#and separate from that I think it's just been hard for me to work on blb fics knowing that it's over

[ilypaigebuckets]

can u write a paige bueckers x reader where reader is a cheerleader and gets into a fight with another cheerleader and paige goes to separate them and calm reader down also could u give reader a name

yes! this is such a good idea :) i think i’ll be able to write this pretty well bc i do cheer and dance! for the name ill just do mine bc im not creative😛 this came out kinda bad im not really proud of it im so sorry! i hope you like it anyways if not i can always rewrite it!!

Bring it On - Paige Bueckers x Reader

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

plot: kenzie’s a cheerleader at uconn, and also paige’s gf!

“Let’s go, P!” Screamed Mackenzie as her cheered from the sidelines for her superstar girlfriend, Paige Bueckers. The two had been in a committed relationship for another 8 months now and were very much in love. They were public with their relationship, and the media seemed to eat it up. Paige dribbled the ball behind herself and shot the ball from where she was standing.

“And Bueckers shoots a three!” The sports broadcaster narrating the game exclaimed. Kenzie waved her poms high in the air. She loved hyping up the crowd and cheering for all the girls at Uconn, but of course she cheered just a little harder for her superstar girlfriend. The other team’s cheerleaders did not have the same enthusiasm for their team. Of course, there wasn’t much to cheer for; Uconn was beating the opposing team 26-48 and it seemed it would be an easy dub for them.

The girls on the other team seemed to be a little cocky, at least that was what Kenzie picked up from their mannerisms. Anytime someone from Uconn had the ball the girls rolled their eyes. They hadn’t trash talked or said anything bad verbally, though, which Kenzie and the rest of the cheerleaders were grateful for. Finally, it was 4th quarter. Uconn was still very much in the lead and both the other team’s basketball players and cheerleaders had all but given up. Kenzie tightened her bow and waved her poms up high, “Let’s go Uconn!” The other girls joined in and rallied with her, which in turn brought the crowd’s noise level up. Then a girl on the opposite cheer team said rather loudly, “Oh my god. Can she, like, shut up?” Kenzie rolled her eyes and brushed it off. She honestly couldn’t care less about what people had to say. She was a cheerleader, and she was going to cheer. She hadn’t gone D1 in cheerleading just to stand there.

The comment quickly rolled off Kenzie’s back and was forgotten about in a matter of a few minutes. In the last 30 seconds of the game, Kk passed the ball to Paige who shot it into the net. The crowd exploded and everyone cheered. The cheerleaders all rallied and did the chant they did everytime their school won a game. Everything was perfectly fine until Kenzie heard that same scratchy voice from the other side of the court. This time the yelling wasn’t directed at her though.

“Number 5 you suck,” the same girl from early shouted, her poms cupping her mouth in an attempt to make her voice louder. Kenzie was fed up. She threw her poms down and calmly walked to the other side of the gym. The girl who had shouted was staring at her blankly, and she walked right over to her.

The rest of the cheerleaders and even Paige and her team were staring to see what Mackenzie was going to do to this girl. “That girl better watch out,” said Nika. “Kenzie doesn’t play with people trash talking Paige.”

Nika couldn’t be more right, because as soon as Kenzie saw the girl she knew what she was going to do. She stood in front of the girl and slapped her across the face.

“What the fuck? What is wrong with you?!” One of the girl’s teammates asked. Paige quickly ran up to the altercation you’d caused and held you back before you could hit the girl any more.

“Don’t say shit about my girlfriend! You can say anything, whatever you want about me, I don’t care. But she works too hard to have someone talk about her like that!”

Paige held your arms and turned you around to face her. “Thank you baby, but you didn’t have to do that. We still beat their team, so it doesn’t matter.” Kenzie nodded at Paige then smiled, “Yeah, you’re right P. Let me go say sorry to her.” Paige smiled at this, happy she’d talked some sense into you. But her smile quickly faded when you walked back up to the girl and slapped her on the other cheek.

“And that one is for telling me to be quiet. I changed my mind, don’t say shit about me either.”

[sweetbans29]

That's Mine - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You get jealous and don’t like when people take what’s yours (based off of THIS request)

Warnings: jealous reader, suggestive

Word Count: 2.6k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Let me know what you guys think!

You and Caitlin had been dating for about 6 months now. The two of you met when you were helping your roommate take photos of the team. She was one of the student photographers who would photograph different sports teams on campus. She was in charge of women's volleyball, women's basketball, and track and field. It seemed like a lot but she juggled it well.

You got roped into helping her out for one of the media days for the women's basketball team. It was a Friday morning and you had no excuse to get out of it.

You joined your roommate, Sophie, at Carver-Hawkeye Arena. You were in charge of carrying around gear and getting whatever lens she needed ready. It was honestly pretty simple.

You helped her set up the space before any of the team got there. When you were done, you went to grab coffee for the two of you. On your walk back you bumped into a few of the girls from the team.

You started talking with them as you all walked to where the media day was being held. A few of them had classes with you, and the others got introduced. They were all super chill.

When you returned, you handed Soph her coffee and got to work. You gathered all the props that they had and handed them to the girls whenever they went to switch up a shot.

