#readable noise

[readablenoise]

Radio, Live Transmission: A 28th Anniversary Retrospective on 103.1 The Buzz And It's Lasting Legacy On South Florida

(Pictured Above: 2008 Logo for the Buzz Bake Sale, WPBZ’s annual music festival)

While the station signed off the FM airwaves in 2011, its impact, disappearance and legacy remains prominent to this day.

There is one constant to which you cannot deny; in some facet, in some way, FM radio is heard at least once a day.

Be it in your local coffee shop while you wait for the frother to cease its hissing, inside of a Lyft or your own car, in a retail store (RIP to almost all K-Mart’s) or even perhaps in your own workplace, the medium itself is the oldest driver and receptor of auditory media consumption.

And while there are some television events that will forever be integrated into the ever growing, and increasingly strange fabric of reality, it can arguably be stated that none are as special as radio transmissions.

Think on your childhood. How many of those memories are associated with one of your parents driving in their car, blaring some of their favorite songs with the windows down?

What songs were playing in the background of your first kiss, the volume turned down just enough to hear and feel those first precarious breaths as you both leaned into the unknown?

What songs did your family member have on in the kitchen as they began dinner prep, and you took in the scents and sounds of what would influence you later?

Or maybe your own experience is similar to this particular writers: anxiously waiting to press record as you counted down the minutes to 7pm on a Thursday night. Because this night, tonight on an evening in late September of 2006, when The Killers “When You Were Young” is going to be premiered on The Buzz during Dropping Trou with Ross Mahoney. Finger hovering right over the record button of an old (but reliable) ocean blue boom box. You’ve checked the tape inside about a dozen times, and now you’re just waiting for this Green Day song to finish so you can click it.

Finally, you hear the queue come on for the segment and you mash the button. It’s the World Premiere of the first single from the follow-up of the Las Vegas act and though it’s more than likely being premiered across the country, it somehow feels special. It feels like this is the debut of it on your home station, and the rest of the country can wait.

The special thing about radio, is that every experience is unique. And while every community may or may not have their own rallying call, 103.1 The Buzz, call sign WPBZ, made it somehow feel like this community was the best damn one.

“I was working with a radio consultant at my current station at the time, who was also going to be the consultant for The Buzz. “ says Jason Davis, one of the original DJ’s at the station and host of the weekly Buzz Light show every Sunday morning. “I had expressed my desire to work at a startup modern rock station in a cool market to that consultant before. So when this station was being formed, he had me in mind and recommended I send in an audition.  I did, and the program director, Amy Doyle, heard it and thought it was awful. She called me and told me so, but said I came highly recommended by the consultant so she wanted to give me another chance.  I sent in another audition tape and she liked it, flew me down for an in-person audition, and made me a job offer before I flew back home.”

WPBZ operated in West Palm Beach from 1995 to 2011, being not only a stalwart beacon for alternative music as the sole provider for newer alternative and rock music in West Palm Beach, but provided a rallying point for the entirety of Palm Beach County.

“Everyone who worked there was young and trying to figure out life.” said Dan Stone, who also worked as a DJ on the station and now works as a voice actor and audio producer. “The music and city kinda felt the same. It was where I started to learn production on a DAW which gave me a career as an imaging director and eventually voice actor.”

In addition to the myriad of radio personalities, the station also held the accolade of the Buzz Bake Sale, starting in 1996, with the tagline being 13 bands for $13. The first ever line-up cultivated artists Evan Dando, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Primitive Radio Gods, Butthole Surfers and more onto Coral Sky Amphitheater’s stage.

During its 16 year run, the lineups grew to include Green Day, Reel Big Fish, Foo Fighters, Drowning Pool, Our Lady Peace, Muse, My Chemical Romance, Chevelle and AWOLNATION, to just name a small few of the headliners that graced the bill throughout the years.

“A memorable moment with an artist (there were many) was at the after-party of the '97 Bake Sale and we were standing around having drinks with Green Day.” replied Davis, who is now based in Atlanta as the News Producer for WSB-TV. “I (or someone) asked the singer, Billie Joe Armstrong, if we could snap a photo.  When it came time for the pic, he unexpectedly leapt into my arms. So in the pic, I'm cradling him with a shocked look on my face. Good thing he's a wee little fella and I didn't drop him. Unfortunately that was back in the olden days before digital cameras and the hard copy of the photograph is long lost.”

(Pictured above: The logo for the 10th Year of Buzz Bake Sale in 2006)

“Probably my proudest moment was staying on the air for 36 or 32 hours straight to raise 10k for Forgotten Soldiers. It still upsets me that the only thing people remember was the Handlebars bit.”, said former Buzz DJ Tre Nation, who now works with SiriusXM as an Imaging Producer. “Also, this may not be my proudest but it's one of the things that affected me the most. Standing on stage at Bake Sale and listening to John O’ Connell (Program Director for the station) thank the listeners and say good bye. I still pull up that video on YouTube every now and then and it still chokes me up to this day. I think we all knew what was going to happen, but we didn’t dare say it to each other. I remember walking back stage with Ross (Mahoney, former Buzz DJ and current Regional Vice President of Audacy Alternative) and out of nowhere he told me he loved me. Most would have thought that to be weird but, I knew why he did.”

The station also held sessions such as Buzz Lounge, a special in-studio acoustic performance by an artist. While the performances were broadcasted on air, a select number of listeners would also be allowed in studio to watch the performance, as well as a short interview between the band and one of the DJ’s.

The below performance, uploaded to YouTube of Yellowcard’s “Ocean Avenue” was one such example.

“Working with the other DJ’s & managers, we were truly a TEAM. A band of brothers. And we got to do basically what we wanted.” said Metal Mick McCabe, who was the Production Director for 16 years with the station, and is still involved with the radio industry today. “With the Alternative format, the weirder the better! John (O’Connell) and I really pushed the boundaries of poor taste and humor with the station imaging. ‘Why is it 103.1 The Buzz always sounds better to the hooker tied up in your trunk?' comes to mind…."

Some of the station’s hijinks and various other clips, including the earlier mentioned Buzz Lounge are still available to watch on the station’s archived YouTube page, buzz103 .

“What made the Buzz great was the freedom it gave its staff to say and do what they thought in the moment to entertain and connect with an audience.  The world has become so politically correct that those freedoms have all but been taken away from broadcasters and instead lives in the world of un-regulated podcasts.” answered Mark Rider, former Buzz morning show host who now works as a VA and whose credits also include narration for National Geographic and various commercial campaigns such as “Into The Spiderverse”.

