randomwritingss

[randomwritingss]

I made this meme back in 2023

Did I cook back then? lol

Me was in benninging of me writin’ career

[randomwritingss]

"Southpaw"

Jim Street x Reader

5 times Person A calls Person B by a pet name and 1 time Person B finds one for Person A.

Warnings: unedited (what's new?), and hint of sexual undercurrent, pining fron Street, obliviousness from reader.

1: Sunshine

"Oh, Sunshine!" Street calls out when he walks into the locker room.

You're there talking with Tan and Luca about something very random; music maybe? Your head snaps to Street and you almost drop the bottle of water as the pair beside you laugh. "Um.." You stutter a little keeping s grip on the bottle. "Wbat do you need, Street?"

The smirk that he gives you, that annoying smirk that you can never decide if you want to slap it off or kiss it off, graces his face as he stops in front of you. "Sparring session, ten minutes, Deacon ordered," he supplies, reaching behind you and opening his locker.

You groan, "Fine," you reply, turning to your own locker and grabbing your workout clothes and walking off to change.

2: Peach

This was just after Street had absolutely won in your sparring session. Despite his usual bravado, he wasn't cocky at winning. Surprisingly. "You did good, Peach," he says, smirking as he helps you up.

You raise an eyebrow and dust yourself off, "Peach? Really?" You ask, crossing your arms.

He chuckles and shrugs, stepping closer to you, "Yeah, you're sweet," he replies, shrugging and brushing past you.

Somewhere in the background, unbeknownst to you, Tan looks at Luca, "She's oblivious."

"You're right, man. But it's fun to watch," Luca replies, shaking his head.

3: Love

You and Street were in one of the Chargers surveilling a suspect's house. This had been going on for hours and you were getting restless.

Street notices; because of course, he does. "You alright there, Love?" He asks, chewing his lips as he looks over at you.

You look over at him and into his hazel eyes, nodding, "Yeah, I'm okay. Just getting restless."

He hums and looks back at the house, nonchalantly saying, "I have a few ideas to help you get less restless." There's an undercurrent to his words, not inherently sexual, but it's there.

"Jim Street!" You hiss, rolling your eyes. He doesn't respond, only laughs.

4: Baby

It had to be Baby, didn't it? You're in a meeting with Commander Hicks about some outreach programs for kids.

Street casually strolls in, arms crossed, making his biceps pop in a tantalizing way. You physically have to tear your eyes away from Street and back to Hicks.

That's when Street decides to be a menace, "Aw, what's wrong, Baby? Can't handle a little muscle?" He teases, much to the displeasure of Hicks.

"If you two could not flirt in front of me," he grumbles, shaking his head. You merely roll your eyes and walk out of his office. "She doesn't know, does she?"

"Nope, not at all," Street replies, smirking.

5: Honey

The team, Luca, Hondo, Chris, Tan, Street, and you were at Deacon's for a cookout. Nothing unusual about it, Deacon did these things every so often.

You were sitting by the pool with Deacon's daughters, Lila and Victoria. You were discussing your favorite Disney movies when you feel Street sit beside you. "You okay, Honey?" He asks, bumping your shoulder.

You freeze as you look over at Street, "Ah, yeah. I'm good," you reply, nodding and getting up excusing yourself to the restroom.

Lila smirks a little as Victoria chuckles, "You've got it bad, Uncle Street," Lila says, watching how Street is watching you walk away.

He lets out a snort but doesn't look from your figure retreating. "I know."

+1: Southpaw

You and Street were in the shooting range, working on your precision, but also challenging the other.

"Come on, Southpaw, thought you were better at this," you taunt, smirking over at him.

He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, "Southpaw? Thought your nickname for me would be better than that," he replies, looking over at you.

You chuckle and shake your head, "Nah. You're a lefty, but you use your right for a few things. It's typically a baseball and boxing term; however, it fits here, too," you reply, raising your gun and shooting just left of the bullseye.

Street chuckles again, "Weak, Love," he teases as he takes a shot; his landing just to the bottom of the bullseye.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, behind the glass behind you, Tan, Luca, and Deacon are watching you. "She really doesn't see it, does she?" Deacon asks, crossing his arms.

"Nope," Luca and Tan reply together.

[randomwritingss]

pairing: evan buckley x reader

sum.: evan buckley loves nothing more than spending time in between your thighs.

warnings: MDNI. smut. literally like 99% smut. plot? don’t know her. oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstimulation, implied that buck cums in his pants, implied p in v sex, let me know if i missed anything!

notes: requested by a lovely anon, anon, i apologize for slightly drifting from the request. i started and then the ending just came out of nowhere but felt right. no one look at me, idk what came over me. unedited. any feedback is extremely appreciated, especially reblogs/asks!

wc: 941

Evan Buckley loves nothing more than coming home to you still in bed, wearing nothing but one of his LAFD t-shirts and pretty pink lace panties.

He’s exhausted. But he hasn’t seen you in over 24 hours. Hasn’t tasted you in over 24 hours.

Evan could live and die in between your thighs. And most days, he tries. Not that you let him most days, citing that the two of you have far more important things to do than spend the day in bed.

You’re off today. Probably scheduled a hot yoga or pilates class for around noon, but you shouldn’t have any real plans today.

Which means he can spend his morning in his favorite place.

Evan makes quick work of stripping himself down to his boxers and crawling into bed next to you.

He wastes no time kissing you awake, quickly and greedily placing his hands on your jaw and bringing his mouth to yours.

You moan into his mouth and kiss him back, waking back up.

“Evan,” You bite your lip as he kisses his way down your neck, making sure to bite down sharply at the junction where your neck and shoulder meet.

“I have, oh fuck, a class in like 20 minutes,” You moan out, and feel him grin against your skin.

“I’ll pay your no show fee, again,”

You roll your eyes when you feel his greedy hands play with the waistband of the frilly pink lace you call panties that he knows you put on when he texted you that he was on his way home.

“They’re going to just cancel my membership at this rate,” Your fingernails dig into his bare shoulders, his mouth finding yours as he starts yanking at your underwear.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing there’s about twelve other pilates studios in a five-mile radius,”

Cheeky bastard.

“And are you going to be paying for my membership to one of these nicer studios?”

He finally pulls away from you to practically rip the t-shirt you're wearing off of your body, one hand immediately pinching at one of your nipples.

“If you want to go to the most expensive pilates studio in LA, I’ll make it happen baby,”

Smirking, you grab his free hand and place it right at your pussy.

“Well then, big boy, you better get your money’s worth,”

Not needing to be told twice, he quickly rips your panties off, kissing your hip bone where one side of the lace dug in harshly.

Blue eyes quickly meet yours, gleaming slightly at the pout on your pretty mouth, “I’ll, uh, replace those too,”

“I know you will, baby,”

Wasting no more time, his tongue licks from the bottom of your cunt to your clit, lightly sucking on your bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god,” Hands finding purchase in his hair and tugging sharply, causing him to groan deeply.

He feels his cock harden, between your whiny moans, the feeling of your fingers tugging at his scalp, and the taste of you on his tongue, he imagines he’ll be cumming in his pants before you have your first orgasm.

Well, he can’t have that.

Tugging your thighs over his shoulders, he tugs you closer to his mouth, tongue making quick work of your clit.

Your grips on his hair tightens along with your core, thighs shaking lightly as you cum with a sharp moan.

Light whimpers leave your mouth as he continues to lightly lick at you, groaning as he grinds his own hips into the bed searching for some sort of relief at the hardness in his boxers.

You push lightly at his forehead, and his lips pull away from you with a light pop.

“You can give me one more,” It’s not a question. Your heart races at the gleam in his eyes

Four orgasms later, you’re hyperventilating and all your limbs are shaking.

Evan’s mouth, and now fingers, have yet to relent their assault on your poor pussy, eyes rolled back in pleasure despite the wet, sticky feeling coming from his boxers.

“E-evan I, oh god,” Tears are streaming down your face as you feel yourself clench down on his fingers, signaling your fifth orgasm of the morning.

“I can’t, oh fuck, oh fuck. Evan, I can’t cum again,”

He pulls his mouth away, but his fingers continue curling up against that spot inside you just right.

“Oh more, please, please. Gimme one more,”

If you didn’t feel so overwhelmed, you’d make fun of him. Looking at you like a puppy begging for scraps.

You’re surprised you can even cum again, you’re less surprised when Evan quickly pulls his fingers from your twitching hole to replace it with his tongue, desperate to drink what your body gives him.

His tongue is kind as it fucks you through your orgasm, hands rubbing your thighs gently to ease the shaking when he finally pulls away from you.

His mouth is on yours just as fast, both of you whimpering when his, somehow, still hard cock grindes against your overstimulated pussy. The sticky wetness of his cum seeping through his boxers and slick of your own cum making your toes curl.

You chase his mouth when he pulls away from you, both of you taking deep breaths.

He looks desperate for you still, puppy eyes shining brightly.

A sadistic feeling climbs up his spine at the tears filling your eyes when he starts grinding just a little harder.

“You did such a good job for me baby,” He sighs, closing his eyes, exhaustion from work slowly starting to creep in, “but can you give me just one more?

[randomwritingss]

Hey, may I request a Jim Street x Reader for the prompt ⭑ “you are so difficult sometimes, just tell me what you want.” “i want you! i want you but i don’t wanna ruin whatever we have between us.”. Thanks🫶

"What do you want?!"

Jim Street x Reader

Warnings: Angst, maybe? Unedited, not my best work..

Ever since you had joined SWAT, you have gravitated towards Street. Maybe it was in the way he carried himself; perhaps it was just something so... Street. Whether it was intentional or not, you both always seemed to stand close to each other.

So when he started pulling away, you noticed. At first, it was subtle, he started standing by Deacon or Hondo; then came him turning down every invitation to hang out after work.

Which leads us here: you standing in front of him in his and Luca's kitchen. The latter man out surfing or doing whatever Luca does. Your arms are crossed as you try to figure out the hazel-eyed man you had come to know.

"Street, talk to me, please," you plead, taking a deep breath, eyes softening as you look at him.

"Y/N/N, I'm fine. Just been... tired," he replies, though you both know he's lying. He always looks away when he lies; something you had picked up on within two weeks of meeting him.

"That's a lie and you know it," you huff, rolling your eyes. "You are so difficult sometimes; just tell me what you want!"

"I want you!" He all but yells at you before lowering his voice. "I want you, but I don't want to ruin whatever we have between us."

Your breath hitches in your throat, clearly taken off guard. Your eyes look his face over, his hazel eyes soft and pleading, lips pressed in a firm line, but the expression? That's what breaks your heart. He's so worried he just messed everything up. "Jim," you whisper, his first name feeling weird coming out of your mouth. "What?"

He looks away, then back at you, taking a deep breath, "Y/N, I want you. I have for weeks, maybe months. I didn't say anything because I didn't think you'd look at me like that."

Your expression softens even more than it was as you uncross your arms and take a tentative step to him, "You silly boy."

His eyebrows raise in surprise and amusement, "What?" He asks, chuckling, looking you up and down.

"I said, you silly boy. I want you, too," your reply is tinged with laughter. It was true, you had harbored feelings for him for a while. Maybe that's why you always was beside him during briefings or any time, really.

Street takes a deep breath and closes the distance between you; he cups your face and looks down at you, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, "Can I kiss you?" He whispers, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up.

"I thought you'd never ask," you whisper back, moving your hands to his sides as he leans in and meets your lips. The kiss is slow and hesitant, almost as if he's scared you'd run away. When you don't, he tilts his head and deepens it.

"Finally!" The sound of Luca's voice has you both pulling away. "It's about time," he grumbles, walking towards his bedroom.

You look up at Street and giggle; he looks down at you and grins, those dimples you love so much popping out, "Where were we?" He asks, kissing you again.

[randomwritingss]

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Notes: The ending of this fic is brought to you by my best friend Molly. Who, at 13 wrote a 300 page One Direction fanfic and then got tired of it and legitimately just quit. This one’s for you babe.

“We’re here!!” You squeal while throwing the door open to Buck’s loft, and he nearly jumps five feet in the air and drops the popcorn when you burst through the door with Eddie. 

Eddie comes around the corner and rolls his eyes while setting the snacks out on the counter.

“I literally told her not to do that.” 

“Hey, I’ve got a key now. I can do what I want.” You wiggle Buck’s apartment key in front of Eddie’s face, and Buck starts unpacking the plastic bags.

“You realize that was for emergencies, right?”

“And this was an emergency! I had to let Eddie in; his arms were full.” You hop up on the barstools and start to help unpack, and Eddie shakes his head. 

“You know if you’d helped me carry them…” 

“Princesses don’t carry grocery bags, Eddie.”

“How do you turn into the most spoiled brat the second you leave the station every day??” He smacks his hand on the counter, and you reach over and pat his shoulder. 

“It’s called being professional, Edmundo.” 

Buck watched how you two interacted while setting up your snack plates. He wished he could be more like Eddie, teasing you and having you lying all over him when you’d die laughing.

But it just didn’t work for him. 

You guys were easy friends; you laughed, you joked, and he gave you a key to his loft. But he just didn’t feel smooth enough to take it a step further. He watched you throwing little punches at Eddie and Eddie lifting you up and running you to the couch to throw you while you screamed. 

Why couldn’t he be fun like that? 

Eddie comes back over while you’re setting up the movie and stands next to Buck, giving him a little hip bump.

“You’re quiet, man. What’s going on?” 