One of the girls came up to you to introduce herself.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for helping out today. Sophie mentioned you would be helping out today. I'm Caitlin." She says as she extends her hand to shake yours.

"Hi, I know who you are," you say with a little smile and laugh. "You are truly incredible on the court."

She smiles and you swear you see a slight blush creep into her cheeks.

"Thanks." She says. "Well, I better get back, thanks again for helping out."

You thought it was sweet that Caitlin came over to introduce herself. She didn't need an introduction as she was well-known throughout campus as one of our star athletes. But it was nice to know that she now knows who you are.

The rest of the media day goes smoothly. Everyone looks amazing and the photos are the best media day photos you have seen your roommate take - and she has taken quite a few.

At the end of the shoot, you help her clean up when Caitlin comes over again.

"Hey," you say as you start folding up one of the lights.

"Hi," she says and just stands there.

You don't think much of it and continue to tear down. She is playing with her fingertips and seems like she wants to say something.

"How did we look today?" She ends up asking, not getting to her real reason for coming over. You stopped what you were doing to continue the conversation with her.

"The team looked absolutely amazing." You say. "I think one of my favorite shots was of you actually." When you say it, noticing a blush that creeps up into her cheeks.

"Oh ya? Which one?" She asks, trying to regain her confidence.

"The one where you were midair for the dunk." You say with a little smile.

"Oh that one was fire, I think it is one of my favorites as well," she says. It is now or never. She takes a deep breath and mumbles, "Would you maybe want to grab coffee or something sometime?"

At first, you stare at her - your brain trying to process what she is asking. There is no way she is asking you out right now, she has to mean it as friends.

“I would love that,” you say with a sweet smile. You try not to think anything of it but it is hard when a gorgeous all-start basketball star is asking to hang out. The two of you exchange phone numbers and go your separate ways.

Over the next 8 months, the two of you really get to know each other. The two of you became friends and started dating shortly after.

That leads you today. The two of you are with a few girls from the team. It is one of her teammate's birthdays and they wanted to go out to a nice dinner and then to their favorite ice cream spot.

Everyone dressed up nice to go out to dinner.

When you walk into where Caitlin is getting ready - she takes your breath away.

You walk up behind where she is sitting and place your hands on her shoulders, rubbing her arms.

"You look stunning." You say as you look at her through the mirror. She looks at you through the mirror with a smile. She is putting on some light makeup, not that she needs it, that compliments her well.

"You don't look too bad yourself," she says checking you out.

You lean over and kiss the top of her head.

"Are you ready to go?" You ask as you sit on her bed.

"Yep, just finishing up," she says. "Can you come help me put this necklace on?"

You get up and help her. It is a necklace you got her for her birthday. It was a diamond circle that fell beautifully on her chest.

Once the necklace is on, she turns round to face you. She takes in your appearance and takes a deep breath. You don't know how she does it but it brings butterflies to your stomach without even trying. You crumble beneath her gaze.

She leans down and places the lightest kiss on your lips. You lean into her wanting more. She gives in and lets you take the lead. When things get a little too heavy, you break away from her. Your breathing is uneven and your eyes are still closed.

"If we don't go now, we won't make it out the door," you say taking a few steps back from her.

She just gives you a look, knowing you are right.

The two of you head out and meet up with the other girls.

The night is nice, you are all enjoying dinner and each other's company. Following dinner you all head to THE ice cream spot. When you all arrive, there is a line around the corner. The is nothing new and you all head to the back of the line.

As you are waiting in line and talking to one of Caitlin's teammates, something catches your eye.

You glance over at Caitlin who is in conversation with the girl in front of her. At first, you think nothing of it as it didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary. You brush it off and get back to your conversation.

After about 10 minutes, you notice Caitlin is still talking to the same girl only this time, the girl's hand comes up to touch Caitlin's arm. Caitlin just laughs at something the girl says, making no effort to remove her hand.

You know it is harmless, but part of you was hoping your girlfriend would politely step back or remove the girl's hand from her body.

You try to shake the rising sense of jealousy that is building within you but it doesn't subside. Even though you are still in the conversation with Caitlin's friends, your ears and mind are trained on Caitlin and the girl.

After another five minutes, you hear the girl talking about how amazing Caitlin is on the court and how she has been following your girlfriend this past season, making sure she was at every game.

Caitlin being Caitlin, was very kind and to anyone else would look like she was flirting back. Deep down - you know she never would, but the insecurity that the jealousy brought, had you raving to get your girlfriend out of that situation. You wanted to stake your claim.

Your final straw was when the girl asked for a photo with Caitlin, which she happily agreed to. When the girl pulled out her phone, she leaned into Caitlin, putting her head in the crease of her neck, and tilted her head in. She was posing as if Caitlin was hers.

You had enough and excused yourself from your current conversation. You make your way over so you are standing right behind Caitlin.

You have a slight advantage since Caitlin is taller than you, so you could sneak up behind her without the other girl knowing. And when you do, you ever so lightly trail your fingers from her lower back all the way up to just below her neck. You see the skin on her neck stand straight up as her speech becomes uneven.

The dress she is wearing makes this all so easy. There is a large open slit that goes from her lower back up to her neck, right where your fingers just trailed and tied at the top. Your fingers begin to play with the strings as your other hand comes and plays with the bottom of the slit, hands teasing her waist.

