#it's like a footballer rammed straight into my back and stood on top of my crumpled body for good measure ; ;

[miodiodavinci]

well 😔 after literally 3+ years of masking and double masking with N95s and KN95s and social distancing and not going anywhere where i can't be assured i won't be in close proximity to someone with COVID ya boy got COVID , , , ,

[intheturning]

The heart opens

I have been meditating through the heart. For the most part this has felt like a familiar meditation. Familiar experiences, the quieting of the mind, the creation of a distance between the floating of random thoughts and my awareness of the thoughts. I witness. The heart meditation leads more quickly to states of bliss, of being lit from the inside with love, like a strong sun, quickened by the Ram Dass mantra, ‘I am loving awareness, I am loving awareness, I am loving awareness’. I have increased the frequency of practice and the length of the meditation. This time something different happens. After maybe half an hour, Unexpectedly, I find myself moving through the flat in Anderson place in Cardiff where my Nana used to live. My father’s mother. We would visit every Saturday until I was thirteen when my life as I knew it began to dissolve. I have memories of the place, largely held at arm’s length, as though seen through glass, but now I am stood there, looking. I am seeing detail from the reservoir of my recollection that I had forgotten.

I move through each room. There is no one else here. I am visiting the space alone, although it is furnished as it used to be. Through the black slat wooden gate to the shared yard where ball games were not allowed, and forbidden rat infested bin shelter. Up the stairs. Black rail, concrete steps inlaid with strips of grip. Every word and footstep echoing my infant feet and voice. Heavy door with a weighted closing mechanism. Utilitarian door of council flat with small reinforced glass pain. Through the dark entrance hall, coat rail ahead. Turn left. Either side are bathroom left and bedroom right. I go straight on to the living room. Three chairs and a sofa. To the left a rocking chair, sturdy with a sliding mechanism rather than rails. Hung above, a bamboo and plastic back scratcher and shoe horn with its tiny hand pointing downwards. Wooden armchairs with thick flat wooden arms and upholstered thick, flat cushions of foliate design. Between them, a display cabinet of things beyond touch. The contents of which I can’t see, apart from a couple of glass clowns, both intriguing and repulsive to my young eyes. To the right of the second armchair, a folded table perhaps, with a clock on it that my father would wind with a key that was hung near the back scratcher in a tiny key house.

There is a table with legs carved in spirals where we eat against the right hand wall which is all windows. Reinforced frosted safety glass at the bottom, clear at the top. I am standing against them as a child trying to look down to see the root of the wall below. On international days I would open the window to hear the anthem ring across the city, half a mile away. When we eat, the meal is always the same. We have salad for lunch. In the evening we have soup. Nana is delighted that she mixes up different tins together to get hybrid flavours. The top of her soup is white with salt. The TV is the sound of Saturday in the seventies and 80’s. In the daytime, grandstand racing, wrestling, five nations. Later the drone of the scores from each of the leagues, and filling out the football pools. In the evening it’s basil brush and Larry Grayson and the ghoul Savile fixes it. I lie on the sofa, feel the large cushions with small vibrant pink roses fall on me. There is a mirror above. On the floor is a round rug, concentric blue yellow circles which I had forgotten, but can see now.

I get up and walk to the kitchen, sink ahead. The taste of Cardiff tap water which is harder than in the valleys. He’s a real Taff isn’t he, my aunts and uncles would say. To be from Cardiff, for them at least, meant they were a cut above. Cooker is to the left, where Nana would butter toast on both sides and put it back under the grill. I likes lots of butter. I likes lots of salt. Window above the sink looking out onto the railway lines. I would watch the train come from the west, from Swansea and beyond, in the lounge window, and run to the kitchen to see it carry on to Newport. Nana’s retelling, retelling of the trains that span the whole length of the views, were the first sign that all was not well. Pantry to the far right. Tall cupboard, where Nana kept her boiler stick, long running source of humorous threat. I’ll get you with my boiler stick. She would delight in us as children. The bathroom is imperial leather. She would put a chair upside down on the toilet in case anyone tried to get in through the tiny window. Across the hall is her bedroom. She didn’t like us going in there. When I did it smelled of makeup, and faint whiffs of perfume. Even more faint memories of city lights at night through the bedroom window. A phone. We didn’t have one at home until I was a teenager, so winding the dial was gleeful. A teasmade. Big mirror on the wardrobe, where I would try to outrun my reflection.

 I understand that this is a lesson. A reconnection to something that I had denied. I am overwhelmed by a feeling of love that I recognised at that time. Not just love, but of belonging, although I never felt I belonged here as I did at my other grandparents home. It is belonging to an extended family, before the whole became fractured. It is part of myself that I have shut away because the loss of it hurts. My heart is open where I had closed it.

My father left home and moved back in to Anderson place. Visits stopped then. Nana’s health began to decline at the same time of my parents’ divorce. I heard that she was answering the door in rages, no longer recognising him. I saw her briefly at events. A birthday party, 89 perhaps, like the year. Hospital visit. My father would take me to the hospital that she stayed in when her brain was destroyed by dementia. It was somewhere in Ely. I went a few times as a passenger in the yellow Austin Maxi but couldn’t find it today if I tried. Two fat friendly King Charles spaniels roamed free in the grounds and would greet us on arrival. There is a large hall, with people like shadows roaming, smells of cooking and disinfectant. Light from skylights above. Colourless, white and grey. Nana sits. Her eyes are just holes. She looks at me but there is no answer to my gaze. Whatever moved there before has been incinerated and I see only ashes and char.