“I’m not sure it would work in WPB.” Nation responded, when asked if he felt a station could operate such as WPBZ did in the current market. “The Buzz came on the air before WPB and Treasure Coast grew into what they are now. That hometown audience has been diluted. Too many people have moved away or just outgrew the music. They have also been replaced by new residents that aren’t necessarily going to support a rock station. A lot like Miami and Ft. Lauderdale. Now it would probably work in a market that’s a bit isolated like a Buffalo or Rochester NY. No one is moving to those places and no one really leaves.”

Since WPBZ’s sign off on December 5th 2011, the city and county remains without a true local alternative or rock station which incorporates newer acts into its rotation.

Currently, the only locally based station within the city range and county remains 98.7 The Gator (WKGR), and while a more modern song does occasionally grace the airwaves, it's playlist caters mostly to classic rock for both this generation and its predecessor.

“I was there for the sign-off. I was the DJ tasked with telling the audience that 'this is it'. I got to thank them and speak from the heart for a little bit. It was very emotional. I played the last song on the air before it switched to the pop station.” elaborates Davis. “The last song was a sweet full-circle moment, Midnight Oil "Beds Are Burning." I smile every time I hear that song since then. The people who were going to launch the new pop station were gracious and allowed me to be in the studio alone for my last break. And I started the song and remained in the studio with it nice and loud for about half the song as I choked back tears. I left the studio, went down the hall, closed an office door and let those tears go. It was like mourning a loved one.”

Since the hole left by the station, there have been an occasional few music festivals to take up the place of an annual local alternative music festival, but none have truly lasted.

Rock venues itself have come down to only perhaps half a handful of major players for smaller acts, which include Respectable Street in Downtown West Palm Beach, and both Propaganda and Bamboo Room in Lake Worth. The lack of a rock radio station in the county has resulted in a ripple effect which has reduced the live music market for Southern Florida to arena shows with exorbitant prices (resell tickets for My Chemical Romance’s sold out show in Fort Lauderdale were upwards of $400 for nosebleed seats, and near double the amount for other closer areas), and a lack of attention, desire and traction for local acts in the area.

A trend which Broward publication New Times noted in their tributary article following WPBZ’s sign-off. “Concertgoers will soon start to notice that fewer and fewer tours will come our way. After all, why should agents book tours to an area where there is apparently no rock market and no avenue to help in promoting? Not everyone uses the internet to find out what concerts are coming to their area; radio has a hand in that one, as well as bringing the sounds of new music to our ears we otherwise would not have known about. A lot of smaller alternative artists may not have had a fan base in South Florida if not for the Buzz giving them the necessary spins for listeners to discover them and venture out to experience them live.”

This may also attribute to why the stations fans remain loyally dedicated to this day, almost 12 years since its last transmission. The Facebook group, REMEMBER Buzz 103.1, currently has nearly 900 active members, with past personalities of the station often active on the group as well.

(Pictured above: Logo for the station from its inception to it’s final sign off)

“What a unique time.  Maybe the last time in American history will a format of music be so powerful in uniting an entire generation of listeners. The music was like a drug that we all couldn't get enough of.  We lived it, thrived off of it and needed it to be complete human beings learning how to grow up in such a strange time.” Rider continued, when asked of the experience working with the station.

“It was a thrill for me. I love the fact that I got introduced to, and introduced so many others to, bands that were unheard of at the time and ended up being some of our lifelong favorites. I waved the 311 flag proudly since The Buzz first started. Those guys are still chugging along with a loyal fan base 30 years later.” Davis stated.

There are still glimmering beacons of hope around the country for flagship alternative stations.

In the San Francisco Bay Area, Live 105 (KITS) returned to the airwaves on June 5th of this year, two years after going off air, when it was changed to Dave FM. And former Buzz DJ Ross Mahoney, as Davis states, “has been the King of Las Vegas radio for years now, and rightfully so.”

Davis continues. “These days I listen to a public radio station out of southern California, KCSN. They aren't 90's alternative rock like The Buzz was (hardly any station is these days, which makes sense). But they aren't beholden to ratings, so they can play what they want. It's very eclectic and they have lots of great specialty shows. You're not going to hear hard rock like Tool or Rage or anything. But you might hear some obscure Talking Heads, into Marley, into Garbage, into Jack White, into brand new Depeche Mode, into some new band you've probably never heard of, etc. You never really know what you're going to hear.”

Stone adds “I wish people demanded more from radio instead of letting corporations and hedge funds call the shots.  It’s a public trust and citizens could put pressure on the government to demand more live local content.”

Nation elaborates further. “Terrestrial radio is still the dominant platform. The reason people seek out other platforms is because of commercials and the fact that terrestrial radio lacks personality and won’t take real risks with new music and artists.”

“Radio as an industry destroyed itself when it decided that it was more important to focus on websites and apps than it did the connection between itself as a product and the consumer.” says Rider. “The clock is ticking like it has been for a long time now.  Radio as we knew it doesn't even exist anymore except for a few big major markets that still employ real people that actually live in that town.  Even though I am the station voice for over 30 radio stations around the country, I would be shocked if real personality radio is ever really a thing again."

The legacy that WPBZ instituted into the hot concrete of Florida remains a timeless and irrefutable staple. And it’s a token that the former personalities are thankful for.

(Pictured Above: Buzz Bake Sale 2006 Staff Photo, courtesy of Jason Davis)

“I’m incredibly grateful to have been a part of that station and its staff and to have experienced the leadership of John O. I'm also insanely thankful for the support and loyalty of the Buzz listeners. If my career would have ended with the station like it did for some, I would have considered my career incredibly successful. I deeply miss each and every one of you”, says Nation.

Davis adds, “I had so much fun hosting Buzz Light for all those years. Sure, it sucked to get up early most every Sunday (sometimes still "buzzed" from Saturday night) and drive in. But it was a true open format.  I could play what I want, play any request I wanted. Add any new music I wanted.  It was a blast.”

While it may be a more personal opinion, and perhaps even biased, it is an undeniable fact: South Florida has some of the most passionately driven music fans, and fanbases, of anywhere in the country.

It may not be the small-town hotspot that Washington is, or the underground chic that New York has always carried, but Florida is one of the most powerful markets.

Take out the tourism, strange animals, Florida Man and mounting news headlines against the state and look at its demographic.