“Huh?” He starts, and Eddie snorts at the little heart shape he’d made out of marshmallows. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Nothing, nothing! Just in my head. I’ll be okay.” He brushes it off, and Eddie blinks at him because he knows his best friend, knows that man like the back of his hand… and he also knows his other best friend. Because the three of you were a trio, much to everyone’s dismay at work. Where you went, they went, and vice versa. So when Eddie first noticed the way Buck would stare at you when you weren’t looking? 

Oh, he needed to do something about that. 

So one night, before bed. Eddie turned to face you while you fought to get comfy on the cots and asked what you really thought of Buck… and after several minutes of swearing he’d never tell him, you pushed the beds together and spent half the time you were supposed to be sleeping whispering back and forth about how into him you were. 

Eddie could tell you were relieved to finally tell someone. 

If only you two idiots could see it. 

“So what did you decide on?” Buck brings your plate over, and Eddie carries the other two. His eyes stayed rolling apparently when he saw Buck set it down carefully for you and make sure you had the most pillows next to you, just like you liked. 

“Transformers! I haven’t watched that in forever!” You stand up from the floor, and Buck looks down at you. Eddie gags at the way you two stop for a second; he can hear your breath hitch and you suddenly turn away and grab your pink duffle from the floor.

“I’m gonna go change real quick! You guys don’t start without me!!” 

You hurry off to the downstairs bathroom, and Buck visibly deflates when you run.

“You should just talk to her,” Eddie sighs and puts his hands on his hips.

“About what?” Buck spins around, and Eddie has to keep from shaking him.

“About how you feel.” 

Buck had spilled his guts on more than one occasion about how into you he was and how nervous you made him. 

“I can’t do that! Do you know how embarrassing it’s gonna be when she tells me off?? But you know she’s too freaking nice. So she’ll probably give me a pity date and say she wasn’t feeling it.”

He flops hopelessly on the couch, and Eddie falls next to him and propped his feet up on the coffee table. 

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“It could! You don’t know!” 

He did know.

“Make sure you sit between us this time because if I sit next to her, I swear I’m gonna bust in my-“ 

You come out of the bathroom with your hair up in your bonnet and the tiniest little tank top he’d ever seen. It was a matching pajama set, one Hen had gotten you for Christmas in an accidental size too small, but you wore it regardless. 

It was a white set with little red hearts all over it and the softest, most comfy pajamas you’d ever owned. There was just one issue that you weren’t exactly aware of yet. 

Buck liked his apartment cold. 

You toss your bag down by the couch and step over Eddie’s legs to wiggle yourself in between them like you did every week. 

“Thanks for waiting!” You put a blanket over your lap and turn your body just slightly into Buck’s. “Are you guys ready?” 

He tries so damn hard not to stare down your top because at this angle he can see right down it. Not to mention it was white, and your pretty skin was very much so not white. Which meant another part of you was darker… a part that most definitely showed through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

“Yeah, we’re ready.” 

How the fuck is Eddie so nonchalant about this. He just sits back on the couch again and hits play. Buck, on the other hand, is sweating bullets and fighting not to stare at your pert nipples. You have a whole ass blanket and don’t want to cover up your chest, not that you need to or that he even wants you to but man would it be nice to breathe again. 

Eddie’s phone starts ringing about 10 minutes into the movie, and you groan and shove at him.

“You know the rules! No phones!” 

“Yeah, no phones! Loser.” 

Buck has finally settled down somewhat, he’s even begun to enjoy you snuggled into his side with your legs across Eddie’s lap.

“I have a kid. Those rules down apply to me.” 

You pause the movie, and he walks off to answer Carla’s call. When he comes back with a sour face, you both sit up quickly.

“Is everything okay?” Buck asks, and Eddie sighs.

“Eh, Chris is having kind of a bad night, and since I’m just hanging with friends and not doing something important, not that you two aren’t important!”

“It would be better if you went home.” You finish for him, and he rubs the back of his head.

“Yeah, I need to be there for him. Are you guys cool if I duck out?” 

No. No, absolutely not. We are not cool.

“Of course, man, you have priorities”, Buck answers smoothly, but Eddie can see the internal panic flowing through his body. He grabs his duffle from the floor and nods at Buck. 

“Walk me out?” 

As soon as the front door closes, Eddie seems to mellow out.

“I’m so sorry, man. I know how nervous you get with her.” 

“It’s okay, Eddie, really. We all love Chris, and if he needs you, he needs you. My petty problems aren’t anywhere near as important as that kid.”

“Buck, you are important to me. You both are, and I’m thrilled you can understand what’s happening. But don’t diminish your problems, you know? To you… being alone with her all night is the worst-case scenario for you.”

“I- I wouldn’t say worst case.” He tosses the bag in the back seat for Eddie while he climbs into the driver's seat.

“Probably best case, really. It’s how all my dirty fantasies start off anyway.” 

Eddie snorts and puts the window down to look at Buck.

“Be yourself. Be the best you that you can be, and it’s gonna be okay. You can text me all you want.” 

“What if I light her hair on fire?”

“There’s a fire extinguisher on the wall and another in the kitchen cabinet under the sink.” 

Buck watches him leave with a little wave. He watches until he can’t see Eddie’s truck anymore, and then he heads back inside. 

The apartment is so quiet when he gets back. Not that it should be a wild party… but he thought you’d at least play the movie. He comes around the counter, and you’re sitting in front of the oven, staring intently.

“Hey?” 

“Oh! You’re back!” You look up at him, and every single movement seems to shake your breasts, and he has to fight to look into your eyes. You look back into the oven intensely, and he leans against the counter. 

“Do I even want to know?”

“I’m making s’mores. And the second I look away, I swear to god they’re gonna burn.” 

You pat the floor next to you, and he eases down and rests his back against the island. He’s watching the oven with you in surprisingly not awkward silence when his eyes begin to wander. 

Everything about you was so curvy and perfect. He liked the way you filled out those pajamas, and he liked the way they rode down with how you were sitting. 

Yup, he could stare at you for hours. 

He looks back at the oven door, and you’re staring at him. He lets his head fall back against the island with a thud, and you snort and smack your hand over your mouth.

“Were you just checking out my ass?” 

He groans loudly and slumps over on his side, and you start giggling and slapping his thigh. 

“You were!!”

“Watch your damn s’mores!”

“Oh, I’ll watch them, alright.” 

You get on your hands and knees and wiggle your hips in his face. You spread your knees and arch your back while scooting a little closer to the oven.

“I think they’re almost done!” 

“I have to use the bathroom.” Buck scrambles from the floor and runs to the bathroom, and you crumple into a little pile on the floor, laughing at him. 

It turns out the most embarrassing thing in the world to happen to him is also one of the best. Because now things are a lot easier with you, your teasing doesn’t fluster him as much, and he can actually joke with you. 

“You know, you’re actually pretty comfy.” You look up at him, and he blushes and puts his arm around your waist. 

“I try.” 

You pull your knees up closer and lean into him fully, with your head resting on his chest, and he hesitantly leans forward before kissing your hair.

Like friends do! 

You look up at him, kiss his jaw with a sultry little smile, and go back to the movie. 

Okay, what the hell was that response? And why did it make him want to jump your bones immediately? 

You finish the Transformers movie, destroy the s’mores, and move on to Cinderella next. Buck had never seen the third one, and you nearly had an aneurysm when he told you. 

“Are you kidding?! It’s amazing.” You shook his shoulders, and he rolled his eyes and yanked you across his lap. 

See? It was easier! 

He gave your butt a whack and you rolled off of him dying with laughter. Oh, if only Eddie could see him now. It was all a joke to you… but the way your ass rippled nearly had him busting from his pants. 

He didn’t expect you to get right back up and tackle him back onto the couch or for you two to start fighting. You’re laughing, and he’s laughing, and he’s not even thinking about your body pressed to his or the way you sound breathless when he knocks you onto the couch and he’s panting over you and you’re staring into each other's eyes.

Nooo, he’s not thinking about any of that. 

“Fine god! We can watch it!” Buck gets off you and pulls you close to him again. He can still feel your short breaths against his body, and he has to think about Bobby in the shower just to calm down. You reach over, grab the remote from the table, and get comfy up against him again. 

“It’s funny you think you even had a choice.” 

Halfway through the movie, Buck is absolutely enamored. He’s traded you for a pillow, and he’s hugging it tightly. He’s not sure when that happened because when he looks down to ask you to pause the movie, your eyes aren’t even open. He reaches over and takes the remote from your lap and hits pause, trying his hardest not to wake you. He’d stay like that all night if you wanted. 

You start to stir a little anyway, and your eyes flutter open. You look at the screen and then at him and sigh.

“What time is it?” 

He feels that loss of warmth as you get up to stretch but ignores it to lift his wrist to check his watch lazily.

“Uhh, 2:45.” 

“Oh!” You stumble a little sleepily to collect your blanket from the floor, and he grabs your arm to keep you steady 

“You wanna turn in? I think I blacked out for like the last half hour.” 

“Yeah, probably. this movie deserves your full attention.” You lean against him when he stands up, and his heart skips a beat. He awkwardly puts his arms around you before settling them, and you put your chin on his chest.

“Hurry up so I can make up my bed and pass out already.”

“Make up your bed?” 

“Yeah.” You gesture to the couch, and he scoffs. 

“I think we can share a bed Y/N. I’m not gonna put you on the couch. Hell, you can even have my bed, and I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. If you don’t mind sharing, I’m up for it!” 

He takes your duffel bag from the floor, and you follow him up the stairs. He tosses it down next to his bed and yanks the covers back before flopping down on one side.

It’s a little embarrassing the way he bites his lip when you crawl up the bed, and he hopes you didn’t notice. You don’t say anything as you get under the covers and pull them up around you, though, so he thinks he’s safe. 

“Nighty night, Buck.” You yawn and scoot your body just a little closer to his, and he looks over at you.

“Night Y/N” 

An hour later, and Buck is starting to think this was the dumbest thing he’d ever suggested in his life. 

Every time his eyes wander to your sleeping form, he yanks them right back. He was able to ignore your shirt situation when there was a movie to watch; hell, he’d even forgotten about it! But now, in the moonlight and the quietness of the middle of the night?… He can see perfectly through your shirt. 

He didn’t even realize he was staring at first until you stirred a little, and he snapped his eyes shut. You’d gotten hot at some point and shoved the covers down a bit, and now he had the most perfect view of your chest. Your nipples pebbled under the cool air of his apartment, and they stick out of the tight fabric of your shirt so clearly. He can even make out the gorgeous dark circles surrounding them. 

And he just knows they’d fit so nicely in his mouth. He can just see it now, rolling his tongue over those cute little nubs and sucking until you’re a whining mess underneath him. 

Oh, that would be the dream. 

You stir again and roll over onto your back, and Buck rolls onto his other side to stare at the wall. This was going to be a long night. 

At some point, he must have finally dozed off because he woke up exhausted. He didn’t get much sleep, which wasn’t really a surprise, but the sleep he did get was good. Solely because of the dreams. Maybe it was because you were so close or maybe because he was just happy you were there; either way, he isn’t mad, he’s exhausted.

He stretches out and lazily rolls over to wake you up, and he freezes in place, with his arms still up and everything. 

He blinks and slowly lets his arms fall, and he’s not sure if he’s losing his mind or if he’s actually seeing what he’s seeing. 

You’re laid on your side, sleeping peacefully and snoring softly-

And one of your boobs popped out of your tank top. 

It’s like someone just hates him. Someone is just messing with him at this point, and he doesn’t even know why. He’s a good guy! He pays his taxes! He donates to humane societies. 

He doesn’t even notice your eyes have opened or that you’re staring right at him with that soft, sleepy expression. He doesn’t notice the warmth blooming between your thighs, and he doesn’t notice you lick your lips when your eyes flick down to the aching tent in his pants. 

It’s not until he rolls his eyes at himself and finally looks up at you that he turns into a whole-ass tomato. He just stares like a deer caught in the headlights, and you look right back at him. 

Because teehee he was caught before looking at your ass, but this? There is nothing subtle about the way his mouth is watering… and there’s certainly nothing subtle about the way you wag your finger at him, and he pounces. 

He pushes you on your back and latches onto your breast immediately. His eyes roll back in his head as he captures that little nub between his lips and swirls his tongue around it, enjoying the way it grows into a hard peak. He bites down gently, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure down your spine. 

“O-oh god, Buck,” You moan softly and bury your head in the pillows. He groans around your nipple and looks up at you, watching you pant softly. He’d been dying to see you like that for ages, and every image he dreamed up was never as good as this was. None of the filthy, depraved dreams he had about you came close to how good you really looked. 

He settles down between your legs, and you can feel him. Your hips start to move against his, begging for friction, and he gives it to you so easily. He reaches down and pushes his boxers messily around his thighs and drags his cock against your panties.

“Do you want this as much as I do?”

He seems a little hesitant when he looks down at you like he’s not literally rubbing his cock on you. You cup his cheek and reach down, moving your panties to the side and biting your lip.

“This answer your question?” You guide his cock between your folds, smearing the tip through your wetness. You sigh together and Buck takes over for you, rubbing his cock against your clit. 

“I don’t think I can be gentle.” 

He’s straining to control himself. The tip keeps getting caught at your hole, and now he’s just lightly pushing the tip in and out, testing just how wet you are for him and if he needs that bottle of lube in his top drawer. 

“I don’t want you to be.” 

Your back arches, pushing your tits forward purposely and he’s putty in your hands. He wraps his hands around them and squeezes them together. He buries his face between your tits and you laugh and run your fingers through his hair and tug.

“You’re being ridiculous,” You tell him and he scoffs and sucks your nipples into his mouth, rolling his tongue over them and biting down. You gasp, making your hips grind down on his cock and he slips inside you. 