When the heart opens, it opens in all directions.

[tears0fsatan]

For your event could you do "I can't stop thinking about you" and "I'm gonna make you scream my name" with bottom Beelzebub x male reader? Maybe a oneshot or a drabble?

𖥻 characters... beelzebub x m!reader

𖥻 genre... nsfw oneshot

𖥻 warnings... nsfw!! minors, ageless blogs and fem aligned will be blocked, amab!reader, soft dom top!reader, bottom!beelzebub, established relationship, mainly making out!, dirty talking, bit of begging?, implied size difference [ur bigger], a lot of praise hehe, d-dry h-h-humping..., mating press lol

𖥻 a.n... kinda in awe at how u two managed to request the same thing 😭😭 IT'S SO PERFECT???? n thank u for the support honeys!!! wouldn't be here if it weren't for u darlings ૮Ꮚ ´͈ ⁄ ⁄ '͈꒱Ა i mention beel playing fangol but im not american n i dont understand how american football works! so if its wrong idc my version's better.

🌐 % 3V3NT H3R3 @ __★

beads of sweat rolled down the avatar of gluttony's face, the students watching the tense game of fangol cheer him on, though he had long tuned them out.

he forced himself to focus on the game and the game alone, urged on by the brief glimpse of you from the edge of his peripheral vision. he blocked out all possible distractors, even his hunger subsided in order to keep his eyes trained on the oval ball.

he rammed into blurry, indiscernible 'walls' and jumped at the first opening he got to steal the ball. he clutched the growling ball tightly against his chest, regardless of how much it drooled and snarled in his arms. beelzebub ran to the opposite side of the field, knocking down those who dared cross his path with ease.

throughout the game, the demon would continuously score points for his team, which lead to their victory. by the end of the game, the opposing team simply collapsed on the field, out of exhaustion and realisation that the demon lord was far too out of their league. the demon lord stood in line with his team though his eyes were too busy scanning the crowd to find you.

once he found you, the biggest grin spread across his face. it was as though all the fatigue left his body, he jumped up and down excitedly, arms waving around despite his sore muscles screaming against it. beelzebub felt refreshed when you grinned back at him, relieved at the thumbs up you gave him.

he ignored his fellow teammates as they congratulated him on another win, their words going through one ear and out the other and beelined straight for the locker room. as he showered, the hunger he had put aside to put everything into the match came back at full force, which unfortunately slowed him down.

he nearly doubled down from the wave of pure gluttony that hit him at full force, he could feel himself lose control, he was on the brink of going into his demon form. still, he managed to hold on to his last thread of control and quickly rinsed off the sweat that coated his skin. he clumsily tied his towel around his waist and staggered to the lockers, desperate to get to the stash of food he kept for moments like this.

you had waited until all his teammates had exited the locker room before sneaking in. it didn't take you long to find the shirtless demon, water droplets rolling down his toned back. you quickly pulled out a bag full of his favourite pastries from your schoolbag, rushing over to deliver it to him.

"good job out there, sweetheart." despite knowing you yourself would get wet, your arms wrapped themselves around his waist and you buried your face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. you made a show of rattling the bag filled with goodies and he wasted no time in tearing it apart and shoving his face full of food.

"mmm mmf." you chuckled at the muffled thanks, understanding what he was trying to convey and let him finish the bag of food before pulling out another one you kept hidden. beelzebub took the bag with less urgency than before, and turned around to face you.

he looked at you with what you could only describe as puppy dog eyes, gratitude overflowing from his gaze alone. you moved your arms that were resting loosely on his waist to both sides of his head, pressing him against the cool metal of the lockers.

"you looked so cool before, beel." you continued to praise him which earned you a wide smile with his cheeks filled with food that reminded you of a hamster.

he quickly emptied the bag without much difficulty and asked, "really?" you smiled and nodded your head enthusiastically, leaning down ever so slightly to press a chaste kiss on his crumb-covered lips.

it wasn't long before the sweet and sugary kiss turned into something a bit more feverish and heady. you felt something brush against your back before the demon's hands held onto your shoulders. his fingers dug into your muscles and you knew there would be bruises from how hard he was holding onto you.

you only pulled apart when you ran out of breath, beelzebub chased after your lips, looking up at you with hazy, half-lidded eyes that screamed 'want more!'. you wasted no time in showing his neck some love, licking at the water droplets that made their way down the thin column. beelzebub craned his neck upwards so you could have better access and you rewarded him by sucking on the skin, leaving a dark bruise on the otherwise unmarked skin.

the demon keened at your actions, his hips subconsciously grinding against yours. his pants were rushed yet quiet, his eyes squeezed shut and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. you had to pull away now before things got too heated.

"i can't stop thinking about you," you nosed his neck, "i was holding back since i wanted to go easy on you but then i saw you at the game," you paused, lifting your head from his shoulder, "fuck, you looked so good i nearly jumped down onto the field and took you there and then." the flush that stemmed from the tips of his ears slowly made their way down his neck, and you smiled against the now rosy skin.

you straightened yourself and gently cupped beelzebub's face. his face was turned away from you and that just wouldn't do. your thumbs lightly stroked his cheeks until his eyelids fluttered open.