Here are the young and in-between generation: a group which stands on a sinking piece of land that may very well be the next Venice, Italy. But we stand on its soggy, mosquito infested and sandy shores, supporting all our friends' bands.

We go to shows, even if our backs hurt and we have work the next morning. We mosh, sing our hearts out under a humid veranda of stars and then drive through the traffic the next day.

We wear band tees in the summer despite the fact that Gildan shirt brand clearly wants to kill us, because who else will rep these bands? Where else can we broadcast our love for new music, acts and show our passion for those acts which shaped our youth, along with the Buzz?

Local and national acts, once they come to the state and most especially West Palm Beach, seem to make a valiant effort to try and come on back once they do. Because they see a crazy, tired and passionately diverse group of people, who just want to sing the words we had etched in our hearts, right back to the people who gave us the words to begin with.

As Dio once said “The world is full of kings and queens, they’ll blind your eyes and steal your dreams, it’s heaven and hell”. And strangely, it encapsulates Florida pretty well.

Whether the FM radio will ever blast alternative once more, we carry that little piece with us.

The FM radio, playing softly in the background, narrating some of our favorite moments. In the car, in our room, and kitchens.

And where there’s a kid, getting excited to hear their favorite song on the radio, is hope for the next wave of possibility.

“The love and honest to God passion for this station is undeniably one of the most timeless things I have ever been a small part of and I am wicked proud to have been a part of such an amazing time in radio in West Palm Beach.” Rider stated. “There will NEVER be a tighter group of people who respected and understood each other more.”

-Jenelle DeGuzman

Additional Links:

The archive Buzz YouTube Page can be viewed here: https://www.youtube.com/@buzz103/videos

New Times full article, “RIP The Buzz 103.1 -- Goodbye South Florida Rock Shows?” written by the New Times Staff can be read in it’s entirety here: https://www.browardpalmbeach.com/music/rip-the-buzz-1031-goodbye-south-florida-rock-shows-6426023

The Wikipedia page for KITS, which has a partial and condensed history of the station can be viewed here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/KITS

The REMEMBER Buzz 103.1 Facebook Group Page can be found here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/242324635833984/

[chipistrate]

RUN.

Dr rabbit design belongs to @//stillangelxx (account is currently gone so it's slashed out, I'll update it once they're back!)

I think about this design constantly I love it sm- hope Angel doesn't mind me drawing it while she's not around,,, just a surprise for when they get back!

anyway ignore the lyrics I just needed to fill space lmao

[saiainopresai-v3]

some (very late) white day themed [pregame] saimatsu!

i meant to upload these sooner but i was figuring out scanning and. i think its. pretty obvious im still figuring it out. but! they're not too bad i think. ill figure it out as i go LMFAO

[altarfates]

[autisticlalna]

solar wanted to know what this art would look like if i did the fancy metal shading on tViking's arm. i delivered.

[lowstakesvampires]

[einarr, old norse] "you two are so young…" [rune, norwegian] "what does that mean?" [mort, norwegian] " i think he called us young." [einarr] "yes." [rune] "oh."

[aeide-thea]

From a thread by Twitter user @​mykola:

Ok, so, the following thread is going to be dense. I have a model of what I call "Identity Trauma" that is not exclusive to Neurodivergent people but so common among us that almost nobody can actually see it. Let me tell you a story.

When you are an infant, and you have needs that other people don't understand, nobody will be able to meet those needs. And so you grow up, from a very early age, with the empirical, evidence-based understanding that parts of you are not valid. Those parts don't shut up, tho!

Maybe you're an Autistic kid whose hearing is so hypersensitive that it's physically painful to you to be around your (large, joyful, boisterous) family. Maybe you're ADHD and your emotions are so strong that Everything! Feels! Extreme! Always! Whatever it is? It's not welcome.

And like, you try over your early life to communicate to people about this thing. And they don't believe you. They tell you "sometimes people are loud when they're happy, it's ok, don't be scared!" or they tell you "stop with the dramatics, you just want attention."

Every attempt to inhabit your full self is somehow curtailed, cut short, and you receive anywhere from a tiny bit to a WHOLE LOT of Shame for it. This leads to cognitive dissonance: do you listen to the part of you that says "this can't continue", or your caregivers?

(And remember, you're like six.)

The choice, for a sadly enormous percentage of us, is to trust our caregivers. They assure us we're fine. They assure us everyone deals with this, that if we just try a bit harder then we'll be okay. That part of us that's screaming? We start to wall it off.

It turns out we've got a lot of really useful construction material laying around in the form of shame. Every time that pain tries to get out? It gets shamed back in. So we just finish the process, seal it in.

Bliss.

Relief.

We can't hear the screaming anymore. We can now focus on making sure we trust our caregivers, instead. Except. By walling off that voice, that pain? We've walled off our relationship to our body. But something VERY IMPORTANT lives there: our identity.

Your identity is who you are. It's everything you know to be true, everything you value, everything you feel. It's the name for the sum total of the enormous Thing that you are. One part of that thing is letting you know about unmet needs. But it does so much more.

It answers every question you need to ask yourself. How does it answer them? By thinking about it? No. It uses embodied, somatic, axiomatic knowledge. This is important, read this a few times: It is not cognitive. It doesn't feel like thinking. It feels like feeling.

[…]

Emotions are one of the ways our body communicates with us. With one exception, emotions are signals from your body to your self. That exception is shame.

Shame is the only emotion that originates externally. Shame comes from other people instructing us to feel it. That's it. And if you are cut off from your body? It is literally the only emotion you are really in touch with. And so you organize your WHOLE LIFE around it.

Listen, this model I'm describing? This is codependency, right? Because what's happening: your "core" self, your embodied axiomatic somatic source of truth, is gone. So your identity is not grounded in your body. Where is it grounded? In the approval of those around you.

If you're dealing with this shit, I will now perform a magic trick and tell you something about yourself that you will realize you have always known but that nobody has ever pointed out before. There's a special class of relationship in your life. It's not friend, parent, lover or anything else you'll find a hallmark card for, although it frequently coexists with some of the people in these roles. But the special class of relationship you have is that set of people that you trust to tell you who you are. You have complicated feelings about them.

These are the people that you have tasked, often without their knowledge or their consent, to serve as the grounding for your sense of identity. They are your surrogate embodied self. And they hold unfathomable power over you. (This is why we are so susceptible to abuse.)

