i don’t know.” you shrug. “maybe it’s something wrong with me.” “no, don’t say that.” topper shakes his head, turning to pull you into him, a hand around your waist.
“you ask your friends and i’ll ask mine.” you give as an option. topper nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hoping the next time you’re in his bedroom, it’ll go a lot better.
--
“what?” rafe gawks at his friend, unsure if he heard him right or if he was going crazy.
“ive never… i’ve never made y/n cum before and i just… i need to know what to do rafe! i’m worried she’s gonna leave me if i can’t get it together and i guess- fuck! i don’t know! just help me out man!” topper paces quickly, bringing his hands to his hair, tugging on it, stressed out of his mind.
“okay, alright, jesus, just clam down!” rafe says, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for topper to sit as well. he’s not sure how long he can keep himself still, already feeling awkward and nervous about not being able to make you cum, only made worse by trying to talk to rafe about it.
“every time i fuck her, i just get so over excited and cum too quickly and i know this is tmi but i just try my best and every time she doesn’t cum and she says its okay but i know it’s really not.” topper blurts out.
“alright, well…” rafe sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. he’s never had this type of issue before with girls. “do you finger her? or eat her out? before you fuck her, i mean.” “i eat her out sometimes.” topper shrugs. “she says my tongue feels good and i can make her cum like that, but not when im fucking her, i just don’t know what to do, i just get so excited and… and i’ve never had this problem with girls before, it’s just y/n.”
“to be fair, she’s hotter than any girl you’ve been with before.” rafe comments. it’s no secret, so he doesn’t feel bad saying it, especially when topper nods.
“she’s way out of my league, thats why i’m sure if i don’t fix this she’s gonna leave me.” topper sighs.
“maybe a demonstration could help?” rafe suggests, making toppers head snap towards him, a look of fury in his eyes.
“you are not allowed to fuck my girlfriend.”
“no, man.” rafe shakes his head. “what if i’m there while you fuck her? then i can give you specifics, and she will know you are really trying. she told you to ask me right?” “yeah, i guess you have a reputation of being really good.” topper cringes at his own words.
“i am. so, let me help you, top. brother to brother.”
--
rafe understands why topper has such a hard time keeping it together as you lay out naked on the bed, eyes flickering between your boyfriend and his best friend, a cautiously optimistic look on your face.
“go ahead and spread your legs.” rafe says, trying to keep his tone even, to disguise the lust that he feels as his eyes move from your breasts down to between your thighs.
“can you get naked first topper? i feel weird here.” topper was shirtless, but still had his shorts and underwear on, even though he was obviously straining against the fabric. 
“yeah.” topper glances briefly to rafe before tugging them down his hips, letting his cock spring free. 
“so have you ever cum before y/n?” rafe asks.
“yeah, um… with my own fingers.” you cough awkwardly. “and when topper eats me out.”
“its really just when i’m inside of her.” topper says with a thick swallow as your thighs part, opening them wide to show off your pussy, already gleaming with wetness and a peachy pink color that makes rafe want to bend down and bury his tongue inside of your folds, but he has to behave himself, just happy to have this opportunity to see you like this.
“why don’t you finger her first? then you can show me. open her up a little, it’ll help.” rafe instructs.
topper nods, reaching down and pressing one finger against your hole. you tense up briefly before relaxing, allowing topper to push his finger in.
“is she tight?” rafe asks, without really meaning to, but he figures you must be from the way you are squeezed so tightly around his finger.
“yeah, that’s why i can never last.” topper says, thrusting his finger in and out, the slick sounds of his movement squelching throughout the room.
“does that feel good y/n?” rafe asks, eyes flickering up to your face.
“mhm.” you nod, but you don’t feel any urge to moan, needing more. “could add a second, top.” “okay.” topper nods, trying to work a second finger in, but you hiss at the stretch, primarily hurting around your entrance, despite your wetness.
“gotta rub her clit too.” rafe says, reaching over and pressing a fingertip to your clit, rubbing it. you gasp out, not just from the good feeling but from rafe touching you, like he swore to topper he wouldn’t do before he agreed to this.
toppers finger slips easily in once you’ve relaxed to having your clit rubbed. topper looks slightly annoyed, but he stays silent when he sees how much you’re liking it now, unable to hold back your moans. “oh, just like that.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.
“see if you can add a third.” rafe says, flicking his finger over your clit before going back to rubbing.
“i’ve-i’ve never been able to take more than two.” you sit up slightly, surprised when topper presses a third finger and manages to begin thrusting it inside of you.
“aw, fuck.” you whine, trying to close your legs, but topper holds one thigh open with his hand while rafe grasps the other.
“keep ‘em open, cutie.” rafe says. “gonna cum?”
“yeah, yeah keep going-” you cut yourself off before you can yell rafes name instead of toppers.
“pull out, top.” rafe says, suddenly taking his hand away, making your back arch off the bed as you squirm, trying to chase their fingers, to get them back touching you.
“no, no, no.” you whine when topper also pulls out, leaving your hole clenching around nothing.