"when you get back home... come to my room immediately." you leaned down to whisper in his ear, "i'm gonna make you scream my name, peach." you gave him one last peck before walking off, throwing him a wink on your way out.

beelzebub stood there for a moment before his knees buckled below him. his hands flew to his face to cover up his reddening face despite the fact that he was alone in the locker room. his pupils shook and his lips quivered, he had never felt that flustered before and he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

he rushed to clothe himself and leave with a newfound urgency, eager to get back home and have you take care of him.

beelzebub stood in front of your door nervously, shifting his weight from one leg to another. he had contemplated knocking on your door for a while now, but he couldn't find it in himself to go through with his thoughts. almost like you could sense him, the door in front of him suddenly opened.

you smiled, delighted at the demon's obedience. you quickly took a hold of his wrist and pulled him into your room, shutting the door roughly behind him before he could even greet you.

you pushed him against your door, taking pride in his shocked expression. you pressed your body against his, nuzzling your face into the juncture where his neck and collarbone met, letting him feel just how excited he made you. you heard a small, quiet gasp from above your head and felt his heart race.

he was frozen for a minute, unsure of where to put his hands and where to look. you encouraged him with a kiss on his clavicle before moving to lick the mark from earlier, which seemed to snap him out of his short lived reverie. his hands shakily held onto your shoulders, before hesitantly wrapping them around your neck.

"do you know how crazy you make me?" you muttered half-heartedly into his skin, not really expecting him to hear you. though from the way his cock twitched against your own, it seemed he had picked it up. you continued to nibble along his collarbone while one of your hands moved to hold his waist, bringing it impossibly closer.

he rolled his hips, which made you detach yourself from his skin and the two of you groaned simultaneously. beelzebub immediately clamped his hand down on his mouth, eyes wide and welling up with tears while the flush on his face spread farther down his body.

you lifted one of his thighs and held it close to your hip, bucking your hips against his. the avatar of gluttony let out a sharp gasp while you let out a shuddered breath. you did it once more, panting into his neck as a shiver went down your spine.

above your head, you could hear beelzebub trying his hardest to suppress the noises that threatened to spill past his lips. the demon fed into your intoxicating temptations, grinding against your erection in response to your kisses.

his movements were urgent and desperate, he couldn't seem to get enough of you. you took notice of this, how he was trying to take control of the situation and flip the dynamic between the two of you. you hummed against his skin, using the hand that was holding onto his thigh to squeeze his ass.

he loudly gasped, dropping the hand that was muffling his voice out of shock and you took that opportunity to pull him towards your bed. you pushed him down onto the soft mattress, holding back your chuckle at the way his body bounced and the innocent surprised look he gave you.

you were quick in straddling him, using the fact that he was sat upright to take his shirt off. you kissed him before he got the chance to cover his face again, your hands caressing and massaging his upper body. you grinded down on his clothed cock, swallowing down his whines at the gesture.

you use the moment you ran out of breath to push him down, taking a couple of deep breaths to drink up his appearance. his orange hair, still slightly damp from his shower earlier, splayed across your pillows that gave him a halo effect, the flush that started from the tips of his ears and traveled down to his navel, his half-lidded eyes that appeared to be glazed over, everything about him was simply breathtaking.

you must've been staring him for too long, as the hand from earlier slowly made it's way back up to cover the lower half of his face and his eyes averted your greedy stare.

you pouted while your hands teased his chest, massaging the firm muscles he worked tirelessly to achieve. his eyes would occasionally glance back at you, only to look away when he saw your pout. he brought his other arm up as well, trying to shield himself away from your shameless non-verbal begging.

"c'mon baby, don't be like that. let me see your face, hm?" you gently tried coaxing him to move his arms away from his face, peppering kisses on his jaw. beelzebub keened and shook his head, the blush that peeked through seemingly growing darker at the praise.

"awh, won't you let me, peach?" you quietly mumbled into his ear, moving down to leave marks on his unmarked neck. he whined once more, back arching into your chest at the pet name. the demon was slow to move his arms away from his face, embarrassment slowly crumbling down at your gentle touches.

your hands inched closer to his erection and you had to restrain yourself from cooing at the wet spot on his shorts. you palmed him through the material of his shorts in a way you knew would get him squirming.

his hips bucked into your touch, his body more honest than his words. his cock ached to feel the warmth of your hand without his boxers and shorts getting in the way, yet he couldn't find it in himself to tell you verbally.

you sat upright to look at him properly once more, "can i take this off, honey? you have to tell me or i won't do it."

the demon glances at you before turning away, for a second you're worried that he won't say anything until you hear, "please," his hands hid his face once more, "please take them off, mc." he pleads, voice hoarse from suppressing his groans.

his begging left you flustered, you weren't expecting him to reply so eagerly. his cock twitches in your light grasp, which snaps you out of your dazed state. you bit your bottom lip with a new found thirst, raising your knee to sit by his side while you pulled off his shorts.

his cock sprung up after being released from the tight constraint, precum dribbling out of the tip at the sudden exposure to the cool air. you reached over to grab the lube you had conveniently placed by the bed earlier that night and turned back to the demon before you.

you could see him peeking from behind his hand when he felt you bending his knees, curious as to what your next move would be. you kissed his knee while squeezing lube onto your fingers, "just relax, sweetheart. i'll take good care of you."

a single digit slowly sinked into his tight hole and you made sure to mumble praises to help beelzebub loosen up. he's still tense, but you don't comment on it, instead focusing on pumping your finger in and out of him at a calm and steady pace to begin with, his panting picking up the more you worked him open.

you could hear the soft grunts that slipped past his lips and decided it was time to add another digit. you watched on with amusement at the way his body squirmed around at the feeling, drawing out whines and whimpers that he tried hard to stifle.

his thighs press together and you tut, using your free hand to pry his legs apart. even though he was hardly putting any strength into keeping his legs closed, it was hard to forcefully keep them apart.