Healing is in part about taking back those parts of you that you have invested in other people. That was never a gift to them, that was not about love -- that was an abdication of your responsibility to be a PERSON. It's not your fault. You didn't know. Your self was taken.

[wander-wren]

hi, calling all fanfic writers and readers and also people who have Made Videos for a little help with a potential project.

disclaimer: this is, as i said, very potential and still in the Shiny New Idea stage, i’m trying to determine feasibility at the moment.

so, you know speedpaints, right? as in, timelapsed drawing video with music or narration laid over it. consider the same thing, but with writing.

(the tentative term at the moment is speedfic, which has some precedent being used this way, because speedwriting means something else. but i digress)

the idea is that i would post timelapsed videos of me writing short fics and explain my process, probably focusing on specific elements like worldbuilding, character voice, plot, etc. i could also talk about planning, editing, and maybe some other general fanfiction topics.

this leads me to several questions. the main one, of course, is “would anyone else even be interested in this sort of thing?”

but assuming that answer is yes—there are some logistical issues inherent in doing this with words that aren’t caused by doing this with art, namely the “speed” and “narration” bits, and lots of other fiddly little things.

so i guess i’m just asking what writers/readers would want from a project like this, any preferences as far as video structure/length/content, just anything, really. before i go chasing the Shiny New Thing, i want to know if it’s worth it

[jakehawkfield]

Rereading my draft for the very first time is so scary what if its garbage and makes no sense, what if theres nothing here and im delusional, whats this story even about i dont remember. Legitimately afraid to sit down and work on it cuz what if the last year of writing was for goop and muck

[isthemreadable]

Somewhat Readable

[actionyak]

me: "hmm I haven't listened to this album in maybe a decade, I wonder if I will still like it"

the music: Ṟ̴̛̛̘̦̾͋͗̄͐͊̆͛̌̓͒͝͝Ŗ̵̡͚̫͈̫̞̺͇͈͈̰͍̾̄͑́͊̐̓͛͑̈́̑̚͝R̸̢̡̢̢̘̙̙̯̻̗͉̀̉͐̆̃͐̔͊͂̕͜͠Ŗ̴̢̢͍̥̘͉͈͚̳̯̉͗̇ͅͅR̴̡͖̥̞̠̪̪͈̭̭͇̙̽̈̆̃̈́̇̇̇ ̸̱̈̑̅͘͝F̷̬̬̘̩͎̲̼̉͗͊̄̈̆̓̓͆̎̓͆͆͆̓̀̚Ù̵̡̡̦̮̩̗̖͙͚͎̦̫͎̑̿͋̉̆̓̑̂͘͝C̷̛̹̍͗̂̀̈͊̉͘͝͠K̴̨̧̠͙̻͉̙̠̐̇͛̿͐͋̑͗̂̿͠͝ ̵̧͎̣̲̟͍̩͓̱̠̙̺̹̘̈́͋̔̽͛͛͐̓̆̾͑͌̀͘Y̵̨̨̨̼͇̳̝̭̘͕̪̹̘̹͉͔͛́͑͗̀͜O̶̢͖̘͍̺̲̯̪̟̠̟̖͈̲̎̔̕͠U̸̡̮̗̦̦̤̟͔̠̳͙̓͋̏̔̏͜Ư̴̡̜͖̮̭̟͇͊̎̍̉̎̐͗͜͠Ư̴̧̩̮͇̖̳̻̗̭̠̫̣̹͕̽̽͛̏̒̓́̍͘̚̕

me:

[lovelyghst]

ex-boyfriend simon riley making you admit you still love him if you wanna cum <3

he can be such a jerk sometimes! calling you up one evening, claiming he was just wanting to check in on you and how you know how overbearing protective he can be sometimes, acting surprised when you snapped at him barely after his greeting.

“what has you so frustrated, hm, dove?… christ, can practically feel you seethin’ through the screen.”

you bit your tongue and gave him the truth over the phone; how he shouldn’t be calling you without warning like this considering you’ve broken up, and it’s inappropriate to be labeling you those sweet pet names you unfortunately and unknowingly still adore deep down.

how you don’t appreciate his abrasive bluntness, then again, he should know very well that you never have liked that part about him.

you told him the truth, though you couldn’t be entirely honest with him, in the sense of how fucking needy you’ve become with his absence. for touch and care, proximity and security, and all that.

but you are over him, undoubtedly, and you let him know that.

“yeah, baby, whatever you say…

…bet you rub that little cunt raw every night thinkin’ve me.”

and that shut you up quick.

he hummed in understanding, like your silence was readable.

“poor girl prob’ly hasn’t had any proper attention since i’ve been gone… shame such a pretty thing has to be so neglected, eh?”

butterflies invaded your tummy at the compliment, and you cursed yourself for your hasty, blind acceptance of it. but you can't blame yourself; what girl wouldn’t at least begin to crumble at that voice?

“i’m right, yeah?” he taunted, and it almost made you sick when you caught yourself rubbing your thighs together at his meanness.

“c’mon, sweetheart… you know you can be honest wi’ me.”

and god, was his cocky tone so infuriating; you wanted to reach through the phone and slap his smug face straight for overstepping your relationship’s boundaries so blatantly, and with such a deeply rooted nonchalance in his voice that always had you heated and wet.

“say the word, ‘nd i’ll come over and fuck you right now.”

…which is why you had eventually asked him oh, so nicely:

“please..?”

you could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, followed by the faint noises of boots hitting hardwood floor and then the clicking of a door’s lock, the obnoxious ringing of keys clanging together.

“just give me ten minutes, doll.”

and now, as he bullies and buries his cock deep in your warm cunt, reaching all those sweet spots you or another man could never even come close to, you can’t really think much of his misbehavior.

truthfully, you can’t think much of anything at all, at the moment.

he had teased you prior to finally managing his way inside you, for god knows how long. his mouth, his fingers, his cockhead; all had brought you to the edge rather quickly, over and over after each other, but he was yet to give you that final push.

he puts his full body’s weight on you, strong pecs pressed up against your heaving, sensitive tits, and his stubble tickling your neck unceasingly. you can’t stop squirming and writhing beneath him, and his hot groans right up against your skin aren’t helping, either.

it’s always been a feat taking his cock, being crammed in your precious cunt almost every night when you two were together, but now it’s been weeks, and you nearly forgot just how big he was.

you missed it, admittedly. all of it; the veins and ridges, the unforgiving stretch. the slight twinge of pain he always hushed with his fingertips pressing your swollen, little clit, or a calloused thumb shoved between your puffy lips to suck on and drool over to distract yourself.

you missed his stamina, his libido. most striking of all, his selflessness in the entire act. he’s a soldier, he serves you right. most times.