He groans loudly and lets go of your breasts and instead holds your hips. The way you clench around him almost sends him to an early freaking grave. He lets his head fall forward, letting out a puff of air, and slowly thrusts into you. You wrap one arm around his neck and splay the other across his back to pull him toward you.

“That’s my girl” He pants in your ear, watching your face contort in pleasure “Take my cock bunny”

You arch your back further into his chest, and he hooks his arm under you. It feels like he’s splitting you in half with the way he pounds into you, chasing a high that you’ve both been craving for too long.

“I’ve dreamt about this so many times.” He nips at your neck, leaving little marks in his wake. 

“Imagining what you’d sound like falling apart on my cock” He accentuates his words with a sharp thrust and you moan his name, your nails digging into his back and spurring him on 

“Gonna fuck this pretty little pussy until you’re screaming my name. I want my neighbors to know who you belong to.”

You whack his chest with a squeak, and he laughs into your shoulder 

“Buck! That’s emba-“

You yelp when he pulls out and easily flips you over onto your stomach. He thrusts back into you with one smooth stroke and leans over you, making you moan at the angle he’s stretching you. 

His hands grip you so tightly that he knows he’s leaving bruises, but he doesn’t care. He needs to mark you, remind you who you finally belong to, and you take every mark he leaves, eagerly leaving a few of your own. 

“Thats it bunny, cum on my cock. Please, please, I need to feel you come undone.” The way his voice cracks sends another wave of pleasure crashing over your body, and you’re seeing stars. He reaches around your hips and the second his fingers find your clit you feel your body explode. 

You shriek his name, raising your hips to meet each of his erratic thrusts that become more and more messy the closer he is to cumming inside you, the closer he is to breeding you to the brim and claiming you. 

He flips you over with his cock still buried deep inside you and swallows your broken moans. He crashes his lips to yours, and he lets out a strangled groan. He hardly gets three more strokes before he empties himself inside you. He pushes his cock in as hard as he can, splitting you open on him and you sob his name, your nails leaving angry red lines on his chest. 

He collapses on top of you, panting wildly and crushing your body with his. You gingerly wrap your arms around his neck, more like awkwardly letting them hang there, and he buries his face into your shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters in your ear, and you nod, wordlessly agreeing with him. 

He pulls back a little to look at you and smiles, nuzzling your nose with his. You blink blearily at him with a blissed-out smile on your face and peck his lips.

“I can’t feel my body.”

“Is that my fault? Or the sex.” 

“I’m pretty sure both those things are your fault.” You poke his nose, and he nips at your finger, making you giggle. 

“Do you want me to get off?” 

“Not yet.” 

He cuddles into you, keeping you there and blissfully falling asleep to the sound of your heart beating. 

Buck wakes up alone. Which is super weird considering he thought you were there. Maybe it had been some elaborate sex dream. He rolls out of bed, still naked,  and walks downstairs to go see if there’s any evidence of you actually having been at his place. 

Coming down the stairs, he sees you sitting at the island in one of his T-shirts. 

Ohhoho, so it was very much so not a dream. 

“Hello, Gor-“

He freezes in his tracks, and his jaw drops. Eddie is sitting on the chair next to you and spins around.

“Good morn- Jesus- Buck!! Put some clothes on! What the hell?!” Eddie slaps his hands over his face, and you burst out laughing. 

“What are you doing here?!” Buck slaps his hands over his dick and runs around the corner.

“I just came to see if you guys fucked or not! Dude! Why would you come down here without clothes?”

“You came to what?! And it’s my house! If I wanna be naked, I’m gonna be naked!!!” 

“Can you-“ Eddie takes his shirt off and throws it somewhere, and Buck runs over and takes it. He pulls it on over his head and ties one of his jackets around his waist. He stomps over to the other side of the island and crosses his arms.

“I’m dressed…ish.” 

Eddie lets his hands slide down his face and glares at Buck. You’re just wiping the tears from your eyes and trying to keep yourself up on the chair without toppling over.

“Why are you here?” Buck narrows his eyes and turns to get a cup of coffee.

“Jesus-“ Eddie looks away from the eyeful of Buck’s ass and glares at you while you openly stare at it.

“I came to see if you two slept together.”

“Yeah, he lied,” You chime in, taking a sip of your iced coffee, and Buck spins around, hissing when a drop falls on his skin.

“You what?!” 

“Chris was at a sleepover! He had a nice night with Marisol… He left to try and give us time together alone.”

“Eddie! How dare you!! It was movie night!!” 

“That’s what she said.”

“That’s what I said!!!” You throw your hands in the air, and Buck flicks the coffee creamer lid at Eddie. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it!” Eddie picks it up and throws it back at him. Buck snatches it from the floor and slaps it back onto the bottle.

“Maybe…”

“Uh-huh, that’s what I freaking thought. God, I’ve been waiting months for you two idiots to just get together!” 

“Well, we did.” You shrug around a bite of muffin. “Oh boy, did we get togethe.r” 

“My favorite part was cupping you to keep it all in.”

Eddie nearly loses his breakfast. 

And just like any other fairy tale, no matter how real or imaginary, they all lived happily ever after. 

[randomwritingss]

Please?

can we still be friends? ˎˊ˗

⭑ “you’re both very close.” “who? us? no, no way. we’re just teammates. at work. so colleges. we’re work friends.” “i never implied otherwise.”

⭑ small touches to the other’s waist of lower back to move them around. they always blush.

⭑ other people constantly telling them t entre zoning out on each other.

⭑ always having the others favorite breakfast at their desk before they make it into work with a sweet note.

⭑ calling them during an emergency because their phone is about to die in the middle of the night. they rush over.

⭑ casually deciding they should stop putting so many restrictions on their friendship. friends can touch and hang out alone and call every night. that’s okay.

⭑ “if we’re both single by like, 40, we should get together.”

⭑ “she’s nice. real pretty too.” “not as much as you.”

⭑ “a lot of people would kill to be with you, don’t waste time with that asshole.” “no one would, believe me.” “i would.”

⭑ “you are so difficult sometimes, just tell me what you want.” “i want you! i want you but i don’t wanna ruin whatever we have between us.”

⭑ deciding to laugh instead when someone mistakes them for a couple.

based on this ask !

[randomwritingss]

that old cliché.

you swore you’d never give in to the maid of honour and best man cliche. and then you met evan buckley.

evan buckley x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol. buck’s a filthy flirt.

word count - 6k

authors note - and so she returns!! thank you all so much for your loveliness on my post about my break - I appreciate it more than you know. this one was so much fun to write. i’ve not written any longer stuff for buck, but he’s a character I feel that I have a really good understanding of - I actually think we’re very alike - so this came so easy. hope you love it as much as I do. <3

masterlist. inbox.

Silvery melodies of laughter clink off the rim of the champagne flute you hold in your freshly manicured hand. As the gentle breeze whips through the material of your dress, you look around you, realising you’ve never seen so many people so happy at once.

The backyard of the Italian villa is packed, dozens of guests milling around - dancing, drinking, chatting and catching up. Family, friends, colleagues; people from every phase of the bride and grooms life, all celebrating together in one place.

A rocks glass is placed down onto the table in front of you with a thud. Looking up, you’re met with the sight of the best man towering over you expectantly with a drink in his hand.

“Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

You scoff, staring up at him through your lashes.

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yeah. But why?”

“It’s whiskey. I watched you grimace every time you had to drink the champagne, so I thought you’d want something different.”

You swirl the glass, listening to the tinkle of the ice against the sides.

“You were watching me, huh?”

“Of course I was. Can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”

“Shut up,” you chide, fighting to keep the grin off your face. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“The whole best man and maid of honour thing. It’s just too cliched.”

He laughs all hearty and genuine, and you poignantly ignore the way the butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Yeah, right. In your dreams, Evan.”

“Oh, you will be,” he winks, knocking his glass against yours in a quick cheers before walking off to the find the groom.

You watch him go, not completely oblivious to the way his suit fits him just right. Determined to stand your ground, you inhale a deep breath before taking a sip of your drink. The drink that definitely isn’t exactly what you needed. The drink that he’d practically read your mind to figure out. Effortlessly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been like this all day.

You met Evan Buckley for the first time last night, at the rehearsal dinner. The bride, your best friend in the world, kept telling you that you’d love the best man.

“He’s from California,” she’d said. “He’s Danny’s friend from when they were kids. He’s a firefighter, babe. He’s hot.”

You’d laughed it off, zipping up the back of her dress while she watched you in the mirror.

“Oh, come on. That’s so cliched. The whole maid of honour and best man thing is so old, Lucy.”

“You’re single, he’s single,” she’d protested. “It’d do you some good to get laid, relieve some stress. And people let their guards down at weddings. Now’s your chance.”

“If I wanted to get laid, I’d get laid,” you scoffed.

“All I’m saying is that Buck is completely your type. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s sweet. And you’re gonna have to spend a fair bit of time together tonight and tomorrow, so… just keep an open mind.”

“Fine,” you soothed, rolling your eyes. “Mind wide open. Alright?”

“You’re gonna love him.”

“You said that already.”

“Because I really believe it. You’re gonna love him.”

And the problem is… she was kind of right.

No, you don’t love him. You’ve known him for 48 hours. But… there’s something.

Lucy wasn’t lying. He is gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. And hot. So hot. He showed up to the rehearsal dinner in dress pants and a linen shirt, all sun kissed and muscled and tanned and stunning.

The two of you were seated next to each other, planned so carefully by the bride and groom. One minute you were making cautious introductions, shaking hands and smiling gently. The next minute you were crying with laughter, clutching at his bicep as he grabs your thigh, legs intertwined and chairs pulled together.

Lucy and Danny nudge each other occasionally, watching the both of you get along like two old friends that have known each other forever. A look passes between them that says I told you so clear as day.

But you’re stubborn. Too stubborn, some may say. You know you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends if you give into this very alluring temptation, and perhaps your pride means a bit more to you than it should. So you resist, you refuse to give in. Even if you really want to.

And that was just last night. Today has been even worse.

By worse, you mean the connection between you and Evan has grown even stronger. You walked down the aisle with him, arm linked with his, both dressed up to the nines. The maid of honour and the best man, a perfect picture.

You haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other all day. Little touches - his fingers on the small of your back, your grip on his bicep, shoulders brushing and thighs pressed together. Nothing crazy, but nothing meaningless, either. There’s an undeniable electricity buzzing between you, hot and alive.

You’re not sure how much longer you can deny it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re dancing with Lucy and her little nieces when you hear yelling and commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor. Looking over, you see Danny, Evan and other groomsmen flailing around and fussing.

“What happened?” Lucy’s yelling, making her way over with you in tow.

“Just a drink spillage, Luce! But it’s red wine, and now Buck’s shirt is pink.”

You look at the man in question and can’t help but laugh. His crisp white dress shirt is now a pretty shade of pink across the front, his cheeks a rosy colour to match.

“Stop laughing,” he chides, but he’s grinning at you as he says it. “I need to go and change. I have a spare shirt in my suitcase upstairs.”

He starts to leave, but soon turns around and calls your name.

“I don’t have a key for that big door at the end of the hallway to get to our rooms. Do you?”

“Yeah, it’s in my purse. You want it?”

“Just come with me. It’ll be easier.”

Before you can argue, he’s taken off, big strides across the garden. You have to practically run in your heels to keep up with him, shaking your head in frustration.

“I could have just given you this,” you say when you reach the door, unlocking it for him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The smirk he gives you is so cheeky, it’s a wonder you don’t smack it off his face. Cocky bastard.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, walking with purpose to his room.

“Come in with me? It’ll only take a minute, then we can walk back together.”

You know you should say no, tell him that you’ll meet him downstairs. But you don’t. Instead, you say,

“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna miss the party.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes, unlocking the door to his room that’s conveniently directly across from yours.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid watching him undress. He shrugs off his now pink shirt, taking it with him into the bathroom.

You’re surprised at how tidy everything is. Not that you think Evan would be particularly messy, but he doesn’t strike you as a neat and clean type. His suitcase is unpacked into the closet, bed made, nothing on the floor. It only makes you like him more.

“Can you grab my other shirt from the closet please, gorgeous? The one I wore last night for the rehearsal dinner.”

You swing the two doors open and rifle around, failing to see the linen button up that he’s looking for. Suddenly, you feel a warmth behind you, Buck’s solid form caging you in. He reaches around you, arm brushing yours as he finds what he needs.

“Found it,” he murmurs into your ear, all low and honeyed.

Against your better judgment, you turn around, finding yourself face to face with him. He towers over you, watching your reactions carefully. Your hands reach out and rest on his bare chest, steadying yourself before you either fall over or pass out.

Buck gently traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes completely locked on yours. You have to resist every urge to either bite it or suck it into your mouth, reminding yourself that now isn’t the time. The noise from the garden floats up and through the window that’s cracked open slightly, tethering you to the reality that is slowly fading away the longer you hold Evan’s gaze.

He leans in, and to your surprise, doesn’t kiss you immediately. Pressing his forehead to yours, he inhales deeply, as if committing the moment to memory. His thumbs are now tracing gentle circles on your jaw, soft and callous at the same time. You inhale slowly, processing the scent of his cologne mixed with the evening breeze. If you could bottle it up, you think, you’d be a millionaire. This would cure everything.

Buck finally closes down the gap between you, inching towards your lips softly. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to finally kiss you - when there’s deafening knocking on the door. The two of you jump apart, hearts pounding and nerves on a live wire.

Evan strides over to the source of the noise, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he goes. You perch on the edge of the bed, smoothing down your dress and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Buck? Dude, it’s Jake. Hurry up, yeah? The guys wanna do our dance routine before everyone gets too drunk to remember it.”