"mmm, mc, m-more, nng!" his voice cracks, voice heavy with lust and need. you soothe him with a 'shh' while your free hand massages his thick thighs. despite his protests, you continue to finger him, only pulling your slick fingers out after grazing his sweet spot.

beelzebub gasps, eyes shooting open at the short lived pleasure that shot up his spine. you see his hole clench around nothing and you see him staring at you, waiting patiently for you.

you give yourself a few quick pumps before lining up to his hole. you use his knees as a leverage to push yourself in, your hands caressing his skin to help ease him.

"relax, peach, you're- fuck, too tense." you curse under your breath, your cock sinks in at an agonising speed, you have to dig your nails into your palm to stop yourself from just ramming into him. the both of your groan in unison when you finally bottom out, you let him relax and get used to your cock before you shift positions.

you bend his knees into his chest and grab a hold of both of his wrists with one hand while the other presses down on his thigh. as you set a brutal pace, you also grab a hold of both of his wrists and pin it to the space above his head. you can see that he's stunned but one sharp thrust and his eyes are squeezed shut and his hands jerk in your grasp.

a loud cry rips from his throat followed by a series of high pitched whimpers, his body contorts underneath you, like it's not sure if it wants to get away from you or if it craves more of your touch. you smile and lean down to peck his trembling lips, pressing your body impossibly closer to his.

his arms struggle in your hold, desperate to escape and cling onto you but you didn't ease up. instead, you use the hand that clenched his thigh to stroke his twitching cock. precum had pooled on his stomach from the lack of attention, and you can't help but let out a breathy chuckle at the sight of it.

"you leaked so much, sweetheart... are you feeling that good, hm?" you ask in amazement, swiping your tongue across your bottom lip when beelzebub just eagerly nods in response.

his head further into the pillows, his back arching so high off the bed that his knees press into your chest. his mouth is hung open and he's mumbling something, you can barely make out the words he mutters like a mantra.

"mc, mc, mc, more, mc..." your grin is proof enough of how proud you are with yourself. you look down at the demon who can hardly keep his eyes open, though it wasn't exactly as you promised, you had achieved your goal. the night was young, you had more than enough time to draw out his screams.

with your rough thrusts and the relentless teasing of his sensitive cock, it doesn't take long for the demon's orgasm to build up. you take note of the way his thighs and hands tense up, gritting your teeth when he clenches down hard on your cock.

beelzebub cums with a long groan, his nails leaving crescent shaped indents in his palms from how much he strained against your hold. you stay still while he catches his breath and you release the hold you have on his wrists to wipe away the tears that trickle down his face.

you lean down to kiss him, smirking against his lips when he lets out a confused whine when you roll your hips once more.

"oh i'm nowhere near done with you, honey. didn't i tell you? i'm gonna make you scream my name until the only thing on your mind is me, got it?"

© 2022 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t repost, modify or translate my works anywhere!

[desiraypark]

First of all, congrats on 200 sweetheart!! You deserve it so much! So, the request: Flip x Mae. Make up sex. That's it. These two are like fire and gasoline and I love them so much ❤️

Thank you so much!!! :) This was longer than it was supposed to be omg, lol.  Content: Couple’s spat; smut is all the way at the end lmao (unprotected) and it’s more of a quickie, I hope this is okay!  Okay, so this takes place within about a year (maybe two) of Flip x Mae officially being a couple. Where do they live? I don’t know. Or do I...

Mae was curled up in a tight ball, as far away from Flip as possible. She stirred and her eyes fluttered open at the feeling of fingers near her elbow and lips on her shoulder. She groaned and tried to scoot away, but her body was too heavy with sleep. “Good morning...” he said. Mae pulled the blanket up over her arm and Flip avoided being smacked in the face with the material. He chuckled and kissed Mae on the cheek. “I’m sorry, babe...” He rested his cheek against hers. “Mm-hmm...” she mumbled. “I am...” “How do I make it up to you?” he asked. ____________________ The Night Before Every tenant’s cooking smacked Flip in the face as he walked through the apartment building. But he knew Mae’s cooking. She definitely had them beat. He dragged his aching feet up the steps to apartment D, where he and his lady lived (“in sin” - according to Mae’s mother). He opened the door and let out a sigh of relief.  “Hey, Honey,” Mae called from the kitchen. “You’re right on time.”

Flip sauntered into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist. Then, he nuzzled his lips against her neck. She was pulling fried pieces of fish from a skillet. 

“Long day?” she asked. “Yep,” he said. “I just wanna eat and go to bed.” “No football tonight?” Mae asked, shock in her voice. “Nope. I’m that tired, doll.” Flip gave her a peck on the cheek, walked out of the kitchen, and into their bathroom. As he stood over the toilet and relieved himself, he got a good look at their tiny bathroom--tiny in comparison to what he had in Colorado Springs and even what she had in Miami. On the right side of the sink was his shaving cream, razor, and deodorant. On the left, him and Mae’s toothbrush and toothpaste holder (with toothbrushes and toothpaste, obviously) and Mae’s Noxzema...and her Pond’s cold cream...and her Ultra Sheen conditioner...a little comb.

On top of the toilet (over the cutest crocheted toilet cover, he had to admit) sat her shampoo and conditioner, another comb, and a random makeup applicator. He couldn’t move any of the stuff either--for the bottom of the sink was damn near filled to the top with Fashion Fair cosmetics, more hair products, perfumes, and perhaps a five-year old. Who knew? 

Flip sighed, shook himself dry, and washed his hands. Then, he went into the bedroom to change into some house clothes.