You can feel every muscle in her body tense and you know that isn't the only part of her that is affected. You go on your tippy toes, just close enough for her, and only her, to hear what you say.

"Looks like I need to show you who you belong to tonight," you whisper in her ear. Caitlin's mouth goes dry as she politely excuses herself from the fan she was just talking to.

As she turns back to the group and you all approach the front of the line, she tries to grab your hand - wanting to make any sort of contact with you to ease the tension that builds inside her. You notice her hand coming to meet yours and move it - keeping up a playful conversation with the girls. The lowest of whines comes from your girl as she is becoming visually flustered and frustrated.

You knew exactly what to do to get her going, and once she was going, there was no turning her off.

The thing about your relationship with Caitlin is that when you two are intimate, it is usually sweet or based off of a mutual need for one another. And if there was any dominance, Caitlin would always be the one to take the lead. It has never been the other way around, until tonight.

You can see hands begin to fiddle with themselves and then come to the bottom of her dress, straightening it out and smoothing it over. She is doing everything in her power to keep it cool.

As the group enters the ice cream shop, you let her go first, placing your hand on her lower back, and guiding her in. She slows her movements, hoping to lean into your touch more yet nothing more than your fingers grace her body. She is itching for your touch.

She can barely focus as she is trying to decide what flavor to get. You are standing right next to her, your perfume overwhelming her. She wants to bring her arm around you and pull you into her body but is nervous about what repercussions that would have later that night. Your choosing to be the dominant one is new and the excitement that comes with that alone is enough for her to excuse the two of you to take you home to find out more.

When it is your turn to choose a flavor, you look over to Caitlin to let her go first.

"Ummm, can I please get....umm," she says, not knowing what to choose.

"She'll have a single scoop of your cherry vanilla," You say, not acknowledging Caitlin's look wondering why you weren't getting any.

"Can we also get a pint of that to go please," you ask the man who's taking your order, he gives a light nod and gets your order all set.

He hands it all over to you as you pay for it. You hand Caitlin her scoop and the paper bag holding the pint while mumbling something along the lines of 'tasting something sweeter tonight'.

Caitlin tries to engage in the conversation as everyone is sitting at a table that is too small for your group but can't focus on anything other than you. How your knee hits hers and your hand occasionally comes to her thigh when you laugh at something one of the girls says.

She leans over to you and quietly says, "Can we please go home?"

Her need for you continues to grow with each touch.

"I don't think I am ready yet," you say, finally looking into her eyes. Even the simple action of eye contact has her fighting back a squirm.

"Please," she whispers in your ear, practically begging.

You see how her thighs are pressing together and her hands can't keep still. You take a second to contemplate her request and cave. To be quite honest, seeing her in such a needy state has you riled up as well.

You stand and Caitlin immediately follows suit.

"We are going to head out, Caitlin doesn't feel too good," you say which isn't completely wrong. Everyone says their goodbyes and you say happy birthday to her teammate and begin the journey back. Everything was within walking distance of her apartment which made it an easy trip back.

Easy in the sense of the distance. Borderline unbearable to Caitlin as you still wouldn't hold her hand. She followed you like a lost puppy.

When you got back to her place, you didn't say a thing to her as you put the ice cream in the freezer and began looking through your phone. She expected you to have her pinned against the door the second you walked in the place, showing her who she belonged to just like you said you were going to.

She didn't know what to do when you didn't immediately jump her.

"Ummm," she doesn't know what to say but knows she wants you.

You look up from your phone and just stare at her. There are your eyes again, unraveling her without a single touch. Her heart rate going a mile a minute. You walk over to her and look her up and down.

"What do you want baby?" You ask low and slow, your hand coming to brush her own.

The control Caitlin wants to take is taking every ounce of willpower she has to subdue.

"Touch me," she says and your eyebrow raises. "Please, touch me."

Your hand comes to hold hers now, and her eyes flutter close. Her breath picks up and becomes uneven. She takes in the feeling of your skin on hers, even if it is just her hand. You then bring your other hand up to where the pads of your fingertips are skimming her neck, tracing her ear. Her neck tilts and she lets out the sweetest moan.

"Go get on the bed," you say as you grab one of the strings of her dress and pull it undone.

She immediately does what you say. You take your time in the kitchen, wanting her to sweat a little.

"If I find any evidence that you have touched yourself, that's it." You yell to her. You hear her groan in response.

You make your way to the freezer and grab the ice cream and a spoon. Once the freezer closes, you make your way to your girl in the bedroom.

AN: I hope this did the prompt justice. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

[cloverfarm]

— every trick in the book

sdv!harvey x f!reader

rated e - 3k

Tags: gentledom/service!dom harvey, mutual pining/ yearning, kissing, begging, teasing, body worship, oral, fingering, vaginal sex

part ii of read you like a book, but can be read as-is!

“You’re always working so hard,” It’s a soft murmur, as your fingers fit around him. Feeling the hard outline through the fabric, as you scoot backwards off him, “Let me take care of you, too.”

It could just be last night that you mean, but it’s more than that. You want to make him feel appreciated. Seen.

(Or - you return the favor.)

You wake to a sunlight streaming in, stretching pale gold across the floor.

An arm slung across something solid, a low thrum beneath your ear. It takes a moment before the night before comes rushing back, a heat settling in your core and cheeks that is absolutely linked to the body you’re using as a pillow.

A tilt of your head, and your eyes are meeting his. Your lips parting with surprise - quickly forgetting your shock that you slept in with the distraction of him.

Harvey, still in your bed. Stripped down to a white t-shirt and boxers. His glasses still resting on the bedside table.

If it had been anyone else, you would have expect them to leave. But it felt right - the dress shirt slung over your kitchen chair. One of the toothbrushes you bought in bulk, tucked in the cup next to yours.

“Morning,” You stifle a yawn, as you sit up, “How long have you been up?”

The arm looped around you tightens for a fraction of a second, before it slips down to the bed.

“I woke up early, but I made sure not to wake you.” His voice is lower than usual - rough with sleep.

There’s a soft smile then, with the tilt of his head, “You looked so peaceful.”

You don’t know how he can be so sweet, when he ruined you so thoroughly the night before. The urge coming back to kiss him again, your eyes dropping to his mouth.

Thinking about how he tasted like you, when your tongue has brushed his.

But you don’t quite know if he wants that, now that a new day has begun. His insistence that last night was about you. That he had wanted more, but had never reached out and taken it for himself.

It leaves you on uneven footing.

“Are you hungry?” You manage, instead.

The time ticks towards overdue for your chores, but you can’t bear to drag yourself away.

His head shakes.

But then he’s adding hesitantly, “Coffee would be great though, if you have it.”

Your teeth sink into your lip as you smile.

“I think I can manage that.”

As if you haven’t been growing beans to harvest for him, as if you didn’t already know how much he loves it. So many morning already spent, the buzz from his smile as you handed over the cup doing so much more than a shot of caffeine could.

When you return, holding two cups, the shirt from the night before tugged on - you linger for a moment, in the doorway.

Harvey is frowning at his phone, lost in thought. He’s always handsome but like this - sleepy and tousled, his guard down - it is something you want to remember.

“I could get used to this.” You sigh happily, as you set the cups down on the side table.

His hand scratches through his hair, the words coming slowly, “Having someone in your bed?”

“No,” You huff, though you’re smiling.

“Seeing you. Like this.”

The look he gives you is startling, something tender nestled deep in his eyes. His voice rough in a new way as his hand reaches for yours.

“Come here.”

With a squeak, you’re hauled into his lap. It echos the night before, though with familiarity in your movements now.

His eyes flick between yours for just a second - and it’s you that kisses him first this time, in the dawn of a new day.

The soft press of lips that grows hungry. His name panted against his mouth as his hands wander - more confident in the way his palms curve around your waist.

A sleep-thick hum when he hears you, just before his tongue sweeps across your lip. They part for him, a rock of your hips as you shuffle closer.

Feeling him beneath you, separated by just a thin layer of cloth. Soft sounds pulled from you as he deepens the kiss. His touch slow as it slips down to your hips, and then under your sleep shirt.

A twist of his wrist, until his fingers brush your inner thigh. A throb of need shooting straight to your cunt, your breath tight with anticipation.

“Yes,” You moan - needing his touch, “Please, Harvey.”

He hums, the sound turning to a rough groan when the tips of his fingers slip against you. How wet you are for him already, the little buck of your hips into his touch.

“I don’t know why you bothered to put this back on,” He husks in your ear, his other hand tugging at the hem.

It’s all you need to hear before you’re pulling it off, letting it drop off the side of the bed. The sound he makes is one you’ll commit to memory - the need, as he pulls you back in for a kiss.

A shot of pleasure ringing through you as he circles your clit, with that same pressure as the night before.

Your own hand drifts, across his chest, and down. The back of your hand brushing his as you cup him, greedily watching the way he inhaled a sharp breath.

“You’re always working so hard,” It’s a soft murmur, as your fingers fit around him. Feeling the hard outline through the fabric, as you scoot backwards off him, “Let me take care of you, too.”

It could just be last night that you mean, but it’s more than that. You want to make him feel appreciated. Seen.

He groans at your touch, the smallest nod - giving himself permission - as your fingers hook around the elastic of his boxers.

Lifting his hips so you can tug them down. A dark dusting of hair thickens where his shirt is pushed up, down to where it frames the base of his cock. Heavy where it bobs against his stomach, the head flushed. The tip shining, threatens to leak with his need.

“Harvey.” You sigh, and his cheeks dust with pink. Lips parting to say something, the sound turning into a ragged gasp when your head ducks.

The tip of your tongue catching the drip, tasting velvet skin. Messy, in the way your cheeks hollow as your mouth closes around him. Spit pooling on your tongue, slicking him up as you go deeper.

You like the way he sighs - the involuntary throb when you swallow him down. When your fingers curl around his base. The soft squeeze before your palm drops down to cup him.

“Look at you.” Harvey’s voice has your eyes opening. That tone from the night before, his fingers tightening where they fist in your sheets - holding back the urge to buck into your mouth.

You’d like to make him let go, you think. Like to let him take, for once.

It makes you moan. A soft hum around him that has his head tilting back. Leaning into the pump of your fingers, the swirl of your tongue.

Until his hands are reaching to cradle your face - saliva stringing from his cock to your lips when you ease him out of your throat.

“You can come in my mouth,” It comes out hoarse, and his fingers pinch against your skin, “Unless you want to come somewhere else.”

“Yoba, sweetheart.” He grits out, teeth clenched. A twitch of his cock in your palm, where you still squeeze him.

You push yourself up, kneeling between his spread thighs. His hand already reaching to cup you. A rough sound in his throat when he feels how you drip for him, inner thighs sticky.

“I’d really like to fuck you,” Harvey rasps - the tip of a finger traces your opening, nudging at the tight entrance. “Would you let me in here?”

He dips inside and you can’t help but clench around him - remembering how good he felt the night before.

“Yes,” You keen, as he sinks knuckle-deep.

A second finger added after a moment, thick inside you as he works you open - your hands fisted in the shoulders of his shirt.

Until you can feel a tremble in your thighs. Something building in your belly as your eyes grow hazy with pleasure.

Pliant, as he leans you back. Fingers slick with you as they tug at your legs, guiding them over his own.

A hand finding a wayward pillow, his own look dark as he lifts it in question. 

“Can I use this?”

You nod, and he smiles, “Then tuck this beneath you, sweetheart.”

It’s easy to do as you are told. Tucking it under your back. A low cluck of his tongue as he leans over you - hands catching the edges.

A sharp tug as he works it into place beneath your hips, tilting you up to meet him. His boxers pushed down his long legs, lost in the twist of blankets as he fits himself between your thighs.

“This okay?” Harvey asks, and it takes your brain a moment to process.

Eyes too caught on how his hand wraps around himself. Half-tempted to tell him to keep going, so you can watch as he works himself empty across your belly.

“Y-Yeah,” You manage, a small frown as the corner of his lips turn up, “It’s been a while-”

“I heard you,” The smile deepens, his cheek indenting with a dimple, “Two years, right?”

That knocks you out of your daydreams, heat flooding through you.

“You weren’t supposed to be listening to that,” You huff, eyes dragging away.

He thumbs at your chin, bringing you back.

“I’m glad I did.” The teasing edge ebbs, “Been longer for me, don’t worry.”

He already knows your birth control methods - something you are only now grateful for. Weeks spent going over that first appointment at his clinic, a hand scrubbing over your face as you had stuttered - already enamored with him.

“I find that hard to believe,” Your hips lift, meeting his length - letting it rub against you.

There’s an inhale of breath as he shifts over you, eyes dragging over your form.

“I would disagree,” He husks, “But that’s something I’d rather do later. Right now, I…”

Harvey’s words trail off. His thumb rolling against your clit, before it shifts against your skin - tugging you open.

Your skin puffy and slick beneath his touch - a strong throb of desire racing through you.

“I want you.” You whisper.

He smiles back, “You have me.”

Your breath catches as he lines himself up. The thick head of his cock pressing against you, wrenching a sharp inhale from your lungs as he sinks into you.

Half-seated in you when he goes still, worry crossing his features, “You sore, honey?”

Your head shakes. A roll of your hips as you try to take him deeper.

“No,” You pant, “Feels, feels good. You’re just-”

Bigger than your fingers. A tight fit into your slick hole, your moan drawn out as his hands fit against your waist. Tugging you to meet him, until he’s buried fully.

Twin sighs, as he takes a moment for you to adjust. You’re the one that moves first, again. Greedy, in the way your teeth sink into your lip. Hands reaching to brace on his thighs, just above where his knees press into the mattress.

He begins to move, but not before he shoots you a look that sends a jolt through you. A slow saw of his hips that drags his cock against your walls.

A little squeal when he shifts almost all the way out, only to hilt himself with a sharp thrust.

“That what you want, sweetheart?” He coos, with a slow roll of his hips. Slipping from you again, just the tip of him inside as he waits.

“Yes,” You beg, “Please-”

The syllables string out as he fills you again. His low grunt melding with your moan, as he finds his rhythm.

Steadily pounding into you. The pressure in your belly swirling as your thighs inch wider. His fingers curling against your skin, a gentle tug to meet the slap of his hips against yours.

It has a hand dropping to the sheet, twisting in them the ground yourself. Ragged panting breath as each thrust sends a jolt down your spine.

“Is that good?” He asks. Voice strained, unable to help the circuit of his eyes. Your face down to the sway of your tits - as your hands drift up to cup them, thumbs brushing the tight peaks of your nipples.

To where you take him, each inch of him slicked up.

“So good,” You manage,” Want you to feel good, too. I don’t-”

A soft gasp then, when his cock nudges against a place his fingers found, “It’s hard for me to come like this, but I want you-”

He hums, with a hint of a smile. Those strong hands angling your hips up another fraction. The next thrust sending his cock directly against that spot.

Your cry is loud, wrenched from you. Heavy-lidded eyes widening with how he feels inside you, reaching for him when he arcs down to press his mouth to yours.

“You let me worry about that.” He tells you, as a hand leaves your waist, drifting downward, “Just relax, sweetheart.”

It’s hard to relax when you feel strung-tight. Clenching around him as his finger rub circles against your clit with each rock of his hips.

You’d always thought he had a good memory - the way he’d ask after your animals, the crops you were growing - and he proved it now. Calling back to the night before, when he had been watching.

Learning just what made your hips lift, your toes curl. The warmth that pools in you accelerated with the way you take him in - the soft pull of his brow of concentration, those lips parted with his own harsh breath.

Another urge to pull his shirt from him, so you can see every inch - the breadth of his chest, almost as if you could see the way his heart races beneath.

It’s too much.

His name a soft chant as the pressure builds and builds. Losing their shape, as you find yourself on the brink.

“Oh-” It almost sounds surprised, when it slips from you. A panting gasp, as he smiles, “Harvey, don’t stop. I’m gonna-”

His eyes darken, “That’s a good girl. Let me feel you.”

You clench around him, with a soundless gasp. Heart fluttering behind your ribs, as his fingers press just a little harder.

“You like it when I call you that?” Harvey husks, “My good girl?”

“Fuck-”

You’re coming before you can answer. His touch, his praise snapping that strung-tight thread inside you. The harsh sound of your breath turning into a dull ringing in your ears, as Harvey feels how you pulse around him.

The hand on your hip pinches tight. Lips parted as he groans at how tight you are - how your release coats his cock, the wet sound of you taking him growing louder. 

Bringing him right along with you, just as you start to come down. 

“Want you to come in me,” You manage, as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts.

Harvey’s answering hum is closer to a growl. Low and rough - his pretty eyes blown wide with need. That steady rhythm short and turning sloppy, as his head tips back.

His own murmured curse, as he does as he is told. A moan ripped from him as he follows - grinding himself deep as he comes. Throbbing inside you, each shallow thrust spilling more of him against your walls.

Leaving him breathless, just as you are. His look dazed when his head lowers, the curl of his lips when you’re already watching with a soft smile of your own.

You miss him when he leaves you. A low hiss as you find yourself empty, the bed dipping as he lies down next to you.

A breath before your mouths are meeting. Soft swallowed sounds as your hands drift across his chest. As his own trace over your curves, down further when he feels you sigh into his mouth.

Gentle, as they slip between your thighs again. Tracing your seam - his fingers slick with his release, when he begins to touch you again.

The moan that slips from your lips is ragged, the words panted out.

“Harvey,” You gasp, as his fingers circle, “I’ve- I’ve come enough, you don’t-”

Harvey silences you with another kiss, sharing a breath as you sigh into his mouth. His voice dropping with a soft command.

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, sweetheart.”

The coffee grows cold.

Harvey smiles the whole way home.

Still stuck on the morning, the drawn-out goodbye that followed him from the bedroom, to the kitchen, to the porch.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You had leaned against the doorframe - your smile sweet and lopsided. Almost as if still dazed, a feeling that was mirrored in his own chest.

It makes him feel brave. There’s a degree of confidence, in his abilities. It hasn’t been so long that he’s forgotten.

But feelings - feelings are something else. It took weeks of flirting and a sizable shove from Elliot to get him moving.

He doesn’t want to mess this up.

Harvey calls you, as the clinic door shuts behind him. He’ll be late to the museum, but he’s sure Gunther will understand.

His breath catches, but you pick up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” He’s smiling again, “Uh, I made it. Home, I mean.”

You laugh and it makes his heart flip, “Good. I was worried about you.”

“Right. Easy to get lost,” He sags against the counter, fingers clutched around the phone. A second, as he inhaled - gathering up his courage.

“Uh, listen. I’d like to see you again. Would that be alright?”

There’s the briefest pause, and it feels like time stops with it.

“Yeah.” Your smile bleeds into your words, “I’d really like that, Harvey.”

His name sounds nice, on your lips. Not Doctor, just him.

Almost too caught up to catch your teasing, “I need to get you your book back, after all.”

“Oh.” He flushes, remembering how it had been abandoned the night before. Forgotten, in the swirl of the morning, “I am so sorry. I completely forgot-”

Your answering laugh is so sweet, that his worry fades. Voice softening, as you ask,“Can I stop by at lunch?”

His answer is easy.

“I would love that.”

And as he climbs the stairs to his apartment, he finds himself thinking…

He could get used to this, too.

thank you so much for reading! 💖 was so excited to do a little part 2 for this fic!

[calaisreno]

Make a Choice

702 Words / Prompt: Choice

John’s therapist smiles. She’s the new one, he thinks. Or the one after that. Sometimes it’s hard to keep it all straight. 

“How are the wife and kids?” she asks. 

John sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “Here’s the thing. You ask me that about half the time. The other half, you ask me how my flatmate is, what crazy stuff he's got up to.”

She blinks, then frowns. “Do I?”

“Yes, you do. It’s like I’m two separate people to you. Two John Watsons.”

“Perhaps… you could say a bit more about that.” She’s fallen back into therapist-mode, and John knows it will be hopeless to explain. 

He will try, though. “This is what my life is: two non-intersecting realities. In one, I'm living in Clapham with Mary and my two kids, Rose and Hamish. I have pub nights with my old army buddies, started biking to work a few months ago, and work at a surgery, treating sniffles and rashes. Sort of boring, but it's what I always expected my life to be.”