“fuckin’ christ, sweetheart… missed this tight, messy thing wrapped ‘round my cock… practically stranglin’ me ‘n with no remorse, eh?”

shit, and you missed his dirty talk most of all.

“gonna fill this pretty, little pussy… keep ‘er happy all night, make up for lost time with my girl.” he wraps his hand gently around your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you nod frantically, swallow as best you can, before sucking in a breath. “yeah— yes, please, si… i-i want it really bad… please.”

he kisses your lips with a smile, and then all over the side of your face, up to your forehead. he just can’t seem to stop kissing you.

“tell me, sweetheart. y’wanna cum, too?”

“i do, si—! i really, really do- fuck, please?” you beg and beg, and as much as it turns him on, digs at his heart to just give in, he sticks to his guns and merely adds:

“then say the words, pretty girl,” he coos, making you whimper in frustration. “that’s it, y’know what i wanna hear.”

you huff a whine in response, albeit your breath is strangled when he doesn’t halt his movements for even a second.

you really, really don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

he’s nearly panting himself, big chest and even bigger shoulders rolling upwards with every thrust. “y’ain’t cummin’ til i hear you say it, baby. c’mon, now. jus' admit it, that you still love me.”

he buries his cock to the very hilt, taking your slackened jaw tighter in his hand as he watches your eyes grow even hazier from his pelvis rubbing up against your vulnerable, needy clit. the stern look he gives you tells you he's serious about his last statement, but you'll later swear you sensed a bit of sadness, even despair in his expression.

“i love—” you choke on your own breath, desperate to sputter out the words. “i love you, si…”

and he practically has hearts in his eyes. “you mean it?”

“yes—! yes i do, i promise i still love you, please,” you spill, sounding closer to a temper tantrum than anything. “just lemme cum, please, si… really need it, please, i-i’ve been good...”

he hums lowly, contented, satisfied for once. as if those three words themselves — i love you — are the ones actually stroking his fucking cock. his ego maybe, you’d think, but jesus.

if you knew just how badly off he was beforehand, you never would’ve let him get this cocky and in control.

“love you too, sweetheart.” he kisses your puffed out lips, wipes a tear you hadn’t even noticed was trickling down your cheekbone. “always been my good, patient girl, haven’t ya?”

you nod once more, pinched brows and bleary eyes doubling in severity at his soft tone. simon praising you and being so, so uncharacteristically sweet has always made you fawn after more, even now. especially now.

“tha’s right, baby, you’re my good girl… now do me a favor and cum on my cock for me, yeah? lemme feel every last bit of ya.”

he ultimately resumes moving inside you, and it makes you wonder when he ever even stopped. your brain shuts off when he snakes a hand between your bodies, smoothing over your tummy before his middle and ring fingers quickly find your tortured, little bud. pressing hard, making you writhe with oversensitivity.

he works you over the edge diligently, and embarrassingly fast on your part, taking into account just how long he had edged you for. the sight and sweet noises you make are a dream; a reality he awfully missed, and something no other girl could compete with.

"that's it... easy, sweetheart," he coos softly.

he gives you a moment to come down from your high, softly palming your throbbing cunt to assist in grounding you, but you're barely able to finish catching your breath before he's doing it all over again! resuming flicking at your clit, rubbing you harshly and overstimming you enough to make you fruitlessly jolt and cry out beneath him.

he frowns down at you, damn-near condescending. "again, for me?"

you twitch and moan relentlessly as he gradually coaxes another orgasm from your tuckered body, his cockhead hitting that part deep enough inside you to make you see stars, his hard abdomen pressed against your tummy making the pressure of it all skyrocket tenfold.

the sensation of you finishing around his length once more has him barreling into his own orgasm, and soon fucking his pent up cum deep into your cunt with a few hard thrusts and a grumbled, broken groan right at your temple.

endless praises spill from his lips as everything becomes a blur for you; from the moment he's pulling out of your used cunt—crawling down and giving it and your pretty tits a couple sloppy kisses before briskly redressing himself—to being coddled in bed and squished between his muscular arms and torso.

he holds you so close to him that it makes you wonder why, or even how you could ever turn your back to it. he truly makes you feel like a spoiled doll in this sort of space. a doll with shaky legs, ruined makeup, and half a conscious.

"remind me why we broke up again?" he chimes.

you groan aloud, burying your face somehow further in his chest. "shut up, simon."

he laughs softly, pestering you with even more quick kisses, one after another to the crown of your skull. large hands rubbing up and down your back, moving to knead at your ass and thighs for a short moment. he just loves touching you so much.

“c’mon, pretty girl. let’s go get you cleaned up,” he mutters with an exhale. "how's a hot bath sound?"

you have no time to interject, other than a displeased pout and shake of your head, before you’re being hoisted up on your wobbly legs, then swept up and carried to your restroom when you couldn’t even make it three steps before your knees began to buckle on you.

you’re dizzy, utterly dazed and half asleep as he bathes you. making sure you don’t lift a finger as he works, treating you as nothing less than a princess. your loosened muscles somehow melt even more with his precise touch and strength, and you remember just how much you love being turned utterly numb and dependent on him.

you’re pretty sure you fell asleep the moment you were wrapped in a warm towel, pulled into the strong embrace of his meaty arms, but something he said moments beforehand had stuck with you.

“hey,” he whispered, soapy hand turning you to face him. he leaned in and kissed the area between your brows. “i’ll be better this time.”

“you promise?” you mumbled. your head fell atop your knees, arms wrapped around your legs and keeping them close to your body.

your extended pinky finger made him chuckle a bit, and he quickly looped his own around yours. solidifying his words. “promise.”

[greengoblinswifey]

Power Play—Lee Myung-Gi/Player 333 x Fem!Reader

summary— Despite your initial disdain, the connection between you and player 333 deepen with you taking control.

warnings— slight enemies to lovers, switch!myung-gi, fingering, oral(f!receving), praise kink, choking, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— He is so hot, fuck meeeee!