Mae was setting plates of food on their little table when Flip walked into the kitchen. She smiled at him as he walked over and pulled out her chair. He helped her slide in before sitting across from her. They took their first bites of dinner, and Flip finally spoke. “Babe, do you really need all that stuff you have in the bathroom. It’s getting a little cramped...” Mae raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I can get rid of a thing or two.” Flip grunted and parroted her. “A thing or two...” “Are you trying to call me messy, Flip?” she asked. “No...” he answered. “Just...our bathroom isn’t but so big. Half of that stuff you don’t even use.” Mae straightened her spine. “You don’t what I use and don’t use.” “Look, Babe, I’m not trying to start a fight,” Flip said. “It’s just when I come home and take a piss, I don’t wanna see Macy’s cosmetics counter all over the fuckin’ bathroom...” He didn’t raise his voice, but he might as well had. “Why are you cursin’ at me Phillip?” “It’s just a lot, Babe. Besides, you’re too pretty to puttin’ all that crap on--” “Unh-uh, don’t you go there with yOu’re tOo prEtty fOr mAkeUp mess, trying to soften me up,” Mae interrupted. Flip put his hands up, fork still in his right hand. “Baby, all I’m saying is you’re probably going a little overboard in the beauty sections. Sometimes I feel dirty when I walk in there, Babe.” Mae stopped eating and leaned back in her chair. “So, now I don’t clean the bathroom.” Flip rolled his eyes, dropped his fork and rubbed his temples. “Should I just drop it?” “You should.” Flip and Mae ate in silence. Mae hopped up from the table first to take her dishes to the sink. She filled the sink with soapy water, and Flip walked over with his dishes. They always washed and dried the dishes together, but Mae swiped up his silverware and snatched the plate out of his hand. “I’ve got it,” she said, dropping the utensils and plate in the water. Flip stood shocked for a few seconds, then he shook his head. He reached into the cupboard for the Pyrex. “I said, I’ve got it,” Mae repeated. “You’re gonna clean all this up by yourself?” Flip asked with a sarcastic tone. “It’s not like I did shit else today, with me being a shopaholic bitch who doesn’t keep her home,” she said.  Flip shoved the Pyrex dishes back in the cupboard. “You know what. Fine with me. Good fuckin’ night.” “Good fuckin’ night to you, too,” Mae snapped back.  ____________________ “How do I make it up to you?” he asked. Mae tilted her body further away from Flip, but he felt her cheeks moving. He sat up and looked down at the dent in her cheek--her chewing on the inside of her mouth, trying not to smile, he knew. He gave her face another kiss, but she turned over her stomach and buried her face in her arm. Flip ran his fingers down her back.  “Mmm, giving me your ass to kiss huh?” he asked. He pulled back the blankets, climbed on top of Mae, and yanked up her nightgown. He leaned down to plant kisses on her panty-less ass.  “Don’t you have a job you need to get to?” Mae asked, her voice muffled.  “Gonna do this rim job first,” Flip said, spreading her cheeks. Mae squealed and squirmed under him. Flip laughed and climbed off her, letting her roll back on her back. 

“You’re fucking crazy,” she said. Flip stared into her eyes, then leaned forward and kissed her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.” Mae flashed a mischievous grin and lifted her knees. “How sorry are you?” 

Flip grinned and climbed between Mae’s legs. He held her knees open and without hesitation, sucked her clit into his mouth. He pulled away for a second. “I’m just gonna get you wet, and then I’m gonna give you some fuckin’ dick so I can get ready for work,” he said. Mae laughed. “Fine with me.” Flip licked and sucked Mae up, drinking every drop of juice that drizzled out of her--wetting every fold until she glistened in his view. His dick was hard in seconds. Soon, he sat up and lined up at her entrance. “Soft or rough?” he asked. “Mmm, rough. So you can get the fuck outta here,” she joked. Mid-giggle, Flip rammed into her and she yelped. 

“That’s what you get, smart ass,” he said. 

He stroked her velvety walls for less than a minute before he grabbed her legs, pushed them back, and rested his body over hers--slowing his pace, but slipping in deeper, and barely pulling out.  “Ohhhh, fuckkkkk,” Mae groaned.  “Mmmm,” Flip hummed. “Did you take your pill?” “Yes, I took my pill, Flip. Stop asking me that every time we fuck, just fuckin’ nut in me!”  Flip grinned and picked up his pace. He interlocked his arms over Mae’s head and slammed his hips against her body. Her nails dug into his back, providing him with the sweet sting he needed to near his finish. He pressed into her one hard time, and filled her up with his seed, mumbling another expletive in her ear. Mae ran her fingers through his hair, letting him ride out his wave. “Alright, big boy. Get your heavy ass off me,” she finally said. Flip chuckled and sat up, but he didn’t pull out of her. He kept her legs up, kept fucking into her, and rubbed at her clit the pads of his fingers. Mae bit her lip and sat up on her elbows, jaw lax, taking in the sensations. “I’m not leaving ‘til you come,” he said. “Oh, Baby, it’s fuckin’ happening...” she mumbled, her pupils dilated and eyebrows raised. Then, her head flew back and she let out a cry straight from her gut. She came and squirted under Flip, and he kept rubbing and fucking, rubbing and fucking. When she neared the end, she started squirming away from him. “Stop, Flip!” she shouted with her face covered. He yanked himself out, leaned forward, pushed her hands away from her face and pressed them down at her sides. Then, he devoured her mouth and peppered her face with soft kisses.  “I’ll miss you all day,” he said.  “I’ll miss you, too,” she said back. “This was too short, I might have to finger myself when you leave.” “Nope,” Flip said, pushing her hands further into the mattress. “I missed Monday Night Football last night, I need you to make up for it.” “Me?” Mae asked. “Make a halftime show out of you playing with that pussy for me,” he said.