She smiles, uncertain. “Yes, I remember. You’ve mentioned your friend Bill.”

“Right.” He leans forward, shaking his head at the absurdity. “But that’s just half of it. In the other life— well, let’s call it another reality. I have one life, split between these two. In the other reality, I'm living with Sherlock Holmes. I never know what's going to happen when I wake up each day. There will be a spleen in the sink, no milk in the fridge because it's all been used for an experiment, and Sherlock will either be nowhere in sight, or flopped on the sofa, taking up as much space as possible with his notes. We go out on cases a few times a month. I've been shot at, stabbed, and got some sort of fungal infection from whatever that was in the sugar bowl. Sort of crazy, but never boring.”

She’s biting her lip now. “John. It’s not unusual for PTSD to manifest itself in… well, imaginings.”

“You mean hallucinations. And that’s not what I’m saying. What I mean is that I am living two lives. The wife-and-kids one, and the Sherlock one. I never know which one I’m going to wake up to. And I have no idea why it’s happening.”

Notebook open, she’s writing something. Upside-down, he reads: possible psychosis.

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” he says. “I’m not psychotic. I always know which reality I’m in. I’m not confused. So, I'm wondering. You're the only factor common to both of these worlds. Do you realise what's happening to me? Is this... an experiment?”

Yesterday, when he explained this, she offered to schedule him in twice a week and send him to a sleep specialist. 

Today, in a different reality, she regards him with a half-smile. “Well, John, that’s a good observation. Very good. I would say that it’s time to make a choice.”

She holds a gun. 

...

His head is splitting. Sherlock is talking, and John is trying to make sense of it.

“Every decision point creates two parallel realities. Yes and no. Turn right, turn left. Go through the park, get on a bus. You’re not aware of all the consequences of your choices, but they exist, as real as the fact of your life—”

“The park,” he says. “I went through the park.” 

“I know.” Sherlock frowns. “Are you all right, John?”

“Of course I’m not all right—I’ve been shot!”

“Wrong. You’re concussed.” He leans over John, studying him like a specimen. “He hit you on the head and stole your wallet. Do you know who I am?”

“Of course I do. You’re my mad flatmate. And my therapist shot me.”

“Wrong. I’m your husband. And you don’t have a therapist.“

He closes his eyes. “I think some wires got crossed.”

Sherlock kisses him. “You’ll be fine.”

...

In a parallel reality, a thief is talking to his therapist.

“How are the wife and kids?” she asks.

He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “Here’s the thing. I stole this bloke’s wallet, and ever since, I’ve been living two lives.”

She smiles and leans forward. “Perhaps you could say more about that, John.”

@lisbeth-kk @keirgreeneyes @ninasnakie @raina-at @friday411

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

ello! i have a promt idea for doll reader? wat happen's if she become's way to obessed with vox as well as when he's away sense i kinda think that doll reader would gain seprepration anxieity?

Good point! I like the way you think

Gone (Doll!reader x Vox)

CW: I went a bit overboard. Uh. Separation anxiety sort of turned into a depressive episode/spiral in this case. Sorry. AU typical events.

“I’ve got a fuckload of shit to deal with,” Vox muttered to his assistant, preparing to leave. He paused, then turned back to me. I’d been trailing behind him like a lost puppy. “Hey doll, be good for me while I’m gone, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, with a small smile. “When will you-”

“Great! I’ll be off now,” Vox said, cutting me off. He grinned, then zapped himself away.

“But…” I stood there for a moment, a pang of hurt hitting me hard. I pushed it aside and left his assistant to do his work, heading back to my own room.

I wandered aimlessly through the empty halls, my steps faltering as I struggled to shake off the sense of emptiness that seemed to cling to me like a second skin. Everywhere I looked, I saw reminders of him, small traces of his presence that served only to intensify the ache in my heart.

I gently closed and locked the door behind me, a sense of emptiness filling me up. How long would he be gone for?

Alone in the silence that followed, I felt the weight of his absence settle over me like a heavy shroud. The familiar hum of activity that filled the room seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a deafening silence that echoed with the echoes of his voice.

At night, as I lay alone in the darkness, the loneliness seemed to suffocate me, the silence oppressive and stifling. I longed for the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his voice, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against mine. But he was gone, and I was left to face the empty expanse of the night alone.

I hated this feeling. I hated how fucking familiar it was, how I always fell right back into the same old habits.

Hours stretched into days, and still, Vox remained absent, his absence a gaping hole in my chest that seemed to grow larger with each passing moment. I tried to distract myself with work, throwing myself into my duties with a fervor that bordered on desperation, but nothing could fill the void that his absence had left behind.

I stopped eating, not even caring to take care of myself. I needed something, anything to distract me from this feeling. It grew with every day he was away in his business trip. I couldn’t- I couldn’t do this.

One night, I collapsed in our room, not even making it to the bed. I’d worked myself ragged, and I was burnt out and tired- and so, so hungry. I just wished Vox was here, I wished he could tell me what to do, I wished I could hear the hum of his TV head or even just see those wonderful black and red spirals in his left eye.