He doesn’t bother opening the door, just yells back through the wood.

“Yeah, sure - I’ll be down in a minute!”

You hear Jake’s footsteps retreat, both of you exhaling the breaths you didn’t know you’d been holding. Buck looks at you, worried that the moment’s been ruined, to find you stifling a laugh behind your hand.

“There’s a dance routine?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “We created it years ago. The guys won’t let it die.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”

You’re cackling, reclining onto the duvet as you laugh.

“Stop,” he groans, jumping over to flop onto his back on the bed next to you. “I did a lot of regrettable things in college… and that routine is definitely the worst of it.”

“I hope you know that you’re never going to live this down, Buckley. I’ll be reminding you of this forever.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you. “You really like me, huh?”

“What the hell gave you that impression?”

“You said forever. What’s next, honey? You gonna get down on one knee later?”

You’re suddenly aware of the warmth of the whiskey flowing through your veins, giving you a liquid confidence that stuns both you and the man lying next to you.

“Two knees, maybe. But not one.”

His eyes go wide as you smirk, pulling yourself off the bed and making your way over to the door. Buck watches you carefully, gaze steady and firm.

“You coming? I’m more than ready to see those moves of yours.”

He stands up, slipping on his shoes and shrugging the clean shirt onto his broad shoulders. You grab your purse, leaning against the doorframe as you wait.

Evan reaches past you for the door handle, nose purposely brushing yours as he does it.

“I’ll hold you to what you said before,” he murmurs, moving a strand of hair away from your face softly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

You look up at him with big doe eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Sure, Evan,” you reply lowly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Breaking away from him, you swing the door open, strutting down the hallway without looking back. Your confidence has sky rocketed, knowing that he wants this just as badly as you do. You walk back out to the garden and take your earlier seat, ready for the show you’ve been promised.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dance routine is spectacular.

It’s cheesy and hilarious and very early 2000s inspired - it’s almost like watching a music video from a boy band you loved when you were a teenager. It should embarrass you, turn you off majorly, but… it doesn’t. It only does the opposite.

Everything Buck does makes you like him more.

You spend the rest of the evening dancing, laughing, and floating on cloud nine. In a garden in Italy, surrounded by your best friends - you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

As the evening dwindles to an end, everyone slowly begins making their way back to their rooms within the villa. You sit down, unbuckling your heels to finally give your feet a rest. It almost feels like deja vu when a rocks glass is placed down in front of you on the table.

“Hi, Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yes, but why?”

He pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down, looking at you intently.

“Thought we could have a nightcap before we go upstairs.”

You look around to find that mostly everyone has decided to call it a day. You can see Lucy and Danny walking off hand in hand, going for a stroll around the grounds before they let the wedding officially be over. It just leaves you and Buck, sat in your original places.

“Is this Baileys?”

“Yes ma’am. Do you like it? I figured you probably wouldn’t want another whiskey, seeing as you’ve had so many.”

You scoff, trying to fight the grin that threatens to take over your face.

“I’ve had, like, four, thank you very much.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“Cheers, Evan,” you toast, clinking your glass against his matching one. “We did it. A wedding without a hitch. Mostly.”

“My shirt will never be white again, but besides that, we did a pretty good job.”

“We make a good team.”

He looks slightly taken aback by your honesty, trying to hide his smirk.

“Yes, we do. A super hot, super funny team.”

“A super hot, super funny team.”

You both laugh, heads thrown back with no cares in the world. Buck shuffles his chair forward so his legs are slotted on either side of you, warm skin radiating into yours. The moonlight is glinting off of his cheekbones, illuminating the light streaks in his hair. You’re a little tipsy and much too tired to fully fight your feelings anymore.

He’s beautiful, and you’re sick of denying it.

The two of you finish off your drinks, sat in a comfortable silence beneath the starry night sky. His hand has found its way onto your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into your bare skin. You’re sneaking glances at him when he looks away, admiring the way he’s glowing, buzzed off of the alcohol and the excitement of the day. He’s doing the same with you, soft smile etched onto his face as he watches you gaze up at the stars above your heads.

A yawn escapes you, making both of you chuckle.

“I’ll walk you to your room?”

“Well, you better. I’m the only one of us with a key for that big door.”

He laughs even harder, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I forgot about that. If you weren’t here, I’d have slept on the floor in the hallway or something.”

“Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter, standing up and tucking your chair under the table.

“Sorry, what was that? Say it again? Hmm? Hmm?” he wraps his arms around your middle, spinning you so your feet are no longer on the floor.

“Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up,” you shriek, giggling like a teenager.

He places you back down, hands on your hips to steady you. You look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on his to steady yourself from the dizziness. When you feel ready to go, you clear your throat, willing yourself to walk away before you kiss him stupid.

“We should go to bed,” you whisper, afraid to ruin the moment.

“Yeah?”

“Separate beds,” you tell him sternly, chuckling when he cackles.

“Yes ma’am.”

Buck walks you back to your room in a gentlemanly fashion, looping your arm through his to keep you both upright. When you reach your door, your fingers linger on the handle, as if you’re not quite ready to go inside just yet.

Reaching out gently, he moves a strand of hair from your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone as he does it. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet contact.

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmurs lowly. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.”

He takes a step back towards his door when you speak again.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything, today. You’ve been a damn good best man.”

“Well, thank you. For being the best maid of honour.”

You nod, smiling like an idiot as you unlock your door and shut it behind you. You take a deep breath when you’re finally inside, throwing down your heels onto the floor and your purse onto the side table. Reaching behind you, your fingers tug at the zipper on your dress, attempting to pull it down.

It’s only now you realise your dilemma. The zipper is on an awkward place on your back, right where you can’t get to. You think quickly back to this morning - one of the bridesmaids doing the dress up for you, pulling the material taut as she fastened it. You’re not going to be able to get this off yourself.

Finding the purse that you discarded minutes earlier, you aim to find a hair clip. If you can loop a bobby pin into the zipper, you think, you might be able to pull it yourself. You root around in it for a second, before pulling out two phones.

Well, fuck.

You’d completely forgotten that Evan had given it to you earlier in the evening, worried that it was going to get broken if it stayed in his back pocket. You’d tucked it away and not thought about it again.

Until now.

Now, you’re realising that you’re going to have to go and give it back. He probably hasn’t remembered that you have it, otherwise you’re sure he’d be knocking on the door or yelling across the hallway.

You stand in the middle of your room, with two phones and a stuck zipper, wondering if the universe thinks this is funny.

You’re certainly not laughing.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Evan?”

He swings the door open, facing you in his suit trousers with no shirt on.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh, I have your phone.”

Holding it out to him, his fingertips brush yours as he takes it from you, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh, shit. I forgot about this. Thanks, pretty.”

“Of course.”

You stand and look at each other for a second, so much left unsaid.

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Anything.”

His instantly willingness has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flitting and lightweight and undeniable.

“Can you help me get my dress off?”

When he smirks and goes to speak, you cut him off quickly.

“The zipper is stuck, Evan. Alice zipped me up this morning and I can’t undo it by myself.”

“This is a very long winded way of asking me to get you naked, gorgeous.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“If that’s what I wanted, I would just ask you, Buckley.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Can you help me or not?”

He’s laughing, now, head thrown back with it. You hate the way it makes your heart sing.

“You coming in? Or you want me to undress you in the hallway?”

“You’re not undressing- fuck, you’re annoying.”

He’s still chuckling when he ushers you inside, shutting the door firmly behind you both.

“How do you wanna do this? Lights on, lights off? Curtains open or shut? Music? Candles?”

“Undo the damn zipper before I smack you.”

His laughter is rumbling through his chest, contagious in its nature. You want to be angry at him, but you just can’t seem to find it in you.

“Turn around, gorgeous.”

You spin to face the door, taking a deep breath as you anticipate his touch. You feel his warmth behind you, fingertips dancing over the skin of your shoulders before they reach your zipper. You can’t see him, but you can envisage the sight - his broad chest, thick neck, that beautiful sun kissed glow he’s developed over the past few days. Your lungs heave as the room suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees.

Buck slides the zipper down your back slowly, with intent and clarity. When it reaches your coccyx, he stops, resting his other hand on your hip to keep you steady.

You know you should step away, maybe throw him a quick thanks as you leave. But you do believe in fate, whether you like to admit it or not - and this entire night has felt like it’s been written in the stars.

Who are you to deny what the universe is so clearly gifting you?

You let your arms relax, sighing as the dress falls off of you and down to the floor. You step out of it, finally turning around to face Buck wearing nothing but your lacy white underwear. Surprisingly, there’s not an ounce of self consciousness in your body. The only thing you feel is desire.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Evan is completely speechless. His eyes rove over you, drinking in the sight in front of him, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers in awe, fingers itching to reach out and touch you. “The minute I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were real.”

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me, please.”

He grins, surging forward to cup your cheek with one hand while the other finds its home on your waist.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

“Finally.”

Buck leans in and presses his lips to yours surprisingly gently, testing the waters. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He gets the message, reeling you in and deepening the kiss until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

You’re being walked backwards and into the wall, pushed up against it for leverage. You hike a leg up over Bucks hip, groaning when the two of you grind forwards at the same time. His hands are everywhere - your face, tits, ass, waist - anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s not quite sure where he wants them, as if he’s worried he’ll leave somewhere untouched.

“You’re all I’ve thought about for two days,” he’s muttering into your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin. “Driving me crazy.”

“I got myself off last night,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks at the spot under your ear. “Thinking about you.”

“Fuck,” he moans, sinking down to his knees in front of you. “Tell me more. Please.”

It’s almost biblical, the sight of him. On his knees, practically begging, looking up at you like you’re his saviour. You’re dizzy with the power, blood rushing straight to your head.

Buck presses kisses into your leg, starting at your calves and moving up. When he gets to your inner thigh, he gazes up at you, pleading with his eyes for you to continue.

“Tell me more or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down and off.

“Okay, okay,” you pant, dropping your head back against the wall. “I, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about your arms in that shirt. The, the, the-”

You’re stuttering as he licks a stripe up your core, diving in with no hesitation. His fingers are gripping your thighs so hard you know it’ll bruise, and you can’t wait to feel the imprints in the morning.

“The?”

He’s pulled away to look at you with his brow quirked, dirty smirk etched across his face.

“Keep going, gorgeous. You haven’t even got to the good part. Neither of us have.”

You scoff at him in defiance, but slide your fingers into his hair to tug him back to where you want him.

“You looked so strong,” you continue, sighing when his tongue finds your core again. “Kept thinking about how easily you could throw me around. Pick me up, sit me on your face…”

Buck groans, all deep and rumbled, and the vibrations have your legs going weak. He doubles down on his efforts, slipping his tongue inside as his nose nudges your clit. He’s a fast learner, taking mental note of the spots and pressures that make your knees buckle.

“Keep going,” he mumbles into your core.

“You keep going,” you retort, pulling at his hair.

He chuckles but obliges your request, sucking your clit into his mouth with purpose. You’re shaking, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your climax. The moan you let out is borderline pornographic, and it has Buck palming himself over his suit trousers with a groan.

“Fuck, Evan,” you pant, chest heaving as you slump into the wall. “You need to grab me before I collapse. My legs are jelly.”

Laughing as he does it, he stands up and wraps his arms around your middle, holding you against him as tightly as he can.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Better than ever.”

He rests his lips on your forehead, both of you breathing each other in for a moment.

“Can’t believe you were right across the hallway from me, trying to be quiet while you were getting yourself off,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your back. “You should have come over here. I would have helped you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you tease, cupping his face in your hands. “I was still acting like I didn’t wanna rip your clothes off back then.”

“Knew you’d crack eventually,” he winks, grinning when you laugh.

You pull him into you for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, clearly telling him exactly what you want.

“You gonna fuck me, Evan? Or are we just gonna stand here all night?”

He shakes his head with a smirk before throwing you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce back off. As he starts to crawl over to you, you stop him with a foot on his chest.

“Nuh uh. You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Buckley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He’s standing up immediately, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off in one fell swoop. His boxers are next, leaving him stood bare and beautiful in front of you.

“Fuck. You’re not real,” you breathe out, eyes dancing over him.

“Oh I am so real,” he’s reassuring, situating himself on top of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down so you can grind your hips into his.

“I’ve been waiting two days for this,” you murmur into his lips. “Make it worth my while, please.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he teases, kissing you again with such a force that you’re dizzy.

Buck sucks a bruise into your collarbone, licking a stripe up your sternum and tasting the salt that sits on your skin. Your patience is wearing thinner and thinner, anticipation bubbling up in your veins.

“How’d you want it?” he whispers into your ear.

“Just- deep. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”

He groans, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.

“Anything you want, gorgeous. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the world.”

His lust drunk rambling makes you giggle, wiggling your hips into his to hopefully hurry him up. You tug at his hair, pulling his face so it’s level with yours.

“Now, Evan. Can’t wait any longer. Please.”

“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you beg.”

He lines himself up, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you connect. He’s big and he’s stretching you out just right and you think you might have died and gone to heaven. You both groan, panting into each others mouths.

“Fuck, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”

The baby sends warmth running through both your core and your heart, all the signals setting your nervous system on fire.

“Please,” you whimper, kissing him with desperation as you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull. “Please, Evan.”

“I’ve got you,” he’s mumbling, pulling his hips back and sliding them forwards with clear intent.

Reaching up beside your head, Buck pulls a pillow down and situates it under your hips, putting you where he wants you.

“Want you to feel me as deep as possible,” he murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. “Won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You can only moan at the promise, praying he delivers. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat covering his sun kissed skin, making him glow in the moonlight like some sort of angel. Sent just for you.