Mae chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do, Coach.” ____________________ Flip walked in and smelled the food from last night. 

“Hey, Honey,” Mae said from the kitchen.  “Hey, Babe.” He walked into the kitchen just in time to see her bent over and checking on something in the oven. He sauntered over with an opened palm.

“Don’t you do it,” she said, standing up and closing the oven again. Flip froze and laughed. “I’m just foolin’,” she said. 

She walked past Flip, batted her false lashes, and looked over her shoulder. He bit his bottom lip, and his eyes traveled down to her ass. He gave it a nice little smack. They laughed and Flip pulled her in his arms and kissed her. Mae pulled away and ran her fingers through his hair. “Go on and get ready for dinner, Baby,” she said.

Flip gave her another peck on the lips and went into the bathroom. He noticed that the sink looked a little lighter--just her Noxzema and cold cream sat on her side. Nothing was on the back of the toilet. He peeked out of the bathroom, checking to see if she had a view of him, but she was must have been digging in the fridge, out of the way of his view. 

He bent down and looked under the sink--probably a third of her cosmetics were gone. What was left (which was still a department counter’s worth, if you asked him), sat neatly in two little crates. Each crate had an index card taped to it that read “Mae”. On the other side were two more crates--both empty, but also had index cards taped to them. “Flip” written on both in marker.

[maxineswritingcenter]

Class Reunion -Sam x fem!Reader

Gotta give my boy Sammy some love.

Summary: Sam and Dean hit up a case in a town they lived in for Sam's senior year of high school. While on a supply run, Sam runs into reader who he dated that year. Reader invites him to the class reunion. Sam is hesitant but the case leads to the reunion. SPARKS FLY BITCHES

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It was the same old same old in the bunker. Nothing huge or apocalyptic was going on for the moment. But the cases seemed to be slim pickings. Sam was searching the world wide web for something, anything. Just as he was about to close the laptop and take a well deserved nap, a notification popped up. From the other side of the world map table, Dean looked up from his magazine and raised his eyebrows.

"I'm gonna assume that sound means a lead. Or something." He said and dropped the magazine on the table.

Sam narrowed his eyes as he read.

"What?" Dean asked as he came around to look over his brother's shoulder.

"So there have been reports of people being murdered in their homes. But there are no fingerprints, DNA or anything left at the scene. Just like the killer walked in and then vanished." Sam said as he scrolled through the news article.

"Sounds like it could be our type of case. Where's it at?" Dean asked.

Sam scrolled to the top of the screen, "Ojai, California." He chuckled at the name.

"Isn't that where you had your senior year and then dipped on me and dad?" Dean stood up straight. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I didn't dip. Dad told me if I left to not come back. So I didn't." He looked at his brother and shook his head.

"You know he didn't mean that." Dean tried to excuse him. But Dean wasn't even sure if he 100% believed that himself.

"Yeah. Whatever." He scrolled some more on the local news for the town then stopped, "No way." He shook his head.

"What is it?" Dean asked, the topic of their father temporarily forgotten.

"The reunion is this week. It's all over the town's local news. The murders are like a needle in a haystack." Sam said, trying to dig for more info on it.

"Well, pack your stuff Sammy, sounds like a case." Dean patted his brother on the back and made his way to his room.

-

Sam walked through the halls. It was his first day of senior year. Another new school. Another new town. He figured he should just keep to himself. Who knew how long they would be staying here. Hell, he came in halfway through the semester. Everyone already had their friend groups. Nothing really-

"Ah!" He ran smack into a smaller figure. The girl dropped every paper and they flew across the hall.

"I'm so sorry!" Sam said, scrambling to help her pick up the papers. He had a stack in his hand and reached to grab the last one when another hand touched his. He looked up and bonked heads with the stranger.

"Aw dammit." The girl said, rubbing her forehead, "I'm so sorry, I'm such a clutz." When they finally made eye contact, the mood changed.

"Hi." He said with a crooked smile.

"Hi..." The girl smiled. They both stood, he handed her his stack.

"I'm Sam. By the way." He said, holding onto the straps of his backpack.

"Sam." She repeated, "It's very nice to meet you. I'm (Y/N), student body president. Or at least that's the title. No one takes me seriously." She smiled, "You're new."

"How could you tell?" He chuckled.

"Small town. Everyone knows everyone." She shrugged, "And I think I would remember a smile like that."

"Hey!" Sam was brought out of his daydream by Dean smacking him on the shoulder.

"What?" He asked, blinking to clear his vision.

"You alright? You've been catatonic for like twenty minutes." Dean looked at him seriously, "You alright?" Sam always hated that look, like Dean was studying him.

"Yeah." He nodded, "Fine."

Dean shrugged, "Well we're here."

-

After a stop at the motel, Sam and Dean suited up in their FBI gear. They entered the sheriff's office with the badges at the ready. They approached a deputy and showed their badges.

"Agents Priestly and Forester, we're here about the homicides. Can we speak to the sheriff?" Dean said.

The deputy looked around nervously, clearing not accustomed to speaking with the FBI.

"Oh uh yeah, sure. This way." The deputy lead them back to the sheriff's office. The sheriff was a man around Sam's age, he was leaning on his desk, looking over a file.