“sometimes if you’re struggling having her cum with your cock inside her, you can edge her first.” rafe says, switching easily back to teacher mode.
“should i fuck her now?” topper looks to rafe, before glancing to you, realizing he shouldn’t be asking permission to fuck his own girlfriend, but rafe has that type of energy, that commanding presence that easily makes him in control of any situation.
“yeah, put the condom on though.” rafe glances to the bed where topper threw a condom out of his pocket earlier. while topper slides it on, your focus on him, rafe takes a moment to reach to his crotch, squeezing his cock and begging himself to settle, to calm down.
topper lines himself up with your entrance, placing one hand on your hip as he lines himself up with his other hand, pushing inside of you slowly as you moan, eyes squeezing shut, obviously aroused and feeling good by him stretching you, so rafe is unsure what the issue is, until topper begins to move.
he’s thrusting too rapidly, overwhelming you. rafe shakes his head, “slowly, topper. deeper thrusts.”
topper manages to get control of himself, slowing down but still not thrusting deeper, and rafe realizes its because of the angle, topper not holding himself low enough to properly thrust.
“here.” rafe grabs a pillow, a different one from the one you’re laying your head on. rafe taps your hip and you lift them as he stuffs the pillow underneath. “try now.”
topper scooches closer, now able to thrust much easier, entering you at a far better angle as he takes you repeatedly, still going too erratically, too random.
“on a beat.” rafe says. “gotta fuck her steady, can’t just jackhammer.” “i-i-” topper groans out, pulling out, much to your disappointment as you let out a deep sigh. “i can’t, was about to cum.” “damn, baby, you must be real tight.” rafe glances to you, making you blush and close your legs slightly, which is hard as you are propped up, spread open on display.
“try again, top, it’s okay.” you soothe him, keeping your voice soft and steady.
topper nods, retaking his cock in his hand, pushing it back inside. you nod in encouragement as he moves, already going to shallow and too fast to properly build you up.
“gotta rub her clit too, man. remember she’s already close from getting edged.” rafe tries to instruct, but when topper places his thumb on your clit, his movements are jerky and too harsh, almost hurting as you cringe, but in your displeasure, your cunt clenches around toppers cock and he looses control, moaning as he cums, pumping into the condom.
“shit!” topper shouts out in pleasure, before he realizes you’re looking up at him with disappointment in your eyes. “shit.” he groans again, this time angry with himself as he pulls out in shame.
“it’s okay, top.” you sit up, moving the pillow as you reach out for your boyfriend, or at least attempt to, but he moves away, looking down in shame.
“you’re gonna break up with me now.” toppers voice is sad as he speaks.
“what?” it takes you back, not expecting it.
“you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you? because i can’t make you cum, you’re gonna leave me? god, i’m so pathetic.” “i can’t believe you think i’m that shallow.” you scoff as topper pulls the condom off and tosses it into rafes trashcan, who is simply glancing back and forth between the two of you. “that i would break up with you over sex?” “you wouldn’t?” topper questions.
“you would?” you question back, growing frustrated. “topper, i let you take my virginity, i can’t believe you thought i would do that just… just go.”
“no, baby, listen.” topper begins.
“i’m not breaking up with you yet.” you tell him. “but i need some space, please just go.” 
topper can’t hide the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of you, and especially not rafe, so he pulls his clothes back on quickly and haphazardly before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.
you sigh, burying your head in your hands. you wouldn’t break up with topper just because of sex, but his reaction to what happened makes you question everything.
“you okay baby?” rafe asks, making you jump, forgetting he was there.
“yeah, sorry, i can leave.” you move to get off the bed when rafe grabs your wrists, making you stop.
“or you could stay.” rafe says, his voice suggestive, as well as the look on his face.
“i-but topper…” “just finishing off what he started. come on, you came here for help anyways. lets see if you can cum when i fuck you.” “i-i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” --
rafe finally picks his head up from between your legs, cunt now bright red and covered in mess due to your three orgasms his tongue and fingers brought out of you, deciding to go for overstimulation instead of edging, now that he was the one getting to have you.
“still thinking about topper?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine out.
“no.” you admit honestly, all of your thoughts have been replaced by rafe. “fuck me, please, rafe.”
rafe smirks, standing up and taking his shirt off, pleased that your eyes glaze over as you watch him undress, jaw dropping open when his cock is revealed, already hard and leaking.
“yeah, i know i’m bigger than him.” rafe smirks as he climbs onto the bed. “but i opened you up enough, didn’t i? or do i need to make you cum again?”
“n-no.” you shake your head, already so overstimulated. “i want your cock, i need it.” “he always fucks you in missionary?” rafe asks, wanting to make you cum in the same position that topper couldn’t, proving yet another way he’s superior.
“yeah, we haven’t tried anything else.” you say, leaving out the word yet not sure if you can go back to topper after this.
rafe nods, looking towards his drawer that he knows contains condoms, going to grab one before you speak up suddenly, “you-you can fuck me raw. if you want. i’m on birth control.” rafe can’t help but smirk, nodding as he grabs the same pillow again, placing it under your hips, bringing your tired legs up, thighs falling open.
“tell me if it hurts or if anything doesn’t feel good.” rafe says. he’s sure it’s toppers' inadequacies making you struggle, but just in case he wants to take good care of you.
“mkay.” you nod, hands fisting in the bed sheets as rafe rubs the head of his cock through your sticky folds, making sure to tap against your clit, just to tease you even further.
“gonna fuck you so much better than he ever could. ‘ts why you should be with me instead, baby.” rafe says, not letting you respond or even think too much about his statement as his cock pushes inside of you, making your back arch off the bed.
“oh my god!” you shout out, moaning wildly without care as rafe begins to thrust, deep and hard, hitting spots inside of you that topper has never touched before.
“oh, fuck.” rafe groans out. “you are tight, baby.” your cunt is squeezing him, molding to his walls. “no wonder he cums so quickly.” you shake your head, not wanting to think about topper, not wanting to feel any guilt or regret as rafes hips swing forward, cock pressing against your gummy walls as he moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in that same enticing way that made your high build so quickly last time.
“feels really good, rafey.” you moan, raising and lower your hips slightly in time with his thrusts, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling his hot skin against yours, the first person to take you bare.
“i knew there was nothing wrong with you.” rafe smirks. “already close to cumming, aren’t you?”
despite your body being tired from your three previous orgasms, you do feel another one building in your stomach.
“yeah, thats what i thought.” rafe moves faster, rubbing his thumb more intensely. “nothing wrong with you baby, you are perfect. perfect tight little cunt.” “please.” you whine out, unsure what you are begging for as tears slide down your cheeks, purely from being overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve never managed more than two orgasms in a night, and he’s close to doubling that.
“cum for me, doll. don’t have to beg. wanna feel that cunt squeezing around me.” rafe encourages you, pumping quickly as he pinches your clit between his thumb and finger before letting go and rubbing quickly, forcing the orgasm out of you as you scream, entire body tightening as your hips rise, high overtaking you as your eyes open to see rafe looking back at you, cocky look in his eye, but his jaw is slackened in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his dick.
“that’s it, good girl.” rafe affirms, thumb now gently touching around your clit, bringing you down slowly as his cock stays lodged deep inside of you.
you shiver as you lower your hips, breath slowly coming back to normal. 
rafe bends over your body, taking your lips in a kiss. you moan into his mouth, his tongue licking against your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth.
“you just came on my cock, pretty girl.” rafe says.
“i know, i loved it.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe kisses your jaw, obsessed with the taste of your skin almost as much as your cunt.
“hmm, so two more? three?” rafe suddenly snaps his hips forward, making you realize he’s still buried inside of you.
“wait, wha-” your question is cut off as rafe straightens, resuming his same pace as if he didn’t just deliver you the most mind blowing orgasm.
“you think i’d be satisfied with getting you to cum just once?” rafe tsks and shakes his head. “we aren’t even close to done.”
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mrsbarnesblog · 4 months
Text
Tattoo
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
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“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 
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You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 
But you were so wrong. 
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 
“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. ��I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 
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“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 
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The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 
“I can do it myself!” 
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 
He was good at it. 
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 
God, he must be big. 
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.” 
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 
“I do.” 
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 
“Good fucking girl.” 
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 
You both felt how close you were. 
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 
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rebeccccccaaa · 6 days
Text
Poker Face!
_______________
Spencer Reid x Reader
:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::
:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...
:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3
WC~ 3.1 k
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“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 
“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 
“You guys are relentless,” she continued.
“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 
“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.
“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.
“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 
“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.
“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 
“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 
Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 
“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.
“That’s the plan.”
“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 
“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 
“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 
“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.
You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 
You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.
“Whatcha you got?” you asked.
“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.
“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”
It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 
“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.
“What?” Spencer questioned.
“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 
“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 
“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”
“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 
“Strip Poker!” 
“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.
“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.
“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.
“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”
“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 
“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 
“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”
“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 
Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 
Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 
Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.
But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 
You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 
“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”
“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 
“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.
Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 
Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 
“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.
“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 
“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.
Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.
“Hit me,” you egged.
“You got it,” he responded. 
A five. Fuck. 
Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 
“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 
“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 
“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.
“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 
“Blackjack, baby!” 
Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 
“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 
“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 
“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 
“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.
“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 
Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 
“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 
“Blah, blah,” you whispered.
“Don’t give me that.”
“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.
“What’s that?” he bantered.
“You lost.”
“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.
“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 
“Be my guest.”
Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.
“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.
“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 
Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 
He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 
You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 
“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.
“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.
“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 
You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 
You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.
“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 
“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”
You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 
“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”
“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 
“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 
“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.
“Let go, sweetheart.”
“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 
When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 
“That was really good,” you giggled.
“It really was,” he agreed.
“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 
“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 
“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 
“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 
“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.
“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.
You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 
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