Buck sets a steady rhythm, not too fast but just fast enough. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and you ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest at the idea of him with another woman, even in the past.

Now that you’ve had a taste of this, you don’t want to let it go.

He’s pressing kisses onto whatever skin he can reach - your neck, your collarbone, underneath your ear. His hips never cease, determined to get you both to where you need to be. When he hitches one of your legs over his waist, you can’t help but drop your head back, eyes fluttering shut at the new angle.

He tilts his hips upwards, and hits a spot that has you keening. Speech has left you, and all you can do now is take it like you were made for it.

“Right there? Yeah? That’s it, isn’t it?”

You nod frantically, sucking in a shuddering breath like you’ve been under water. Your legs have started to shake, and Buck’s grinning when he thinks about how far he can push you before you’re at your limit.

“Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You’re so close you can taste it, desperate to find this release that’s been building for the last forty eight hours. When Buck moves his hand from your hip to your throat and squeezes just slightly, you snap.

You’re coming with a breathless moan, back arching into him to plaster your fronts together.

“Shit, you look so beautiful when you come. Jesus.”

You manage a soft smile, looking up at him to see those bright eyes staring into yours. He looks entranced, as if he’s staring at a piece in an art gallery. You swipe his hair back from his sweaty forehead, teasing your thumb across his bottom lip. When he sucks it into his mouth, your jaw drops open, mind foggy with arousal.

“Think you can give me another one? Let me see you come all pretty again?” he asks around your digit, tongue laving over your skin.

“Mhmm,” you’re agreeing before you can even process it, eager to please.

“That’s my girl.”

He moves your fingers from his mouth back into his hair as his find your throat once more, applying a little pressure. His hips pick up their pace, faster and harder than before. He’s fucking you into the mattress, strong arms keeping you from sliding off the bed.

He looks breathtaking, on top of you like this. He’s so broad, towering over you like he’ll shield you from the entire world if he has to. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the whole universe, unbothered by anything or anyone else.

“Buck- I… I-”

“I know, baby. Can feel it. Atta girl.”

You pull him down to kiss you as you reach your third climax of the night, arms wrapping around his neck so every inch of you is pressed together.

“There we go, good girl. That’s it, yeah. It’s yours, baby. It’s all yours.”

Buck finally finds his release, triggered by yours. His head drops into your neck, his frantic breath tickling your skin. You murmur sweet nothings into his ear, talking him through it as he shudders and shakes. Eventually, he collapses completely onto you, body weight pinning you down.

You’re both heaving for air, lungs burning as you try to regain an ounce of composure.

He murmurs something into your shoulder, the vibrations of it rumbling through your bones.

“Hmm?”

“You called me Buck.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, silvery and melodic.

“I’ve been trying not to for two days.”

“I know. You thought you were making a point.”

“I was making a point.”

“Sure, honey. Sure.”

“I hate you,” you grumble, but you can’t wipe the grin off your face. “I also hate that we’ve just made Lucy and Danny the happiest people ever.”

“Oh, shit. I hate it when they’re right.”

He pulls his head from your neck to look at you, resting his cheek against your chest so he can gaze up and into your eyes.

“I’m sure we can keep this a secret for a little while.”

“Yeah… we can’t.”

You quirk your brow at him in a silent question.

“I told Danny I was gonna marry you the minute you walked into the rehearsal dinner in that red dress. Can’t hide how I feel about you, gorgeous. It’s physically impossible.”

You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp.

“Take me on a date first. Then we’ll talk about marriage, okay?”

“You did say forever, earlier.”

“That I did. Maybe my heart knew something my brain didn’t.”

Buck grins up at you, all blinding and giddy.

“The best man and the maid of honour, huh?”

“That old cliche,” you chuckle. “We weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”

“You’ll be my last, gorgeous.”

“Real smooth, Buck. Real smooth.”

“Buck,” he whispers, half in amusement, half in awe.

He could get used to this. You both could.

as always, reblogs are like gold to writers. if you enjoyed this, please reblog!! it’s invaluable <3

@peachysink @jjamjamie @alipap3 @spookyysinsanity @sophiah2253 @annaaaaanguyenn

[randomwritingss]

I'll take some of these for Jim Street and Buck

angsty (romantic + platonic) dialogue prompts

@celestialwrites for more!!

♡ "it took you almost 4 years to fully trust me, and it took you all of one minute to stop."

♡ "do not waste your breath with lies, for once tell me the damned truth."

♡ "i have always wanted the good, the bad, and the ugly from you! i never wanted you to hide."

♡ "do you not get it? we don't ever get a happy ending, we don't ever go home!"

♡ "tell me you didn't, i do not care if it's a lie, just tell me you didn't."

♡ "you are a part of me and i cannot stand it."

♡ "don't waste away a life that was never yours. it was always hers."

♡ "every second i spend in pain without (s/o) is better than any day i spent not knowing them."

♡ "your tears will not bring him back." "fuck you."

♡ "that may just happen to be your gravest mistake, you thought you could fix her."

♡ "look me in the eye and say it. say it! say they're dead!"

♡ "i will be the greatest loss of your life."

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS<3

[randomwritingss]

I love this so much 💗

Close the Space

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!marketing agent!reader

Summary: When your life is threatened, your manager hires round-the-clock protection against your wishes. Despite your attempts to create space between yourself and your temporary bodyguard Jim Street, he closes it and makes you see the world as you never have before.

Warnings: canon typical violence and danger, brief angst, death threats, minor injuries, I don't know how long blowouts take, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“…seeing as you’re semi-famous and have received an influx of disturbing threats,” your manager continues.

“Wait, semi-famous?” you repeat. “I don’t think that’s a thing. And if the threats are so disturbing, why don’t you just call the police?”

“Because le diable lisse won’t take kindly to that.”

“Le diable lisse?” you ask, incredulous. “What is this, a 1960s movie?”

“You are in danger,” your manager snaps. “And, right now, I don’t care your opinion. You are getting round-the-clock protection.”

You sigh, then murmur, “It’s not necessary.”

“You…” Your manager sighs, then concludes, “It’s not a debate.”

“Hey, Deac, hold up,” Street calls as they prepare to exit the locker room. “I’ve been saving up for a new bike, and I almost have enough, but with OT getting cut, I’m looking for a way to make some extra cash.”

“I’m not letting you babysit my kids,” Deacon replies.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that even if you asked – kidding. I was wondering if your security gig was hiring, or if you could get me a one-time thing?”

“Let me talk to Buck,” Deacon offers. “I’ll see what we’ve got going on and let you know.”

“Thank you, Deacon.”

“Guys, we gotta go,” Hondo calls. “Le diable lisse just took an entire restaurant hostage.”

“Le diable lisse, the smooth devil,” Hicks explains, “is apparently back from his trip to Lyon and is looking to bring more of his family history back to LA.”

“More trafficking?” Luca inquires.

“Suspected, amongst other things.”

“Our bigger concern is the new extortion ring,” Deacon says. “Since his return flight, which landed at LAX at 2100 hours two nights ago, he and his crew have amassed an estimated $3 million through extortion.”

“Which is a white-collar crime,” Hondo points out. “Why jump to hostage taking?”

“If we knew the answer to that, we wouldn’t need a SWAT team,” Hicks interjects. “Too many possibilities.”

“Which restaurant?”

“The Little Door. Outdoor security cameras put five civilians inside plus the staff, so roughly twenty-five hostages,” Deacon explains.

“And le diable lisse is inside now?” Street asks.

“As far as we know.”

“Then let’s go get him,” Tan exhorts.

Deacon’s phone rings, and he raises his brows before he shows the screen to Hondo and Hicks.

“Buck?” Hondo asks. “What’s he want?”

Deacon shrugs before he answers the call. “Hey, Buck… Whoa, when?... In LA?... Ridgeview Country, Shadow Mountain… Yeah, I got it. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Ridgeview Country Estates?” Hicks repeats. “Le diable lisse has property there: a small vineyard.”

“He’s not in the restaurant,” Deacon says. “He’s making threats against a civilian.”

He taps the tablet a few times before your picture appears on the screen. Deacon says your name, then adds, “She works in marketing, is picky about her clients, but managed to make a name for herself by collaborating with a few of the brands she represents.”

“Let me guess, Mexican restaurants, which our French boy doesn’t like,” Hondo jokes.

“It’s mostly specialty apparel,” Hicks reads from the computer.

“Expensive, then,” Tan deduces.

“Yes, but not designer, specialty. It’s athletic and first-responder clothing designed to protect the wearer. She’s done marketing for a few commercial chains, some skincare and publishers, but nothing that should’ve landed her on French organized crime’s radar,” Street says. “There’s more to this.”

“We can go talk to her manager after the hostage recovery,” Deacon suggests. “She’s with Buck now.”

“Commander?” Hondo asks.

“Yeah, let’s follow Deac’s lead on this,” Hicks agrees.

“Let’s roll out!”

“Any idea why someone would be threatening you?” Buck Spivey asks. “Or who?”

“No clue,” you answer, setting your phone on the table before you. “Despite what my manager Erin may have told you, I’m nobody.”

“Your net worth is climbing. Hourly. That makes you somebody,” Buck’s partner, Owen, says.

“Maybe someone didn’t like how the uniform they ordered fit, or the skincare gave them a rash,” you offer. “I truly have no idea.”

“We’re looking into a few leads,” Owen assures you. “Until then, we agree with your manager and are going to provide 24/7 executive protection.”

“Absolutely not,” you argue. “I am a grown woman; I don’t need to be babysat because there is potentially going to be danger.”

“It’s not permanent,” Erin says. “It’s for your safety, and when the person is identified, your life can go back to normal.”

“Terrific,” you deadpan. “Find somebody, then, but I make no guarantee that I’ll do anything they ask of me.”

“Don’t doubt that one bit,” Owen mumbles to Buck.

“He’s not talking,” Hondo says as he exits the interrogation room. “Clearly works for our smooth devil, though, so we can assume he’s responsible for the distraction at the restaurant and he’s close. Any update from Buck?”

“Street’s on his way over there now,” Deacon replies. “He and Owen think he’s targeting our marketing executive for something she may have seen or heard, but nothing solid.”

“You trust Street to do this?”

“Trust me,” Deacon says, smiling.

“Oh, I like that smile, man. Tell me more.”

“Well, according to Owen,” Deacon begins.

“Hi, I’m Jim Street,” Street says, offering his hand.

You say your name, shake his hand, and return to your laptop. “Help yourself to whatever, or leave your choice.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Street closes your door and locks it before he looks around. You try to ignore him in your periphery, but you don’t want a bodyguard, and an off-duty cop seems even worse.

“Look,” you call, spinning in your desk chair. “I don’t think you need to be here, and I have a presentation in the morning, so if you could just… stop. I would really appreciate it.”

Street takes several breaths before he asks, “You’re receiving death threats and want me to stop?”

“They’re threats, just words.”

“You’re in marketing. You should know better than anyone that words carry a lot more than meaning.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert in marketing, too? Well, maybe you should just take my job then since you seem prepared to deal with every aspect of my life.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Street defends.

You know that, but you are still vehemently against the idea of having him at your side 24/7 because some lunatic slipped a few pieces of paper into your mailbox, under your door, and into your car. So, you can give Street a hard time, you think. Especially considering he’s here for no good reason.

“I have to make a call,” you say.

As you stand, Street moves toward you.

“In private.”

“I’ll wait in the hall,” Street says.

“This isn’t exactly a conversation I’d like to have you overhearing.”

“Then I won’t listen, but I have to be close enough to assist you if something happens.”

You sigh dramatically, then lead Street toward your bedroom. Locking the door behind you, you hum to yourself as you consider your options. The window opens, and attic access in your closet, so there’s no excuse to continue feeling like a prisoner in your home.

“If you go out the window, the guy watching your driveway will see you,” Street calls through the door. “And attic access leads to the guest bedroom, right? So, I’d see you come out.”

“Why would I leave?” you reply. “It’s my house.”

“Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Pressing your fist against the wall, you wonder if there’s a better way to get space than lying about a phone call or showering.

When you emerge from the bedroom nearly an hour later with a fresh blowout, Street looks up from his seated position and tilts his head to the side.

“Important call?” he repeats.

“The call of beauty can’t be sent to voicemail,” you reply. “I’m going to make lunch.”

Street nods as he stands, and knowing he’s behind you makes you itch to run out the front door and not stop. Somewhere inside of you, you understand that he’s looking out for you, and the threats probably do have some truth in them, but you feel like a caged animal and don’t want to be watched.

“Hicks.”

Hondo raises his head as Commander Hicks answers his phone, and he stands straighter when Hicks demands, “What? How?!”

“What is it, Commander?” Hondo asks.

“Patrol just lost sight of le diable lisse,” Hicks replies. “North of Pacific Palisades.”

“That’s headed toward Street,” Hondo realizes.

“Call him,” Hicks commands. “And find out where Luca and Tan are, we need to get eyes on this guy right now!”

Street’s phone rings, and when he turns around to answer it, you open the cabinet that doubles as a hidden entry into your pantry. Slipping inside, you sigh at the privacy it offers. After you push yourself onto the counter, you cross your legs and pull your favorite snack from the shelf above you.

“Yeah, she’s right here,” Street says, turning toward the kitchen. He says your name, steps forward, and calls your name again. “She was just here!”

“Find her, Street,” Deacon demands, pushing his gas pedal to the floor. “I’m alerting Owen now.”

“Yeah.”

Street ends the call and begins running through your house, searching every place you have hidden already. It’s a nice house, but it’s not huge, and each empty room Street finds increases his worry that you left.

Five minutes later, he returns to the kitchen and realizes that the food you are making is gone. Wherever you are, you either took the food with you or managed to put it up in less than thirty seconds while he spoke to Deacon.

Street begins opening cabinets, hoping to find you under the sink or at the other end of the island but growing concerned that he won’t find you. When he pulls the cabinet beside the fridge, he doesn’t expect it to open like a full-sized door. He sees cabinets lining a wall before him and tenses his jaw as he enters the butler’s pantry.

You’re seated on the counter, eating a snack, and Street can’t stop himself from yelling your name. You look up quickly and press a hand to your heart.

“I have been looking for you everywhere!” he exclaims, pointing toward the door.

“Oh, Street,” you reply airily. “What a coincidence. I have been avoiding you everywhere!”

“I’m done playing into the game everyone is where they tell you half the story and expect you to comply with basic instructions,” Street seethes. “You are in danger. Real, serious danger. There is a lunatic out there threatening to come into your house in the middle of the night and make you beg for your life before he takes it. And, if my team is right, that lunatic is on his way here right now. So, listen to me for a few measly hours and then I will be out of your hair!”

You knew that Street was getting tired of your attempts to get space. Though you were admittedly entertained by his reactions and expressions when you returned, the reality of your situation is now blindingly apparent.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, sliding off the counter. “What do you want me to do?”

Street’s shoulders drop before he says, “You actually might’ve been onto something. Stay in here, okay?”

“I will.”

Street returns to the entry, and you repeat, “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I’ll let you make it up to me with some new clothes.”

You send him a closed-lip smile, then sink to the floor to wait for the danger to pass. It was easier when you didn’t know what was really happening, you think, but that ignorance led you to make it hard for people to protect you. Maybe, you realize, it was also an excuse to mess with Street because he was so close, and you didn’t know what else to do.

You aren’t sure how much time passes before the cabinet is pulled open slowly.

“Street?” you whisper.

“Close,” someone else says.

A man you recognize from a marketing meeting that did not go well steps inside, and a large, shiny gun at his side catches your attention. He smiles as you push yourself to your feet and scramble away from him.

“End of the road, fraude,” he coos.

Before he steps toward you, someone kicks him in the back, sending him crashing into your countertop as his gun clatters to the floor. Destin – whose name you didn’t remember until he said the name of the company he wanted you to promote, End of the Road – turns quickly. Street moves into the narrow space before he can do anything else. You see blood on Street’s cheek, and his knuckles are red. Now, you aren’t really worried about yourself.

“Stay down,” someone demands behind Street.

He stumbles away from Destin and toward you, as two SWAT officers pull Destin to his feet and out of your kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Street asks, breathing heavily.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

You gently cup Street’s face in your hands and tilt his jaw so you can see his face. A small cut beneath his eyebrow is likely the result of the gaudy ring Destin was wearing. Otherwise, Street seems fine.

“It’s okay,” Street replies softly, raising his hand to wrap around your wrist.

The house falls silent, and you’re so close to Street – closer than you have been. When you realize that you created space because you really wanted to close it, you don’t hesitate to kiss Street. He hums into the kiss, then moves his hands to your waist to pull you closer. Moving with him, you can’t imagine running away from him again.

“That didn’t feel like avoiding me,” Street points out as you step back.

“I’m really glad you’re not my bodyguard anymore,” you reply.

“Me too.”

“You were annoying,” you add. “In a cute way, I guess.”

“I prefer protective. And, just for that, I’m going to need an entire outfit – boots included – from your new Motorcross racing gear line.”

“You know what I market?” you ask, smiling.

“What we don’t know is why you were targeted,” Street says.

“I wouldn’t market his… manifesto? I don’t know what he wanted me to market, but his company, End of the Road, is 100% doing illegal business.”

“Oh, I’m aware.”

“Sorry I made your job so hard.”

Street looks down at your hands on his chest, then at his hands on your waist, then back up to your face. “It might’ve been worth it.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” you ask, leaning closer to him.

Street pulls you close and kisses you again before saying something that sounds like: “This,” against your lips.

[randomwritingss]

Fast & Furious - J. Street (S.W.A.T)

summary: an old case from jim's time in long beach brings you back together. (based on season 1)

when i got the call from my boss that i was wanted down at lapd swat headquarters i didn't know what to think, but he assured me that it was to help on a case, i just couldn't comprehend what case that long beach pd and lapd could have in common until i laid eyes on him and then i knew exactly which case it was.

"(y/n)? what are you doing here?"

"let me guess you're the one swat officer undercover with the street racers i've been after."

jim smiled as he came over to me, and we wrapped our arms around each other. jim and i were partners on patrol while he was with long beach pd and honestly i was suprised to hear that he made it to lapd swat because he was kind of a hot head back then, but it had been a few years since i worked with him so he might of changed. he was still one of the best partners i've had over the years.

"guilty. i didn't know you were on the case."

i nodded as we pulled away from each other.

"took over a bunch of peter's cases when i made detective."

he nodded.

"so tell me all about your adventures brian o'connor."

jim gave me a confused look and my mouth dropped.

"don't tell me you've never seen the fast and furious movies?"

he shook his head and i rolled my eyes.

"after all this is done, i'm making you watch them."

"how many are there?"

"you must be the detective from long beach."

i turned around and gave a smile at the man standing in front of me and held out my hand.

"detective (y/l/n)"

he shook my hand and returned my smile.

"sergeant harelson. but you can call me hondo."

"(y/n)."

he nodded and let go of my hand before he crossed his arms across his chest.

"i would of looped you in sooner if this one would of called me before he decided to head back undercover."

i nodded as i looked over at jim.

"still a hot head i see."

"wait, you two know each other?"

i nodded as i looked back over at hondo.

"yeah, street and i were partners for three years on patrol."

"i'm sorry."

i chuckled.

"okay, okay. i'm not that bad come on guys."

hondo and i both nodded at each other and jim rolled his eyes.

"so what's the play here?"

"best option would be to keep jim undercover, but i can totally understand if that doesn't work for you."

"i'll clear it with the commander."

i nodded.

"let me get up to speed on the case with jim and i'll probably use your team if you don't mind sergeant."

he nodded.

"as much of a pain in my ass street is, he's still family. anything you need. i'll go talk to commander hick."

i nodded before i turned my attention back over to street.

"okay so lay it on me."

the next hour or so was spent going over the case with street and after that it was go time to hopefully close one of my way too many open cases.

the op kind of went hay wire for a minute but luckily jim made it almost unscaved. he was gloating as he walked back into swat headquarters with the rest of his team which were a huge help on this case.

"we make a pretty good team huh?"

everyone congratulated him and others praised him for still being alive and i watched from afar as he face lite up with pride and happiness and i realized that maybe the same crush that i had on jim all those years ago was still there.

i smiled up at jim as he walked over to me.

"always have."

he nodded as hondo walked over to us.

"great work detective."

"you have a great team sergeant. truly every one of your officers are amazing people and amazing at what they do."

he nodded.

"if you ever want to make the switch to lapd let me know, i'd definitely write you a recommendation letter."

i nodded.

"thank you sergeant, means a lot."

he nodded as he patted street on the shoulder as he walked off and jim smiled.

"you ever think about it?"

i furrowed my eyebrows.

"what?"

"transferring to lapd."

"never crossed my mind before."

he nodded.

"you should think about it. it would be fun to have you around. i missed you."

i smiled.

"i missed you too street."

jim nodded as he wrapped his arms around my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug and i smiled as i laid my head on his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist.

the rest of my day was spent writing up paperwork, and i quickly changed into some leggings, a long beach pd sweater, and some running shoes that i had in my duffle bag. by the time i headed outside, it was dark, and i hadn't even realized that it was that late already.

"(y/n) wait up."

i stopped walking and looked back at jim who was running over to me.

"what are you still doing here?"

"ok so i figured out there were six fast and the furious movies?"

"seven."

"ahh. well i've already ordered us some pizza and i've got a six pack of beer in my fridge, what do you say?"

i smiled.

"lead the way."

he smiled as he walked over to his bike while i ducked inside my car and followed street to his apartment. i parked my car behind him and we headed inside and i smiled as we walked inside.

"so this is your bachelor pad?"

"how do you know i'm single?"

"you think i didn't ask your team what was going on in your life?"

jim nodded.

"fair enough. what about you? how's jason?"

"ended things a few months ago."

he nodded as he handed me a beer which he had dug out of his fridge.

"called off the engagement? wow."

"don't act so surprised you always thought he was wrong for me."

"yeah but you never listened to me."

i shrugged as i followed jim to the couch and sat down beside him.

"i guess i just needed to figure out for myself."

he nodded.

"you know i've always had a thing for you."

"really?"

jim nodded as he took a swing of his beer and i smiled to myself.

"then why didn't you ever do anything about it?"

jim shrugged.

"we were partners. and i know that being a women and a cop is hard enough i didn't want to over complicate things for you."

i nodded.

"you know were not partners anymore and i'd say i've proven myself career wise."

jim looked over at me and furrowed his eyebrows.

"so what are you saying?"

i shrugged as i brought the bottle of beer up to my lip.

"i'm saying that i've always had a thing for you too jim street."

jim smiled as i took a drink of my beer.

"is this our first date?"

i chuckled as the doorbell was rang.

"hold that thought."

i nodded as jim pushed himself up off the couch and headed for the door and came back with a pizza which he sat on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"where were we?"

"i think you were trying to ask me out on a date?"

jim smiled.

"i don't think i could top this even if i tried. this is pretty great first date don't you think?"

i nodded.

"you're right. fancy restaurant are way too overrated anyways."

jim nodded and smiled.

"i'm calling it, this is officially our first date."

i smiled.

"okay lover boy, can we get some pizza now, i'm starving."

jim smiled as he pulled open the pizza box and handed me a slice and i smiled as i settled on the couch beside him with his arm wrapped around my shoulder.

the right people always find their way back to you no matter what.

[randomwritingss]

cut out the part where he says my name so i could post this clip…. why is it so hot

[randomwritingss]

Somehow, this was posted, and it's done now!

Jim Street x Reader

Prompt: "You never seemed to really like me." "But I never hated you either." "Don't look at me like that, I'm trying to be serious right now." Also trapped in an elevator 😂😂

For whatever reason, you and Street never got along. He was either always too reckless and generally uncaring, or he cared too much. Either way, it rubbed you the wrong way. Everyone knew it, too. Hondo usually made sure not to have you two together in the field if he could help it.

That brought you to today. Most of the team had to work on a high-profile case while you and Street had to chase a lead. You had grumbled to Deacon about it, mainly because you always saw him as a father figure more than anything. "Don't kill him." Deacon chuckled, patting your back as he walked out.

You groaned and walked out to the motor pool where Street awaited you, "Nice of you to join me finally." He says sarcastically, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm not enjoying this anymore than you are." You bite, climbing into the car. As he climbs in, he doesn't say anything. The silence is somewhat comfortable as he drives. You're messing with the iPad, looking over the information.

Unbeknownst to you, Street looks over at you more than a few times. He hates how he can't figure you out. Sometimes, you act like you hate him; others, it's like you're friends.

The building comes up quickly as he drives. As he parks, neither of you says a word. Even the walk into the building, into the elevator, is quiet.

After a few moments, the elevator comes to a halt, making you both groan. Street looks at you and states, "Looks like the elevator is stuck."

You chuckle and roll your eyes, "Really? Didn't notice," you reply sarcastically.

Street rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, eyes narrowing on you. "Was that necessary?"

"Maybe, yeah," you reply, crossing your arms.

"You never seemed to like me," he states, his voice twinged with an indescribable emotion; hurt, maybe?

You laugh at this, shaking your head, replying, "But, I never hated you, either." And it's true, you never did hate him; the opposite is true. You've loved him since you met him, but he was with Molly, and you just never figured you'd tell him.

He snorts in laughter and shakes his head, "Sure didn't seem like it from where I was standing."

You falter for a moment, "I'm sorry," It's a rare moment of sincerity, but you still mean it. Street looks at you with an incredulous look, making you huff and roll your eyes, "Don't look at me like that. I'm trying to be serious."

He chuckles, "Well, forgive me, yeah? This is a rare moment."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. "I think the reason I acted like I disliked you was because I liked you so much, and I... I figured you didn't feel the same. So better to keep myself at arm's length than to get hurt," you say, sighing and rubbing your face. It was true, you really did like him.

Street shakes his head again, mirroring your stance, "What on earth made you think that I didn't feel the same?" He asks, taking a step closer to you.

You shrug, "I mean, I'm me."

He chuckles, though it's a dry sound, as he approaches you. "For someone so beautiful, you sure look down on yourself," he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

The gesture makes your eyes widen before you melt into the kiss, putting your hands on his chest and kissing him back. You both take your time with the kiss; it doesn't deepen much, but it still causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

You pull back before he does, "Jim.."

He leans his forehead against yours, "I really like you, and damnit, I'm tired of hiding it."

You smile up at him, "I'm tired of hiding, too."

From that moment, you both stopped hiding behind the walls you had built. No one was really surprised when you started acting nicer to Street.

They were, however, surprised when you both said you were together.

[randomwritingss]

Can you do a buck x reader where the reader and buck are married but she gets amnesia and only doesn't remember buck and their relationship. But it ends with fluff

where’s my mind?

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: you wake up in a hospital bed surrounded by your family and friends, but amnesia took away the memory of your husband, what’s Buck gonna do?

word count: 2,1k

author’s note: thanks to an anon for this request, I hope you all enjoy it, because I definitely had fun writing it 🫧 p.s. requests are open

“Yes baby, I will be home in 10 minutes, just had to stop at a gas station otherwise I wouldn’t make it.” — you say over the phone and sigh. Your day was long enough, of course it couldn’t end well, something had to make it a bit longer.

“Okay love, be safe.” — you hear Buck’s voice and smile. Who would have thought that after four years of dating – you can finally call this man your husband? The past three months of being married were so wonderful, you had everything you dreamed of. “I love you.”

“I love you too, see you soon!” — you smiled again and hung up the phone.

Well, this gas station definitely looks a bit shady, but it was the only one near and you really needed to get some gas.

It was 11 p.m., streets are getting emptier, and flashlights are the only source of seeing something in this darkness. You felt shivers down your spine and thought that it’s time to go home, you didn’t like this place.

Your hand reaches for the car door to get into the driver's seat. But this never happens. Instead, you feel a blow to your head so hard that the only thing you remember is falling to the ground and darkness. If someone got a reward for the most unfortunate end of the day, you would get it today.

Next thing you know, you wake up in a hospital and you try to properly open your eyes, but the light in the hospital is so bright that you squint for the first few minutes. You feel someone is sitting next to you and you turn your head in their direction. It was Maddie.

“Maddie? W-what happened?” — you finally speak and don’t recognize your voice. The voice is so hoarse, quiet and low.

“Oh (Y/N), you’re finally awake.” — Maddie said with a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re fine now, you got attacked at a gas station and had a concussion.” — she took your hand and squeezed it. “I’m gonna tell Buck you’re awake, he just left to buy some coffee. He will be so happy.” — one more smile from her and she left your room.

“Buck? Who’s that?” — you think to yourself and get confused. “Maybe it’s a doctor or something.”

A man runs into your room with a relieved look on his face. You assumed it was Buck. But you really can’t remember his face. Maybe it’s Maddie’s friend or a doctor she knows, she's a former nurse after all.

“Hi baby, I’m so glad you’re awake.” — he rushed to sit next to your bed, took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on it. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but do I know you? I can’t remember if I ever saw you.” — the confusion is written on your face, you furrowed your brows and looked at him.

But Buck just laughed and smiled at you. You always liked to call him “sir” to tease him. He had no idea why you did that, but he secretly liked it, it made you look cocky.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, but I’m getting quite uncomfortable by my hand being kissed by a stranger. You better explain.” — you said that and pulled your hand out of his. Why does he think that he has some privilege to do that?

Then Buck realized. You don’t remember him. He felt like his world fell apart in one second. Everything they had been building for almost 5 years just disappeared. Your eyes were saying everything. There’s no love, affection and fondness in them. You didn’t look at him like he was the most important person in your life anymore.

“Maddie, can you explain? This man seems too stunned to speak.” — you said annoyingly, because no one gives any answers.

“(Y/N), I’m Buck, your husband.” — he said with so much pain that for a moment you thought that it’s you who’s acting stupid.

You couldn't lose your memory like that, could you? You remember everyone except your husband. Oh god, you're married, you probably have a house together, lots of plans for the future, but you don't remember anything.

Your head starts to hurt a lot from all the information that doesn't seem real. You look at Maddie and you see that tears are starting to form in her eyes. You see Hen standing outside the door of the room and talking to the doctor. The saddest look you've ever seen is on her face. Everyone remembers everything, why can't you remember?

The doctor comes into your room and gives you a little smile. This smile didn’t say "it's good that you woke up", this smile said "hang on, you have a lot of surprises ahead."

“So, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley, I have some news that I need to share. (Y/N) experienced a severe blow to the head, which led to dissociative amnesia, due to which she may forget something or someone specific in her life.” — so it’s true, you did forget your husband. How long have you two been together? How many good memories did you forget?

“What can we do?” — Buck said, pursing his lips. He took your hand again and squeezed it. This news shocked him, he wasn't ready for it, but he knows for sure that he is ready to do everything in his power to make you remember him.

“The best thing you can all do is put her in the environment where she has been for the last 5 years. Guide her slowly and carefully tell her the events she has forgotten. Memories can come in flashes and this is normal, it means that she remembers and after a while she will remember everything. But I must warn you that there is a chance that she will not remember anything.” — the doctor said and gave Buck a soft look. Unfortunately, he has to deal with many cases of amnesia and the hardest thing is to see the patient's family and know that they don't have the slightest idea what to do next. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to check on another patient.”

There is a chance that she will not remember anything. These words ring in Buck's head. What if she really doesn't remember anything? Would he have to win her love all over again? Would he have to propose to her again? Will they have to build everything again for another 5 years?

2 months later

The door opens. You came back from grocery shopping. Apparently, this is the house that you and Buck moved into after your wedding. Home sweet home, only you don't feel at home. You remember that you lived alone, there wasn't even a man on the horizon that you liked, turns out you're already married.

Buck is very sweet, he hasn't left your side for a second since you woke up. He showed you pictures of you together. Here you are at Bobby's birthday party, here you saw Jee for the first time, here you are at Chim and Maddie’s hospital wedding, here you are spending a free day at the beach. And you could remember those events, but you don't remember living them with Buck.

Yesterday Buck told you that you were supposed to fly to Europe together for the first time in 2 weeks. It's been your dream all your life and Buck was happy to make it a reality. He was happy to share memories with you that would keep you both warm in the future. But the trip will have to be canceled, because he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“I know it’s a lot and you probably want to run away, but listen, I’m here if you need me. I know you don’t remember me, but I remember everything and my love will be enough for both of us for now.” — Buck put the bags on the floor and came over to you. He stopped in front of you and didn't know how to behave. He wanted to kiss you, but would it be too much? He wanted to hug you, but wouldn't that scare you off?

Seeing how he hesitated, you hugged him yourself. You hugged him to you as hard as you could. The thing is, you were very scared. But Buck instilled a sense of security, he was your safe place. You didn't remember him, but your body remembered exactly how to react to him. And you trusted that instinct.

So far, you have agreed to sleep in separate bedrooms. You didn't want to rush things, and he didn't want to push you. So when night fell, you said goodnight to each other and went to your rooms.

You lay down on the bed and put your head on the pillow, it smelled like Buck. His cologne, his shower gel, the whole room seemed to be filled with him. You looked at the bedside table and saw a photo of you together. So happy and beautiful, in the photo you were somewhere in the park.

“I promise I will remember you. For us.” — you said quietly to yourself and fell asleep.

It was a beautiful sunny day. You look at yourself in the mirror and you're wearing an amazing wedding dress. Your hair, makeup, jewelry — all this made you feel like a princess.

“Athena, I’m so nervous, I don't think I will remember my vows.” — you turned around to Athena while she was preparing your veil.

“(Y/N), you and Buck have been preparing for this wedding for six months, if something goes wrong, it will definitely be Chim that got into some shit again.” — she laughed and took your hand.

“Listen, don't memorize your vows, speak from the heart. Remember how he makes you feel, remember his every look and touch, remember how he looks at you. And don't forget to add his nickname at the end. What do you always call him?” — Athena looked into your eyes and smiled. She knew for sure that your vows would be perfect.

“Light of my life.”

You woke up and were breathing heavily. It was a flashback from your wedding. Of course, you always called him "light of my life." Because he saved you from the darkest stage of your life.

You had your favorite white tulips at the wedding. Buck wanted everyone to come in colorful outfits, but you insisted on a dress code. And the cake ended up being 5 times bigger than you expected, so at the end of the day you handed it out to each guest, so they could eat it at home.

You remembered. Panic began to take over your whole body. Or is it just your love for your husband has returned and your body is responding to it?

You lifted the blanket, got out of bed, and hurried to the room where Buck sleeps. But he wasn't sleeping, you saw the light in his room and opened the door.

“Buck…” — you whispered and felt tears on your cheeks.

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” — Buck saw how panicked you were and rushed to stand next to you. He put his hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“Light of my life.”

He froze. Did you remember? Or is he dreaming? He didn’t want to move to not scare the reality. He just wanted to stay in this moment.

“You don't like oranges, so we immediately told the pastry chef not to offer us cakes with oranges. You really want children, so on our second date we started choosing names for our children. When you were struck by lightning, you pretended to be a Flash for 3 months, and when I dyed my hair and didn't tell you about it, you started calling me because you didn't recognize me, even though I was standing next to you the whole time.” — you started rattling off the facts of your relationship quickly, as if you were afraid to forget, but you remembered everything.

You saw the tears in Buck's eyes and started crying even harder. You couldn't even imagine what he was going through these two months while you didn't remember anything.

“I knew you would remember.” — he said and had the biggest smile on his face. “C-can I kiss you?”

“Please.” — you said it and pulled him to you for a kiss. So desirable for both of you.

“Don’t cancel Europe, we need more memories.”

Buck just laughed, picked you up and carried you to the bed. It's going to be a long night.

[randomwritingss]

Jim Street x Reader

Prompt: "You never seemed to really like me." "But I never hated you either." "Don't look at me like that, I'm trying to be serious right now." Also trapped in an elevator 😂😂

For whatever reason, you and Street never got along. He was either always too reckless and generally uncaring, or he cared too much. Either way, it rubbed you the wrong way. Everyone knew it, too. Hondo usually made sure not to have you two together in the field if he could help it.

That brought you to today. Most of the team had to work on a high-profile case while you and Street had to chase a lead. You had grumbled to Deacon about it, mainly because you always saw him as a father figure more than anything. "Don't kill him." Deacon chuckled, patting your back as he walked out.

You groaned and walked out to the motor pool where Street awaited you, "Nice of you to join me finally." He says sarcastically, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm not enjoying this anymore than you are." You bite, climbing into the car. As he climbs in, he doesn't say anything. The silence is somewhat comfortable as he drives. You're messing with the iPad, looking over the information.

Unbeknownst to you, Street looks over at you more than a few times. He hates how he can't figure you out. Sometimes, you act like you hate him; others, it's like you're friends.

The building comes up quickly as he drives. As he parks, neither of you says a word. Even the walk into the building, into the elevator, is quiet.

After a few moments, the elevator comes to a halt, making you both groan. Street looks at you and states, "Looks like the elevator is stuck."

You chuckle and roll your eyes, "Really? Didn't notice," you reply sarcastically.

Street rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, eyes narrowing on you. "Was that necessary?"

"Maybe, yeah," you reply, crossing your arms.

"You never seemed to like me," he states, his voice twinged with an indescribable emotion; hurt, maybe?

You laugh at this, shaking your head, replying, "But, I never hated you, either." And it's true, you never did hate him; the opposite is true. You've loved him since you met him, but he was with Molly, and you just never figured you'd tell him.

He snorts in laughter and shakes his head, "Sure didn't seem like it from where I was standing."

You falter for a moment, "I'm sorry," It's a rare moment of sincerity, but you still mean it. Street looks at you with an incredulous look, making you huff and roll your eyes, "Don't look at me like that. I'm trying to be serious."

He chuckles, "Well, forgive me, yeah? This is a rare moment."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. "I think the reason I acted like I disliked you was because I liked you so much, and I... I figured you didn't feel the same. So better to keep myself at arm's length than to get hurt," you say, sighing and rubbing your face. It was true, you really did like him.

Street shakes his head again, mirroring your stance, "What on earth made you think that I didn't feel the same?" He asks, taking a step closer to you.

You shrug, "I mean, I'm me."

He chuckles, though it's a dry sound, as he approaches you. "For someone so beautiful, you sure look down on yourself," he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

The gesture makes your eyes widen before you melt into the kiss, putting your hands on his chest and kissing him back. You both take your time with the kiss; it doesn't deepen much, but it still causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

You pull back before he does, "Jim.."

He leans his forehead against yours, "I really like you, and damnit, I'm tired of hiding it."

You smile up at him, "I'm tired of hiding, too."

From that moment, you both stopped hiding behind the walls you had built. No one was really surprised when you started acting nicer to Street.

They were, however, surprised when you both said you were together.

[randomwritingss]

how many drinks?

stiles stilinski x fem!reader NSFW

a dirty lunchroom hypothetical gets stiles hot and bothered. hopefully no one notices the suspicious placement of his hands over his crotch, especially not you.

word count: 2.8K  read time: 10min

warnings & info: nothing is in canon, everyone is probably ooc, pining, crushing!stiles, masturbation, spice, other suggestive nonsense

<_______>

“stiles, how many drinks would you have to down to fuck me?” you ask matter-of-factly, turning your head to meet your sentence’s subject from across your full lunch table.

“i said about twelve shots, at least,” scott states passively from your left side, not bothering to look up from his biology textbook.

“and i said, you don’t count. you couldn’t get drunk if you tried,” you sneer back. you turn your eyes back to stiles’s amber ones. “then lydia said like, five. i mean we’ve made out at parties before so…” you trail off with a sinful smile, exposing both your palms in the act of confession.

“i thought that was our little secret, y/n!” lydia feigns indignation at your right side, turning her head away from her boyfriend to pout her red lips at you in an exaggerated manner.

“when have you guys made out at a party?” jackson asks, almost licking his lips with excitement.

“you’re lucky she doesn’t swing that way, or it wouldn’t have just stopped at making out,” you snipe back. jackson’s face seems to loose all color at this sentiment and lydia rolls her eyes at you as she begins to reassure him in a quieter tone. you couldn’t stand his consistent pattern of insecurity, as evident by you asking such a personal question to your entire friend group in the middle of the lunch period, without a care in the world.

stiles is grateful that this bickering exchange took place quicker than he could answer your question. he’s also grateful that he’d already finished eating and naturally placed his hands in a clasp over his lap. he hadn’t realized how helpful that position would become, as he feels his blood rushing downward, something he was unfortunately used to happening around you.

there was the first time he saw you in a bikini at one of lydia’s summer parties. he was already in the pool when you came out of her house in the hot pink number and thus became trapped. unless he wanted to expose his aching hard-on to his entire friend group, (which was barely concealed under the paper-thin fabric of his fucking neon green swim trunks), he thought it’d be best to just stay in the water until he felt he could control himself. 

that time didn’t come until two hours later when you’d finally decided to change back into your clothes in lydia’s room. after cursing at himself for conjuring that mental image, (which did not help the uncomfortable throb of his too-hard cock), he finally went soft enough to get out of the damn pool and dry off. that was the day he crossed swimming off the list of activities he could do in your presence.

another time, stiles had tagged along with you and lydia as you went homecoming dress shopping. it was supposed to be a lot bigger of a group, but melissa had grounded scott for whatever indiscretion he’d committed that week, jackson had a mandatory family thing, allison & issac had opted out of hoco that year, the twins skipped town for a few days, all of your girlfriends were busy and all of lydia’s scoffed at her when she suggested buying a dress from the mall instead of a luxury boutique. 

lydia had disappeared into the jewelry section for a comical amount of time and then it was just you, modeling dress after dress for stiles. his jaw was clenched as he tried his best to keep his gaze focused on friend-appropriate areas of your body and will the blood to drain from his cock, which was poking uncomfortably against the seam of his jeans. 

you’d exited the changing room in a form-fitting red dress that ended just past your knees with a problem that stiles knew would further his arousal; you couldn’t zip your dress up on your own.

you’d easily let him inside the enclosed space, shooting down his dazed protests that he was pretty sure this store’s staff wouldn’t approve of two teenagers in a closed changing room together. you’d gathered your hair to one side and turned around, and stiles had felt all the air leave his lungs. 

this dress’s zipper started at your tailbone so the entirety of your back was exposed to him, causing his erection to pulse, almost painfully now. he approached you slowly, his hands shaking as one of them gripped the tiny metallic zipper. he placed the other one’s open, sweaty palm on the fabric over your shoulder, being careful to not grip down. as he started to tug on the zipper it was giving him a lot more resistance than he expected. 

you ordered him to stand closer and pull harder, as the dress was tight and wouldn’t close easily. stiles had complied and tried his best to keep his brain from melting out of his ears at this entirely unexpected close contact. he had been even less successful at keeping the precum from leaking from his cock, which was now screaming at him to close the short distance between you two. when the dress was finally zipped up and you turned to face him, his face was bright red and he breathlessly excused himself to the bathroom.

stiles needed a release and couldn’t wait until he got back home; this shopping trip was already hours long and he couldn’t stand to be this hard around you for even another second. so he dropped his pants in the first open stall he saw and wrapped his shaking hand around his cock, pumping desperately. 

he pictured that silver zipper moving in reverse, downwards, and then the dress being removed entirely, forgotten on his bedroom floor as he explored more of your skin than he’d ever seen before. he came nauseatingly quickly, in one thick spurt that he’d actually had the forethought to aim into the toilet. 

as he came down from his rushed orgasm, stiles gave himself a few more slow pumps from his well-experienced right hand and it finally dawned on him how pathetically perverted he was. that he had to resort to jacking off in the stall of a mall restroom to be able to function around you for the rest of the day. he’d vowed never to go shopping with you again.

“i’d say i’d need a solid seven or so,” allison muses, clearly giving the prospect some thought, “if it weren’t for him, obviously,” she smiles sweetly at her boyfriend’s brooding figure.

“my girlfriend is a connoisseur of deadly weapons, so i’m staying out of this,” issac continues modestly, leaning in to kiss allison on the cheek. the gesture is sweet but also definitively off topic, so you turn your gaze to the twins.

“sweetheart, if i could get drunk, i’d need to be blackout to sleep with you. i haven’t looked at a girl since i discovered young leo dicaprio in like, the fourth grade,” ethan retorts playfully.

“if i could get drunk, i’d only need like, three drinks to fuck you,” aiden chimes in boldly, wagging his eyebrows suggestively at you. you deadpan at him.

“that wouldn’t count even if you weren’t a werewolf; you’d fuck anything with a pulse and two X chromosomes,” you drawl venomously. for the upteenth time, you turn your eyes back to stiles.

“stiles, please. you’re the only guy at this table that isn’t taken or a cursed-to-be-sober werewolf. how many shots would you have to take to fuck me? i’m just curious; i won’t be offended if the answer is like, fifty,” you chuckle.

stiles chuckles as well, for an entirely different reason. his dick is rock-hard in his sweatpants and you think it might take him fifty shots to want to fuck you? now that’s laughable.

of course, he can’t tell you the real answer, which is a resounding zero. he would want to fuck you after a night of blissful sleep, completely stone-cold sober, at nine o’clock in the morning but if he said that you’d almost certainly sic the literal pack of wolves at this table on him. he searches his mind for an acceptable number of drinks that would make it ok for him to reveal he wants to fuck you when his friends suddenly chime in, their comments snowballing into an avalanche that threatens to bury stiles alive.

“come on stiles, y/n’s hot. surely it wouldn’t take that many,” lydia goads in a sing-song voice.

oh i’m aware that y/n is hot. i’m so aware, lydia, that most nights i moan her name out loud as i cum into my hand.

“yeah, you’re a teenage boy. all teenage boys are stupidly horny,” allison chimes in, backing up her friend as she shoots wild eyes at issac, clearly aware of this trait in her own boyfriend.

all teenage boys are stupidly horny, allison, and i am stupidly horny for y/n, thanks for seeing right through me.

“that’s true,” issac concurs with a mischievous smile.

“can’t argue with that,” scott agrees with a slight nod.

“glad i’m not the only one,” aiden jokes with a smirk.

“so, stiles, you gonna answer or just sit there like an idiot?” jackson quips, his confidence clearly recovered from the verbal blow you dealt him earlier. stiles’s eyes narrow.

“are you gonna answer jackson?” stiles spits. he knows that comment is a low blow considering his girlfriend is practically sitting on top of him but he’s desperate to turn the attention away from himself.

“y/n’s not my type. i prefer redheads,” jackson pinches lydia’s hip and leans in to kiss her, ending his participation in this discussion.

“and thank god for that because i don’t understand why lydia doesn’t find him repulsive,” you reply, returning your eye contact with stiles. “i’ll tell you how many drinks it’d take me to fuck you, stiles, if that’ll help,” you continue slyly.

stiles’s heart begins to race at just the thought of there being a bar to cross that might get you to fuck him. his mouth has gone too dry to speak, which actually isn’t too much of a problem because his brain is entirely drawing blanks as to how to respond to the most terrifying, wonderful sentence you’ve ever said to him.

“uh…ok. how many drinks would it take, y/n?” stiles finally asks in the most even, non-desperate tone his perverted mind can muster in this moment. whatever the answer is, as soon as the lunch bell rings he will be racing to the nearest bathroom to relieve himself over it. precum is already sliding down his agonizingly erect tip and it takes every ounce of self-control he possesses not to start stroking himself through his sweatpants right then and there.

“hmm,” you hum, your eyes raking over stiles in an analytical manner. your friends are all only half-listening now, with most of them breaking off into separate, two-person conversations on the side. stiles has your undivided attention and he’s probably the only person who will remember your answer to this question anyways.

“i’d say i’d need like six shots and a few beers in me to try and fuck you, stiles,” you say with indifference. an awfully specific answer, but stiles’s mind is already delusionally spiralling. you could be quite the heavy drinker at parties and you’d easily clear that many at one of lydia’s house parties. what would happen if he actually tried? is this just a hypothetical? or is this a legitimate bar to cross?

“why that many?” stiles squeaks out, trying not to sound desperate.

“i don’t know,” you shake your head and keep your gaze fixed on a spot far away, above stiles’s head, “i mean, you’re cute and all dude, don’t get me wrong. but you’re pretty awkward. if i wanted to fuck up our whole friend group dynamic i’d have to be drunk enough to not remember all the bad jokes you’d probably make,” you explain evenly, ending with a snort.

stiles’s ears are ringing. he can’t decide which emotion is more intense; the deep, swooning pride swelling in his chest at the ‘cute’ comment or the pit-in-his-stomach embarrassment at the ‘awkward’ comment. he’s also still impossibly hard, which adds an extra level of confusion to the emotion of cocktails brewing in his addled mind.

“that’s fair,” he responds somewhat softly. giving that you just gave him an incredibly detailed answer that he was trying not to etch into the walls of his mind as a tutorial for later, he finally feels confident enough to try to answer back.

“i think i’d need about the same,” he starts, his voice betraying him with a crack on the last syllable. he pauses, before deciding to be bold; “probably a few less though. i am a horny teenage boy, after all,”

“true true. so let’s go with like, 5 shots even, then?” you ask with a dazzling smile that somehow makes stiles’s knees weak even though he’s seated.

“yeah,” he nods sheepishly, his dick throbbing along with the movement of his head. if he doesn’t get his hand wrapped around himself in the next few minutes, he might just cum in his pants. the images of you letting him fuck you after a booze-filled party is almost too much to bear. and then, as if god himself wanted to give him an out, the bell rings.

“y/n you are seriously strange. i don’t know how you come up with these questions,” lydia asks with a disgusted look on her face, as the entire group stands and collects their things to leave.

“yeah how’d we even get on the topic in the first place?” scott asks.

“we were talking about lydia’s party this weekend and then about some of the worst things we’ve done while drunk. then allison said she tried to hook up with a friend while she was drunk once like a year ago and that prompted me to ask how many drinks it’d take all of us to hook up with each other,” you rattled off, grabbing your backpack and your ridiculously large, pink metal water bottle.

“oh yeah the party this weekend,” aiden interjects loudly. “well i guess we’ll have to put your theory to the test, huh stiles?” he claps stiles on the shoulder, sending an unpleasant lurch through his already on-edge body. aiden is the last person he wants to be touching him right now, as he holds a large notebook in front of his crotch and prepares to make a beeline for the bathroom, lest he blow his load right now onto this poor college-ruled writing apparatus.

“what theory?” he manages to question in a low voice that’s thick with lust. aiden doesn’t notice and continues.

“the drink theory! you and y/n are both single. lets see if she’ll really fuck you after a couple of shots,” he finishes devilishly, catching the door to the lunch room from the person in front of him and holding it for you to walk through. aiden relishes in being the instigator, but it doesn’t seem to phase you.

“stiles, if we fuck this weekend, promise me it won’t ruin our friendship?” you ask in a sugary sweet voice that’s dripping with sarcasm. it doesn’t matter though. the pent-up hormones racing through stiles’s body don’t care if you’re joking or not. his cock twitches and even more precum slides down his bricked shaft. he’s seriously starting to believe that all the blood that’s supposed to be in his brain is in his dick right now. 

he weakly whispers “no promises” under his breath as he ducks into the nearest bathroom, leaving you to wonder aloud to your friends why the fuck he exited the conversation so quickly. then ethan tugs on your shirt sleeve to ask you a question about the math homework from the pre-calc class you share and your mind moves on.

stiles doesn't though.

finally. he thinks to himself as he pulls down his sweatpants and now-sticky boxers with record speed in the locked stall. the warmth of his hand around his aching cock after so many torturous minutes of it pulsing untouched in his pants almost makes him cum instantaneously.

he strokes himself furiously, finally feeling the knot in his stomach start to unwind after being driven insane by your words fueling his fantasies. he grabs a left handful of toilet paper, anticipating his sticky finish.

when he finally blows his load in strong, thick streams into the too-thin toilet paper, he has to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress the moan that so desperately wants to escape his lips. he tries to come to his senses quickly, flushing the toilet paper, pulling his pants back up and washing his hands feverishly in the sink.

as he leaves the bathroom, only one thought occupies his mind.

if y/n lets me fuck her this weekend, i’ll never complain about anything ever again.

[randomwritingss]

Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!

3.5K words

Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3

“Just so you’re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice. 

“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.

You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis. 

You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?” 

There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook. 

“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.

“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way. 

“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears. 

“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud. 

“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled. 

You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table. 

“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face. 

“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again. 

You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.” 

Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair. 

“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head. 

An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks. 

A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.  

Oh my god. Get. it. together.

“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish. 

“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable. 

“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.” 

“A kiss.” 

“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips. 

“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.” 

“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole. 

Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.

“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.” 

You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily. 

Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.

You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall? 

One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip. 

“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in. 

“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way. 

“Shut up.” 

Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles. 

“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck. 

“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.

“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily. 

“God… so wet for me,��� he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles. 

He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library. 

You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed. 

He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge. 

“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth. 

The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed. 

“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly. 

“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry. 

“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least. 

You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?” 

“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”

“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.” 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look. 

“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed. 

“Less talking, more fucking, yes?” 

“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget. 

“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly. 

You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…” 

Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders. 

“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.” 

“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained. 

“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.” 

You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy. 

“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.

Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance. 

Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move. 

He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace. 

“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you. 

“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time. 

“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability. 

Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it. 

“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up. 

“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips. 

The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door. 

“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.” 

“Yes, Stiles, please!”  

“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty. 

“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars. 

“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips. 

“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.

When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform. 

“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.” 

Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?” 

“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.” 

“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra. 

When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window. 

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.” 

“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house. 

You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!” 

Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual. 

“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.” 

You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable. 

“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.” 

[randomwritingss]

Lou Ferrigno Jr. as Trent Fox in Resisting Roots (2022)

for the lovely @mustlovelou 🥰🥰🥰 —am i forgiven? 🥺