The deputy knocked on the doorway, "Sheriff, FBI here about the murders." The deputy squeaked out the word. The sheriff looked up and closed the file, dismissing the deputy with the flick of this wrist.

"Come on in, fellas. I'm Sheriff Witicker." He looked from Dean to Sam as he shook their hands, and then stopped.

"Do I know you?" The sheriff narrowed his eyes.

Sam swallowed then smiled, "No. I, uh, just have one of those faces."

The sheriff nodded, "You must. You remind of this nerd I went to school with." He chuckled. Dean hummed, smiled at Sam and when he got the bitch face in return, he looked back at the Sheriff.

"So what do you have so far?" Dean asked, "Any suspects?"

"Not a clue. It's like the perp just walked in, scrubbed the place clean and walked out. All without disturbing a thing. We think that maybe there's some connection from the victims and the killer." He handed Sam the file to look over crime scene photos. The victim was someone Sam recognized.

"First victim was the coach at the high school. Throat tore clean open and partially devoured." Sheriff said, "Now Devin was a hardass but not enough to get murdered. We played football together. Same for the next Vic, Liza worked at the local library."

"Any witnesses?" Dean asked as he looked at the file in Sam's hands.

"Not at all." The sheriff sighed, "You guys gotta understand. We haven't had a murder in Ojai since 2001. And with the reunion coming up. Well, we're kind of on edge here."

"We understand." Sam said, "We'll look into this the best we can." Sam handed him a card, "Call us if anything happens." The sheriff took the card and nodded. The two left the office and went into the parking lot.

"Did you know that guy?" Dean asked as he looked over the car at his brother.

"Yeah. Made my life hell. Him and the rest of the football team." Sam nodded.

"And what about the other girl, Liza?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, "Name rings a bell but I didn't know her personally. I think she mostly stuck to herself."

"Like you, nerd?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

Sam pursed his lips, "Not funny."

"It's kinda funny." Dean got into the car, "Seems like a vampire to me. Like that nest in Hibbing."

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Let's just hope these are random and there isn't a pattern."

"Well, first things first, food. I'm starving." Dean started the car and they drove to the local supermarket.

-

Sam looked through the aisles with a shopping basket in his arm. He rather get his own food than Dean's assortment of junk and beer. As he turned a corner, a shopping cart rammed him in the waist. He doubled over with an oof, dropping his basket.

"I am so sorry! I wasnt-...Wait." he recognized that voice, "Sam?" She asked.

Sam held his stomach and looked up. It was (Y/N) not looking a day older than they did in highschool. She was wearing long black pants and a knit sweater. Her hair was short, it framed her face well.

"(Y/N).." he smiled. She squealed and came around, hugging him tightly. Sam chuckled and hugged her back. He had to lean down due to his height.

"Oh my God, it's so great to see you!" She said as she pulled away and looked up into his eyes, "What are you doing here?"

Sam had to think of something, anything that would make sense.

"I uh."

"You came for the reunion, didn't you?" She pointed at him.

He chuckled and showed his hands, "Guilty."

"I knew you would!" She blushed, "I mean uh... Maybe I was hoping." She shook her head, "Whatever. Um. Look at me, talking your ear off. You're probably busy." She rambled.

"I'm not." Sam couldn't even think really. Seeing her again was like a breath of fresh air.

"You're not? Oh uh... Would you uh... Maybe wanna grab lunch so we could... Catch up?"

"I'd really like that." Sam grinned.

"Hey Sammy, you want some-" Sam closed his eyes and cringed when Dean approached.

"Woah." Dean smirked and licked his lips, "I'm sorry about my brother here. Was he bothering you, ma'am?"

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him, "Oh please. I remember you, Dean. Come on. That's just sad."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Wait a minute. You're (Y/N)." Dean connected the dots. He laughed, "Man, I still don't understand how this guy caught the eye of a fox like you."

She looked at Sam and rolled her eyes, "Well, Sam. I'll see you later. Say 2:30 at the place we used to go? Same booth?"

"Yeah, sounds great." Sam grinned.

"Mom, can we go now? I still need to do homework for my law and society class." Everyone's attention was brought to a tall, brown haired, hazel eyed boy that came up behind (Y/N).

"Of course, honey." (Y/N) reached up and brushed some hair from the boys face.

Sam's mind seemed to go blank. This kid, (Y/N)'s kid... They had a striking resemblance. Dean blinked at the tall child and then at Sam.

"Sam, Dean." (Y/N) said, clearing her throat, "This is my son, Jared." Jared gave the two men a half smile and little wave.

"Come on." Sam whispered as he tugged on her hand. He pulled (Y/N) in the middle of the gym floor. The colored lights painting them in a soft purple glow. Prom was slowly coming to an end. But Sam wanted to make this special. He would be leaving soon and he wanted to give her the best night she could.

"People are staring." She said between her teeth. She had her hands on his shoulders, the flowers from her corsage tickled at his neck. She was wearing a beautiful blue gown with sleeves that came off the shoulder. Her hair was up and curled.

"Let them. You look beautiful." Sam breathed out the words.

"Sam..." (Y/N) blushed and smiled, looking up into his eyes.

Soon the dance came to an end but their night continued on the roof of the motel where Sam and his family were staying. He had laid out a blanket and pillows from the room. They sat there and looked up at the stars, pointing out different constellations.

Sam looked at her and suddenly kissed her cheek. It was an impulse and quieted her talk of mythology and lore about the stars. She stiffened and turned bright red.

"Sam..." She whispered, leaning in...

"Sammy." Dean waved a hand in front of his brother's face. Sam blinked, still trying to focus on what just happened.

"Did that kid-" Sam began.

"Look like your carbon copy? Yeah, he did." As the both walked down they aisle. Sam caught a glimpse of (Y/N) and Jared loading up their car with groceries. Jared looked up and made eye contact. Sam nodded, Jared did the same and then got into the car.

"Well." Dean said, "This makes this a little complicated." They made their way to the Impala with their bags.

"A little?" Sam scoffed, "Dean, that could be my kid."

Dean shook his head, "Nah nah nah, this isn't like Ben where we liked the same things. No this kid looks like someone took your DNA and cloned you." He shivered, "Two of you is the last thing I need."

Sam ignored him and instead was brought to his phone ringing.

"Agent Forester." He said as he answered.

"Hey, Agent, this is Sheriff Witicker. We found more victims." Sam's face went slack.

"Right now?" He asked. Vampires usually don't go out during the day like this. Not alone.

"Yeah. It's a blood bath in here." He said, "I'll send you the address."

"Thanks." Sam ended the call and looked up at Dean.

"You go the the restaurant, I'll check out the crime scene." Dean said and opened his door.

"What about-" Sam started.

"Dude, the vampire is the least of our issues right now. You need a paternity test." Dean got into the car. Sam stood there for a moment before he sighed and made his way into town. Thinking of all the questions he wanted to ask.

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NEW SERIES

Also I'm creative with names, did you know that?

Read part 2 here!

Taglist (shoot me an ask if you want to be added!):

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@beanie-beebo

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

@somebodyto-love

[raging-violets]

We Were Merely Freshmen - Chapter 8 Sneak Peek

“So, did your homecoming dress come in yet?” Gabby asked.

“Yes.” Cheryl’s voice was clipped, punctuated with the sharp way she flipped to the next page in her magazine. “But my dear mother got a hold of it before I did and decided it wasn’t something I deserved to have.”

Gabby lifted an eyebrow.

“It appears my math grade isn’t as high as she’d like it to be. Like my mother cares about my math grades. She hardly cares about me as it is.”

Gabby continued to watch Cheryl, who sighed a cleaning breath, bringing a hand up to run through her hair. Her eyes zeroed in on the dark bruise that sat on the underside of Cheryl’s arm, easily hidden by the sleeve of the long, thin robe she wore over her suit. “To go with my aesthetic,” she explained when Gabby questioned her about it if they were going tanning.

It was a mark that could’ve easily been mistaken for brushing up against the dresser in Gabby’s room when Cheryl was doing last minute work on the Vixens’ routine. But Gabby knew what it truly was. As much as Cheryl tried to cover it, it was difficult to cover the markings of fingers hard pressed into the skin.

Lowering her gaze, Gabby looked down at her own arm, gently rubbing her fingertips against her wrist. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but she could still feel the curl of her mother’s fingers around her wrist, dragging her to stand—back straight—in the corner of her room whenever she misbehaved.

“I expect more of you, Gabriella.” A distant Julia Rush said. In her mind’s eye, Gabby could see a younger version of herself, head tilted down, pigtails bobbing as she quietly cried, following her mother’s footsteps to the corner of the room. “Hey.” Julia knelt down, grasping Gabby’s wrists, forcing her daughter to look at her. “No more tears. You’re a soldier, remember?”

Gabby nodded.

“What was that?”

“’I’m a soldier,” Gabby replied.

“And?”

“And I’m strong.”

“Alright.” Julia stood and directly Gabby into the corner. “You can come out when time out’s over. Don’t you dare move until then. I want you think about what you did, Gabriella.”

“Okay, mommy.”

The same grasp on her arm, reminding her to be on her best behavior, to be her best self when her mother’s fellow officers were around. And Gabby would stand between her mother and father, smiling her precocious smile as wide as she could, knowing she’d be rewarded in some way once the boring meeting was over.

What she’d give just to have her mother to even stand next to her again. To look at her with pride the same way she would when she did something right. And that was taken away from her.

“Are you sleeping over tonight?” Gabby asked instead, brushing aside the memory that flooded her mind, and, once again, ignited her rage towards a certain Blossom twin.

“I don’t know, are the help still going to be here tonight?” Cheryl’s question was punctuated by a loud drill filling the air, making birds that perched on nearby branches of the trees surrounding the pool take flight. Cheryl flinched, bringing her magazine up to cover her head in case there was any loads dropped onto her.

“Not if they work fast enough,” Gabby replied. She rolled up her magazine and swatted Cheryl on the leg, making her squeal and bring it away. “And it’s your fault we need them here in the first place.” Cheryl widened her eyes as far as she could. “Don’t play innocent with me.”

And the girls collapsed into giggles, remembering the last party that Gabby had thrown. A rager that was typical for a Friday night in Riverdale. And typical for someone who’s father worked late with his clients nearly every weekend, taking them out to dinner to ‘smooze and booze’ them as Stephen explained. It went the same as usual, drinks abound, hooking up in almost every room, and a football player becoming a little too excited with the reenactment of a game—or maybe a premonition of what was to come with the Southside High game—and rammed a shoulder through a wall…and the railing of the stairs…and something happened to the basement toilet she wasn’t quite sure of.

Enough so that the damage was extensive, expensive, and her father had nearly blown his top. But Stephen had never really been a disciplinarian and although he looked at his daughter with exasperation, he hadn’t said much about it. Just called up a construction crew, slapped down a check, and disappeared to work.

“They should be done,” Gabby said. “They’ve been working on it for days now.”

“God, how do you sleep with all that noise?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything about the bags under your eyes, But you said it, not me.”

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