Every time you caught Myung-gi’s gaze, your stomach twisted in annoyance and something else you didn’t want to name. He had been staring at you again today, right after being pushed around by Thanos and his crew. You clenched your fists, hating the way he let them treat him like shit, and even more so, hating how his eyes always seemed to find you.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” you hissed, your voice sharp enough to cut through the noise of the room.

“Nothing,” he said. “Can’t look at a pretty girl?” He straightened slightly, brushing dirt from his sleeve with a calmness that only irritated you further.

“You know,” you said coldly, “you’re the reason my brother’s in debt. He’d be here if I wasn’t such a kind sister willing to risk her life to win this money for him. He’s expecting a baby.”

At the mention of a baby, Myung-gi’s gaze flickered briefly to Jun-hee, who sat nearby with a hand on her stomach. A muscle in your jaw tightened, and you hated how his eyes lingered on her just a moment too long.

“Baby, huh?” he said, his voice low.

You didn’t respond, turning on your heel before the conversation could dig under your skin any further. Your chest tightened with something ugly and unfamiliar, jealousy, maybe? You refused to name it.

That night, the room was restless. People shifted in their bunks, some snoring, others mumbling in their sleep. But you couldn’t sleep. Neither could Myung-gi.

You didn’t notice him approach until he crouched beside you, his voice a quiet murmur. “You’re really fucking pretty, you know that?”

Your breath caught. You turned your head, and there he was, his face inches from yours, his dark eyes gleaming. You should have pushed him away, told him to leave you alone. But instead, you whispered, “Do something about it.”

He didn’t hesitate. His lips crashed against yours, and you couldn’t help the way you melted into him. His hands cupped your face as his lips moved with a precision that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

You lay flat on the bed and his fingers found the edge of your pants, tugging them down with a careful urgency. You shivered as his hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers finding your pussy with an ease that made you throb.

“God,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky. “So wet for me.”

You let out a shaky gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders as his fingers worked vigorously inside your wetness, each movement teasing. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just cum for me.”

His words tipped you over the edge, and you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the moan that spilled from your lips. Your body trembled as you came undone, and he didn’t stop his gentle praise, his thrusts softening but never leaving you.

As your high faded, he pulled back to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “There,” he said softly. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to find some semblance of control, but the small smirk tugging at his lips made it impossible. You shoved him lightly, muttering under your breath, “Shut up.”

But the truth was, you didn’t want him to stop.

“Can I taste you?” he asked, his voice low, the hunger in his tone readable.

You rolled your eyes, trying to act unfazed, though your heart pounded in your chest. “Whatever,” you said casually, then pointed a finger at him. “But don’t expect me to suck your dick or anything.”

“Noted,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again. His lips moved slowly this time, taking their time as he hovered over you. You shivered as his lips left your mouth and began a slow descent. He pressed kisses to your neck, your collarbone, and lower still, his hands sliding up your thighs to part them as he made his way down.

When he reached the place where his fingers had been earlier, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured. Then, without waiting for a response, he dipped his head.

The first touch of his mouth was soft, exploratory, but it didn’t stay that way. His tongue was relentless, like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding your legs open as his tongue moved with precision and hunger.

“God,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him moan against you. The vibration sent a shockwave through your body, and you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out. “You’re s-so good at this,” you said, your voice trembling.

He hummed in response, his tongue never faltering. It was like he was determined to draw every last bit of pleasure from you, and the way he ate you out had your mind spinning.

You tried to stay quiet, you really did, but it became impossible as the pleasure inside you built to a breaking point. “Myung-gi,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against his mouth.

“Fucking cum for me,” he murmured between lapping, “come on, pretty girl. I want to feel you squirt on my mouth.”

The words sent you over the edge, and with a cry you couldn’t quite muffle, you squirted. Your body trembled violently as waves of pleasure rolled through you, and you felt the undeniable splash as you soaked his mouth.

He didn’t stop, didn’t pull away, his tongue continuing to coax every last drop from your body until you were completely spent. When he finally lifted his head, his lips and chin glistened, but the satisfied smirk on his face said it all.

“Guess you enjoyed that,” he said, his voice teasing but filled with pride.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though the small smile tugging at your lips told it all.

He laughed softly, crawling back up to kiss you, and the taste of yourself on his lips sent a shiver through you. “Whatever you say,” he said, brushing a strand of your curls from your face.

As you shifted slightly, you felt his hardness pressing against your thigh, and a need you couldn’t ignore surged through your pussy. “Hey,” you said softly but firmly, nudging him, “On your back.”

His brows raised slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. Myung-gi obeyed, lying back against the thin bedding, his breathing uneven. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and burning with lust.

You reached down, pulling his hard cock free, and his sharp intake of breath sent a thrill through you. Slowly, you positioned your leaking pussy over him. As you sank down, you hissed softly, feeling the stretch as you adjusted to his size. His hands instinctively gripped your hips, his jaw clenching as he tried to stay still for you.

“You good?” he asked, his voice strained, his breathing labored.

“Yeah,” you murmured, taking a moment to adjust before you began to move.

You started slowly, lifting yourself before settling back down, testing the waters. But as you found a rhythm, your confidence grew, and you leaned into it, bouncing on him like you owned him, because, in that moment, you did.

His head tipped back, and a moan escaped his lips. “Oh, God,” he muttered, his voice breaking as he squirmed beneath you. “You’re, God, you’re amazing.”

You smirked, gripping his shoulders for balance as you bounced faster. The sounds of his stuttering breaths and soft moans filled the quiet space, and you could see the way his jaw had gone slack, his mouth wide open in awe and pleasure.

“I’m gonna—” he tried to say, but his words dissolved into a stammering mess. “I’m gonna—”

You leaned down, wrapping one hand around his throat firmly. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours in shock and a hint of thrill.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your voice commanding as you began to grind on his cock.

His response was a strangled moan as his body arched beneath you. You pressed your other hand over his mouth, silencing his cries as his entire body began to tremble.

“Now,” you murmured. “Be a good boy and cum inside me.”

The words made him come undone, and you felt him cum as a wave of pleasure hit you simultaneously. Your body shook on top of him as you both came together, your intense orgasms leaving you breathless.

You slowly removed your hand from his mouth, and he gasped for air, his chest heaving. His eyes were wide, his face flushed, but a dazed smile tugged at his lips.

“Wow,” he said after a moment, his voice hoarse. “I love when a woman takes control.”

You smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “Good,” you replied, sliding off of him carefully and lying beside him.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as the two of you basked in the aftermath, the weird tension finally giving way to a strange sense of peace?