I shook my head and wiped away my tears as I sat up. I’d been crying? Didn’t matter. I dragged myself to the shower, where I ended up just sitting on the tiled floor. I let the hot water burn my skin. It was a miracle I’d even let myself take a shower.

Hours later, I called Vox’s assistants saying that I wouldn’t be there to help out for a while. He didn’t ask any questions. I wandered aimlessly around the room, barely touching anything, still not eating. This continued until my legs gave out, and I fell to the floor. I didn’t bother getting up this time. This gnawing loneliness without Vox… I didn’t care enough to continue doing anything. Anywhere I went, there’d only be more reminders of him.

I lay on the floor, half propped up against the bed, my eyes glazed over in thought.

Days continued to pass, and still, Vox remained absent, his absence a constant ache that lingered in the depths of my soul. And though I knew that he would return, that his absence was only temporary, the emptiness that he left behind seemed to stretch on for eternity, a gaping void that threatened to swallow me whole.

If anyone were to come in and see me, they might think me dead. Or a very impressive statue. I hadn’t moved from my spot on the floor. I didn’t know if I’d even gotten some sleep. I just knew I hadn’t moved, and I’d been laying there limp, staring at the same spot for days, unable to think of anything but Vox. I needed him. Without him, I was just some useless doll. Without him, I was nothing.

[stuckinapril]

friend wanted to see my tumblr, and when i told him i can’t show it to him bc it’s basically my personal diary he went “oh so I can’t see it but a bunch of strangers on tumblr can??” he literally does not get me. no one will get me like the people in my phone get me

[thebirdandhersong]

I think the problem. the problem is that I have always been afraid of not being invited into the inner circle. and am always wanting to be part of the inner circle. inner circle being the circle of love and companionship and communion. of course being a TCK and a bit of a sheltered homeschooled oddball child has nudged this further along over the years. but I didn't realise how STRONG that desire still burned. to actually be wanted.

[majorshatterandhare]

Today I, an aromantic, was getting ready to attend a wedding… with Stranger on repeat.

[ufolvr]

How I sleep understanding my favorite villain's personality and backstory and why they work so well while also throwing key aspects of it away for the benefit of my own indulgences btw ^_^

[stardustedknuckles]

It's been so long since I've had to exist within a group of people consistently over many days and damn, I nearly forgot I was autistic. I found out yesterday that though I get along with almost everyone at work, most of my coworkers thought I was a huge bitch who hated everyone for a little bit (and one still does, which is how this whole thing came up at all). I was bewildered like. No I'm very often dizzy or in a bit of pain and I'm very focused on taking care of the dogs but I'm not - I don't dislike any of you? I've never been mad at you, you guys thought I was mad?? Just an alarming disconnect between the way I see myself and the way I come off to others. I have never once gotten the hang of behaving like a regular person, but it appears that time has taken me from "generally silly person with an offbeat sense of humor who doesn't take things seriously" to "stoic hardass who doesn't like you and thinks you're stupid also." I did not authorize this change. It's throwing me for a loop. I feel like I'm 6 again being told to stop talking over people's heads because I just learned a new big word and I wanted to use and share it. I like assholes with a heart of gold in media. I don't want to be one??

[polkadotpatterson]

okeydoke as I have not had much energy for working on stuff lately (but lots of motivation) I'm not gonna do proper NaNo with a wordcount or anything, BUT I am gonna make it a goal to get some amount of work done on a writing project every day (at least until I go away on the 24th). Main priority blaseball projects are, in no particular order:

Fic about the ending

Abner fic

Simon's Quest

secret fic(s) :)

get the Talkers exchange set up

Aside from that, I've been poking at more non-blaseball stuff, which is a good excuse for me to plug my writing blog @cyndakip! All my fics get posted there, so if you're interested in my writing beyond just blaseball (especially if you like pokemon), I recommend following me there, since I don't post non-blaseball fics here.

[herequeerexitentialfear]

i love it when shit happens in my life that dredges up old wounds and coincidentally im re-experiencing the media i intrinsically link it to cause then i get to remember exactly why i love it and find it so meaningful all over again. there's a fucking reason ill always say Berserk [& RGU] both came into my life at a perfect fucking time and holy shit they fucking resonated with me so hard and as much as life can suck ass and lovvves kicking me in the balls when ive just recovered from last time i a least get to remember how & why i love something so much.

[born-to-lose]

Missing people and regretting shit o'clock

[doggirlnarcolepsy]

.

[pepprs]

mission failed we’ll get em next time 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[thesmollestsnek]

Huh. I just realized that my hair is even longer than I think it is. Which is fuckin impressive, coming from me, considering. I normally think of my hair as waist length. But uhh, I showered just now and apparently it’s actually down to my hips? Which is fuckin wild, like damn. I know I literally never get haircuts but I somehow wasn’t expecting this, normally it’s in a braid and even when it’s down it’s wavy enough that I didn’t realize. There’s not like, an actual point to this ramble, just. I happened to look in a mirror right after showering and was surprised at how long it actually is, I didn’t think my hair could actually get this long, it’s never gotten more than like an inch below my waist before. I guess the most recent addition to my hair care routine’s been having even bigger effect than j thought.