[kikidoul]

── BITE ME.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 西村 力 x fem! reader content established+secret non-idol au riki is a vampire here ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content submissive! riki cock sucking pussy fingering come eating belly bulge praise kink usage of petnames unprotected sex (wrap it up pls) riki being whiny and cute . . . !? 1402— mlist. | req

note. this was really fun to write tbh… to the anon who requested this, i hope it’s readable for you <3 taglist. @tfwbluu

Everytime Riki closes his eyes, he can imagine sinking his fangs into your neck. He could even taste your sweet, intoxicating blood, feeling it flow through his veins as he took his fill. He doesn’t know how much longer he could restrain himself. The desperation of drinking your blood grows with every second passing. One glance thrown in the clock’s direction tells him it was close to seven in the evening. If he wasn’t wrong, you should be reaching home anytime soon—

“I’m home!” 

Riki didn’t even bother walking from where he sat. He appeared before you, startling the lights out of you as you were in the midst of removing your shoes. He grabbed your things, still sane enough to put them on the dining table. You blinked, bemused when your boyfriend grabbed your wrist, dragging you towards the couch and he made you straddled his lap. 

“Riki, are you alright?” You asked, shivering when he slid his large hands underneath your blouse. 

And that was when you felt it—something poking your thigh from below. Riki buried his face in the crook of your neck, greedily inhaling your scent. His shoulders sagged with relief as your scent overwhelms his senses, calming him down. At the same time, it was driving him insane. He whined, lazily rutting his hips against yours. Your breath hitched in your throat, clenching down on nothing at the delirious friction of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit.

“Riki, wa-wait,” you protested but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop him, not when he was practically rocking his hips against yours, chasing after his pleasure. 

“Pl-Please, need you,” he mewled, words borderline slurring, sending heat straight down to your throbbing clit. 

You decide to take things into your own hands, considering how your boyfriend was long gone. You reached out, tilting his chin up with your index finger and you cooed at how his lips curled downwards in a cute pout with teary eyes. There was nothing but pure desire written all over his face, the desire to taste your blood and consume you whole. 

“Aw, my poor baby, do you need my help?” You cooed and he eagerly nodded his head, eyes trailing down until they landed on your neck. Riki leaned in but you stopped him, leaning back and he made a noise of protest. 

You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “Ah ah, use your words, baby. Do you need my help?” 

He sniffled, nodding. “Y-Yes, need it. Need your blood,” he mewled and you smiled, tapping his cheek with your fingers. 

“Good boy, go ahead. You can drink,” you replied, tilting your head to the side. 

Riki’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward, hands firmly holding you down by your hips to prevent you from falling off his lap. You involuntarily shivered when he kissed your neck, trailing kisses down until he reached a certain spot—the same spot where he always fed from. You rested your hands on his shoulders, instinctively gripping onto them when you felt him licked your unblemished skin, followed by his fangs piercing through your skin. 

You could never get used to the feeling. There was no pain but instead, it was replaced by pleasure. Your eyelids fluttered shut, letting out a blissed sigh as you felt the familiar feeling of something coursing through your veins. Riki moaned, drunk on your heavenly taste. He couldn’t get enough, never wanting this to be over. With one hand by your hips, his free hand moved to pull your pants and panties down, as much as he could without making you stand. 

A moan was torn from the depths of your throat when you felt his long, calloused fingers rubbing the bud peeking out from your lips. Strength was gradually leaving your body as you grew pliant in his arms but you knew Riki wouldn’t dare to hurt you and you trust him. You groaned as he pushed his fingers in until he was knuckles deep, spreading you open. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so well for me,” you breathed out, hearing the muffled whimper from the other. 

Riki detached his fangs once he had enough, licking the spot to stop the bleeding. At the same time, he pulled his fingers out slowly, not wanting to hurt you. 

“Did I do good?” He asks, looking at you with hopeful eyes. 

You smiled, nodding in agreement. “Yes, baby, you did a great job. Do you want your reward?” 

His face brightened up at your words. “Yes, please.” 

Humming, you moved to get off his lap, chuckling at his sound of protest. You gestured for him to lift his hips so you could unbuckle and remove his pants and underwear, revealing his poor hardened, neglected cock that stood upright. The tip had turned an embarrassing shade of red due to the lack of attention. Tucking a few strands of hair behind your left ear, you leaned forward, glancing up to see Riki’s eyes focused on you. You giggled when his cock subtly twitched as you moved closer and closer, close enough for your lips to graze against the tip. 

“Baby, please,” he whimpered, jerking his hips forward—attempting to slide his cock into your mouth but you merely leaned back, chuckling at the disappointed sound of protest he made. 

“Please what? You need to speak your mind or I won’t know what you want,” you replied, wrapping your fingers around his cock, pumping it at a slow, lazy pace. 

Riki threw his head back, mind blanking out at the delirious sensation of you stroking him. Breathless whimpers and moans spilled from his swollen lips. He jerked his hips forward, his cock moving back and forth within the ring your hand created. His muscles tightened, feeling a rubber band about to snap—

Only for you to pull away. 

“Wha—why!?” He whined, lips curling down to display his evident displeasure that you had denied his orgasm. 

You chuckled, rising to your feet to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “Because I’d rather have you cum in me. Unless, you don’t want to.” 

The vampire shook his head at lightning speed. He raised his hands, awkwardly hanging them by your side—unsure if he could hold you. “No, no! Wanna cum in you, please, please.” 

“Since you asked so nicely, who am I to deny you?” 

Resting one hand on his left shoulder to brace yourself while Riki took it upon himself to place his hands on your hips, you reached down to grab his cock and positioned yourself. He watched with bated breath as his cock slowly disappeared, inch by inch as he sunk into your warm, tight cunt. He eventually bottomed out and you moaned, your head spinning at how you were practically split apart on his cock. Riki rubbed circles on your bare skin, unable to tear his eyes away from the faint bulge on your stomach—right where his cock was. 

“Look, you’re so deep,” you breathed out, grabbing his hand to place it over the bulge as you slowly grind your hips against his. 

Riki visibly gulped as he gently pressed down, eliciting a whimper from you. He leans forward, brushing his nose against your neck. You knew what he wanted without him asking, which was why you tilted your head to the side—granting him permission. Your boyfriend wasted no time in digging in, sinking his fangs into your skin. At the same time, you increased your pace, bouncing on his cock. 

“Ngh—Riki, you’re doing so—hah—good for me. Such a good boy, aren’t you?” You moaned, hearing the muffled sound he made at your praise. Your eyes flutter shut when Riki begin thrusted up, pushing the both of you to your climax. 

You shuddered as he spilled inside you, followed by some of his cum slowly rolling down your legs, only to stain the floor. None of you moved for a while, remaining in the same position as you catch your breath. Riki leaned back, cupping your face with his hands and you leaned into his touch—like a touch-starved kitten. 

“Are you alright? Do you feel dizzy?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed with concern written all over his face. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry. What about you?” You shook your head. 

Riki flashed you a boyish smile. “I’m feeling better now, thanks to you.” 

You laughed, pressing a kiss on his nose. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

[dansroo]

Don't get angry with him, he was patient enough. :(

content; Jayce Talis x reader. nsfw. blowjob under a desk. male! reader. needy! jayce. light overstimulation. mention of body fluids. established relationship. Jayce loving everything about you. you are not in a public place as such, but it is not the right place to do that kind of stuff. word count: 985 (I got confused and I had put the wrong number at the beginning, my apologies)

a/n; he's so stupid, I love him, ugh. english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammatical error !

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

You swallowed saliva with difficulty, unable to avoid letting out a trembling gasp as you tried to maintain your sanity and continue working with what you had in front of you. But you reached a point where what you were supposed to do had been lost along with the rest of the coherent thoughts that resided in your now blurred mind. The tool you held in your hand slipped, making a loud — sharp noise upon contact with the surface of the desk.

You bit the back of your hand in a failed attempt to muffle your moans. For God's sake, you could hear the lustful sounds that Jayce's mouth made while eating you under the desk.

The plans and annotations in front of you began to become less readable; you were fighting against the impulse to succumb. You couldn't let him get away with it and give him, on a golden platter, what he wanted.

His big hands wrapped almost completely around your thighs while his face was buried between them, taking you completely at a desperate rhythm. He knew that this was the least suitable time and place to do something like that, but he was starved; he needed you, and he was sure you would understand, right?

You felt a chill invading your whole body, along with a wave of pleasure that wrapped your stomach. Your legs felt weak, and you had the desire to grind your hips against his pretty face. You whined, clinging with one of your hands to the edge of the desk.

It wasn't his fault, of course not. No one ask you to look so good while you were working.

“No distractions, got it.”

Well, it could probably be just a little his fault.

But he truly made every effort to listen to you, to be attentive to every word you said, but he couldn't help it. Not with you looking so handsome in front of him. All he could focus on was the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way you bit your lip in thought, the way you had your sleeves rolled up and your hair was slightly tousled. The smudge of grease on your face, he find it strangely endearing. You were so invested in your work, so dedicated and passionate. It was... kind of hot.

God, he really loves you so much.

He lost count of all the times he moved around the room, trying to distract himself with anything other than you. Swallowing nervously, waited for you to realize what he wanted — that he wanted you — but that was impossible. You weren't paying attention to him, and he didn't dare tell you anything because he was embarrassed enough to open his mouth — but not enough to get between your legs. You made him feel like a damn teenager in love, and he had to admit that deep down, he liked it.

A moan choked at the back of your throat, eyes rolling back as your fingers tangled in your hair, combing it back. You sighed tremulously, feeling your hips contract with the effort you were making for not to cum. You almost did when Jayce pushed your length all the way down his throat, with a hand gripping you firmly by the waist. He knew what he was doing.

“S-Shit!” you whimper loudly, unintentionally throwing the objects near you to the floor with your arms. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was smiling right now.

He really tried to push those thoughts away, but they just kept creeping back into his mind. He tried to focus on his own work, but his mind kept wandering back to you. You caught his gaze a few times, giving him a quizzical look, but he quickly glanced away; pretending to be focused on the tool he was holding. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he knew he was probably blushing like an idiot.

He found himself stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. Every so often, he'd catch a flash of that beautiful smile, and it would make his heart flutter all over again. He watched the way your fingers moved with such practiced precision — oh your beautiful hands, he couldn't wait to feel them on every corner of his body; just like your magnificent and pretty fingers, which were not only agile to create things.

You two had been working for hours and he had kept his patience as much as he could, but he couldn't keep waiting. You wouldn't blame him, would you?

“Jayce…”

“Mhm?”

The vibration of his throat caused you an involuntary moan. You cursed in low, tilting your head lower, peeking between the edge of the desk and your body to look at him kneeling in front of you. Your cock was still between his lips, with a mixture of his saliva and your fluids dripping from the corners. He looked at you attentively, with dilated pupils, observing your face. His hair was a mess, but it still looked cute as always.

“Stop, this… this is not the-!” He stopped you, sucking your tip and stealing a hoarse moan in the process. You bit your lip, watching his pretty mouth move up and down for your entire length. It was much better to see it than just to feel it.

You rested your back against the chair, bringing your hand to his hair; where your fingers tangled between his brown locks. Your legs opened more for him, being the only sign he needed to realize that he had obtained what he wanted.

He didn't take his eyes off you for the rest of the night; he wanted to make sure he remembered this moment well, capturing every expression on your face and the sound of your voice.

And don’t worry, you will make sure to collect your debt later.

© dansroo.2024. If by pure chance you recognize me, hi again! ;) I'm so sorry for deleted my account without giving explanations, I had some personal problems, really sorry.

[rubyvhs]

who’d believe? | dean winchester

summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. this is for my ‘stuck on you’ by meiko square for @jacklesversebingo + actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! ++ for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.

You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to. 

"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.

The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them). 

An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree. 

You should really work on saying no.

Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.

"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."

You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."

"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"

Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”

"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way. 

"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.

"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"

You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI. 

The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean. 

There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.

But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.

The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.

"Right, yes. Hi, Officer." 

She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.

"Are you fucking serious?"

You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"

"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"

"Is that not what they say anymore?"

"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way. 

You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends. 

Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.

By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.

"Look, I don't know what happened—"

"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times. 

But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.

But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.

"I'm—"

"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever. 

"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one. 

In your defense, everyone knows.

"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"

"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes. 

Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers. 

You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.

He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you." 

He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.

"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."

You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth. 

He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.

His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever. 

This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw. 

"We— Dean, can't here—" 

He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing. 

Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right." 

"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?

He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"

"Are you asking me to not stay?" 

He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance.