#I hope this is even somewhat coherent

[void-and-virtue]

OP I LOVED UR ANDREIL POST GOING CRAZY THINKING ABOUT IT if you have anything else in that amazing brain of yours on this take please do share because i absolutely LOVED how you articulated this aspect about andreil. its something i particularily appreciate about their dynamic and relationship with anger and Their Issues TM. your post will cross my mind whenever ill think about it from now on.

I don’t think I have ever gotten an ask and this is kind of making me go insane??? I hope you know that you made my day and also, I’m so glad people share in my endless brainrot bc when it comes to this series and these characters I simply cannot stop

It really isn’t nearly talked about enough that the thing that got Andrew to actually look at Neil and become interested was (as cited by Neil himself at some point tho I can’t remember in which book that scene is from the top of my head) Neil’s bone-deep jealousy of Kevin. It’s—it ties into that whole epiphany that Neil has at some point, when he looks at Andrew and realizes that while he is hurtling towards his own breaking point and about to burn out and shatter into something he’s not sure he’d recognize if he survived the encounter, Andrew hit that point and broke from it years ago. And that’s an understanding that goes both ways between them—in a fucked up way, it feels like Andrew might be the future that Neil has waiting for him if he doesn’t end the year six feet under: hollow and drifting, passionless after everything he had to rip away from himself to be able to survive. At the same time, Neil probably reminds Andrew of how he used to be, back when he had hope for things only to have that hope rip him apart—which is exactly where Neil seems to be headed for the majority of the story.

I think that a lot of Andrew’s understanding of Neil comes from the fact that he knows intimately what it feels like to be caught between a rock and a hard place and cut his own lifeline, only to then fail to die on impact. Neil hasn’t had to resort to that yet, but he is hanging by a thread. You’d think that watching him struggle would only serve to drive it home for Andrew that he made the right choice in closing himself off, except… well. His expectations of life and the people in it are so bleak, it’s no wonder he finds himself drawn to Neil’s messy emotions and every unexpected show of spine like a moth to a flame.

Neil, for all of his issues and scars, can still feel things—can still want something so badly it defies all logic. Can want something with such visceral, fucked-up intensity that it resonates where it shouldn’t. It’s an ability that Andrew thinks he’s either lost or cut out of himself to stay somewhat safe, sane and alive a long time ago, but that remains as the most fundamental crack in the foundation of his being. It’s a fascination that seems to come out every time he’s sober and eventually ties into him wanting Neil—wanting something worth wanting and putting a name to it once he finds it. They look at each other and don’t want a watered-down version of the person in front of them. It creates a relationship that embraces issues big and small and accepts (even values!) the messy parts of being human. It means that any space shared between them immediately becomes safe once they settle into something comfortable together. The way they handle the uglier sides of each other’s personality honestly makes me feral because it’s always done with understanding and acceptance and they even find positives or comforts there that the other can’t see and that’s probably a reason for why 1) their chemistry is so off the charts and 2) their relationship is so damn healthy (in addition to their communication being stupidly good when it comes to each other).

Andrew wants something real and Neil wants to be real. And then they get to have exactly that.

#I hope this is even somewhat coherent #this went way out of hand but it’s an aspect of them that’s so hard to put into words #something something Andrew’s almost detached fascination with intense emotions and fervor #he shows that same tendency when it comes to Kevin vs exy as well #in the sense that I’m convinced Kevin’s passion both fucks him up and mystifies him #Neil is just much more up close and personal bc yeah his original devotion that caught Andrew’s eye was to the sport #but then Andrew got to experience that devotion turned around on himself full force #you cannot tell me he was ready for that #but also also #this and the og posts were meant to be about Neil and Neil’s emotions being ugly and messy and human #and how that resonates with Andrew because even terrible feelings can be better than an emotionless void #between numbness and twisted-up falsities #Neil’s raw emotions were probably the most honest thing about him early series and he had a lot that he was never allowed to express before #and not only is Andrew safe to let go of those inhibitions around #Neil also wants for Andrew to relearn how to enjoy that same privilege with him #losing control and all that #there’s a lot that can be said about all of this and I’m really not fully finding the words but. THEM. That’s all and thank you. #also ty for the ask I was really !!! when I saw that in my inbox :)))( #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #aftg meta #answered asks

[raiiny-bay]

finished dhes & kel's character pages so here are the lil edits i made for both of em :-)

#myedits #kelly #dhestyn #ik i posted kel’s already but now i am posting both pictures together #i have read through the bios so many times atp that i don't even know if they make sense anymore #i cannot look at them again #i'm just gonna say they're good enough #i might change some stuff here & there but for now #i am over it lol #i'll probably do the rest of the characters eventually.......... #maybe........... #but idk. i only really post the boys here so like. yea. yk. #plus i still have the mbz character page to do #which. that has like. so many characters on it. it's a daunting task #i hope the boys' pages are at least somewhat coherent. i tried to be concise & to the point. uh. idk if i was successful in that #but. n e way. i have a few edits & writing things i wanna work on so. character pages are moving to the back burner #i may or may not finally start writing the 90sAU #which btw ty guys for being so nice on that edit???? the comments & tags were all so sweet????? #i really liked that one so i'm glad y'all liked it too

[glass-noodle]

i like "confused innocent wittle android" connor but only when he's doing it on purpose. male manipulator.

same 😚

Although! I also enjoy him learning to navigate the world beyond what he can access via internet/social protocols and stumbling a little along the way. He’s aware of how the world works on an intellectual level, but actually having to experience life — going through the motions of surviving, of feeling emotions, of actually connecting with others on a deeper level beyond “pick an option from this algorithmically optimized list”, requires more nuance and forces him to show more vulnerability in order to learn and grow and connect. So I can imagine him being caught off guard, or having his intentions misread, or picking the wrong course of action, and feeling (at best) a little abashed and (at worst) mortified/guilty sometimes as a result. He’s confident and smart and adaptable, but nobody’s perfect, and I think he’s generally pretty hard on himself if his reactions to his failures in-game are any indication.

I still like to imagine him as more of an “ends justify the means” type of person, though. Imo he wouldn’t be above using deceit and manipulation to get what he wants even after deviating, but he’s also developing his own code of ethics separate from CyberLife’s that dictate when and how and to what extent he should use those tactics, and whether the consequences to his interpersonal relationships will be worth it.

Machine Connor on the other hand? He knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s here to wreck your shit 😌✨

#sorry for the long answer lol!!!! i know you probably didn’t ask for an essay but I guess I saw this as an opportunity to ramble 😂 #I’ve had these thoughts rolling around in my head for a while and they’re still constantly changing and being reworked tbh #so I hope this is somewhat coherent #Connor #noodle talk #characters who are highly intelligent and always in control are fun #but thinking about the instances where they would lose that control is even more fun (to me) #especially if it’s a rare thing #also not to say machine Connor doesn’t have nuance. because he does! they’re still the same person #but he’s definitely chosen certain values over others #learning machines 🤖

[ink-blot-thoughts]

So a thought occurred, you know the way Childe in his Foul Legacy form has one eye (or at least looks like he does)?

What if the reason he choose to tell Teucer ruin guards were the heroes was in hope that if Teucer ever saw him in his Foul Legacy, he wouldn't be terrified and would instead think of the one eyed giants who are his favourite toys??

Idk food for thought.

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #teucer #foul legacy #childe's story quest #big brother ajax is best ajax yall i will fight to the death over this #idk this just popped into my brain and i felt the need to share ig #no idea if its been thought of before #its like 3 in the morning god i hope this comes out even somewhat coherent #also yes im a genshin/childe bitch moving on

[astrxealis]

sorry for rambling so much about milgram btw my thoughts are often a mess and i think too much about it but i am good now i think <3

#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚ #⋯ ꒰ა milgram ໒꒱ *·˚ #i finally properly get fuuta's character i think teehee. after a lot of thinking and thinking and thinking #it hurts my head a bit ngl (figuratively) bcs ejghbghjag i try to look at it at all sides and whoops i end up getting confused w #what is the truth and what are my actual beliefs/feelings/thoughts a bit! </3 but my head is clearer now (hooray!) #anyway yeah fuuta innocent. guilty -> innocent -> innocent imo!! can't say totally for sure tho w the 3rd but i think he shld be forgiven #i feel a bit ehgbah for my thoughts being so messy before (also scared someone will misunderstand me) but i think yeah i was looking #at it already in the 2nd trial perspective. how to explain. but yeah blah blah blah yeah! #i think he's a good guy at heart fr but he. yeah. and i think there's smth to do with the 'pressure' and all with that #he needs to hold himself accountable for his actions even if it may be true that yk. he isn't the only one and it's rather sad he's the #only one who got all the blame so i get why he's acting that way even though ofc it isn't okay in the end. dude needs to admit and all #and he's getting uhh better! i want to talk more oops but it's almost 2 pm holy shit. i'll probably put my coherent thoughts in my notes #instead. but yeah. tbh i'm not sure if i can really say he always felt somewhat guilty/regret ever since the start #bcs it's he may just first feared the consequences but then again he never expected it to escalate to death (tho even if the #outcome turned out to not be that bad. cyberbullying is never okay!!! bullying is never okay!!!!!) but he's the character #who puts up a front of sorts and as someone who often likes characters like that. it's possible i'm misinterpretating him but #personally that's how i see it ^___^ but dude yeah guilty first trial fr so he can be more yk to really loosen up and admit it n all #or at least. take a step closer to doing so. yeah!!! okay i think i've properly cleared my head now #i just hope no one like. misunderstands me from my many rambles WABHBJHBG #oh i actually really relate and understand fuuta actually. yeah. NOTHING AS BAD AS HIM i mean that genuinely but yeah #he's starting to accept that his actions bring heavy consequences and he's showing a lot of guilt and regret. still a tough front tho #aghhhh i really hope he gets voted innocent this time around for real. he's a good guy at heart and i do think he always knew #he was guilty. and etc etc etc i stop rambling now zzz love fuuta fr tho his character means a lot to me actually #actually idk there's still a lot to his character i feel. it's either from his perception still or yk. does he actually feel guilt? #but yeah imo he does. and i'd like to believe that too also bcs i get his character but i ofc can't still tell for sure! #blame shifting may still be a problem. he feels regretful for sure i believe but for what reason is a question still #tbh judging fuuta here is (for me) like judging me from a bit into the past so sorry if i'm really fired up about this. #i get he's just a fictional character but i really want to do this 'right' (but what is right tbh?) #in any case even with all the complications i think he's improving. sort of. and guilty is concerning for him if he YEAH. so innocent. #oops too much tags but i get it now <3 !! also btw i've never bullied/cyberbullied anyone just to be clear :] just to be clear

[willowser]

HOW DID YOU GET YOUR BLOG TO BE SO PRETTY?! i’m trying bc i want to start posting my writing, but idk how to do it. pls help, ily <3

oh, thank you !! that's so sweet, i'm so glad you think it's pretty 🥺

hmm, for my mobile theme, i really just looked at a bunch of different blogs and their mobile theme ? and i took note of what most commonly was put in plain view for someone to see upon visiting; name, age, pronouns, masterlist, i've seen a lot of "about" pages, "before you follow" warning pages, the "minors, do not interact" if you're going to have nsfw content on your page - all those things ! and i am also very lazy when it comes to making things pretty LOL so i took mostly the ones i figured were basic and important to me.

and then i picked a color ! it was originally just white and black bc that was easiest, but i really liked this green 😌😌 i honestly want to change it but the effort it would take, i do not possess in this moment LMAO i actually have a secret project/blog that's much prettier than this one and i'm trying to just be happy with that lmao

as for my desktop theme, it's from here, but i changed the colors to match my green 🌿🌿🌿 and i really like my desktop theme and it has some really cool features i don't use LOL and i wish i saw it more, but yeah !! that's about all i know what to say !

oh - ! one more thing. for the header and icon and any other manga-ish thing: i use photoshop to change it to green and i think i use either lighten or screen ? i can't remember which one. one of them makes the picture green but kind of fuzzy and another clears everything up really well, i want to say it's screen but - bah, idk ! but you make the first layer your original panel and create another layer on top of that and turn it your color, and then change that layer to either lighten or screen - and it makes all the black lines your color. easy ! and i literally just took a very tiny print screen of the green on mobile view to use as a divider LOL

but thank you again ! i hope this was maybe at all helpful LOL i'm excited to see your blog and read your stuff !!

#i am so very lazy at times LMAO #and i am most often on my chromebook just bc it's easier to access in the moment and i sometimes i use some online photoshop site ! #to make things green ! #it has the lighten and screen options and i've even used the adobe photoshop mix app #my melon is mush so i hope this is somewhat coherent lmao #✿ ask willow

[longagoitwastuesday]

Oh my god Buckingham in insane (appreciative)

#Imagine if after reading this for Aramis I end up loving Buckingham instead #But he is so deliciously insane I'm having a blast xD #He starts a war because a war means at some point there will have to be a peace signed #and that means someone will be needed to negotiate the peace and he will be such person #And then he'll be able to see the queen #He's like 'of course thousand of men will have died by then but what's that to me if I'm able to see you again? #I know this will kill me‚ I've had dreams about the exact way. I don't care if that means I'm able to see you even for an instant #If in six months I've not seen you and I'm not dead‚ I'll do anything in my power to see you again‚ even if I have to tear the world apart #In your absence I beg you give me a token to remember you by‚ something you've worn that I could also wear and keep besides me‚ #and afterwards I promise I'll leave instantly' #I think I'll post some fragments later. His wording is so funny and so deranged at times #He's both terribly self-aware and just doesn't care. He walks into a trap knowingly just for the hope of seeing the queen a moment #before being killed #And has the nerve to say something along the lines that his feelings make this coherent. Which is somewhat true I suppose. I love him xD #Big Jack Vessalius vibes now that I think about it lol #I should probably delete this later #I talk too much

[tgcg]

argument

its a big one

TG: alright this is probably a bust

TG: more i think about it how the fuck do you even make a marinara

TG: can i even alchemise cheese or do i gotta like alchemise the milk and curdle it myself

TG: how do you even curdle

====================

TG: make a goddamn

TG: curgler

TG: whatever

TG: internet archive gonna pull through

====================

CG: ALRIGHT DAVE

TG: shit

====================

CG: YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK OFF. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IN BULGEMUNCHING VIRULENT FUCK YOU GET THE IDEA YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD THINK ABOUT MY OWN GODDAMN PLANET. SORRY TO HAVE TO DEAL A BLOW TO YOUR IMPOSSIBLY INFLATED FUCKING EGO, BUT HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THAT YOUR SIDE-EYE SLACKJAW HOPELESS DEADPAN BULLSHIT BEHAVIOUR IS ACTUALLY INCREDIBLY FUCKING CONTEMPTIBLE AND DOESN'T PUT YOU ABOVE OTHER PEOPLE? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT?

CG: OR DID YOU JUST ASSUME FROM THE MOMENT YOU FOUND OUT I'M A REVOLTING FUCKING MUTANT LOWBLOOD FREAK THAT I'M SUDDENLY NOT ALLOWED TO LIKE THE IDEA OF MY LIFE MEANING SOMETHING AT SOME POINT?

TG: okay you are wildly misquoting me where the fuck did that come from

TG: also you scared the hell out of me

TG: im just trying to science some pizza here

====================

CG: OKAY THEN, DAVE! EXPLAIN TO ME AS WELL AS YOUR AMBLING ONE-NOTE SMOOTH EXCUSE FOR A 'THOUGHT'SPONGE CAN

CG: IN SOMEWHAT COHERENT TERMS, ALTHOUGH I KNOW THAT'S A TALL ORDER:

CG: HOW YOU SAYING MY ADOLESCENT DREAMS OF BECOMING A THRESHECUTIONER ARE "FUCKED UP AND IRONIC IN A NASTY ASS WAY" DOESN'T QUALIFY AS UNDERHANDEDLY KICKING ME IN THE MANDIBLE PRONGS!

CG: YOUR AUDIENCE AWAITS YOU WITH BATED BREATH! TAKE IT AWAY, M.C. BRAIN HEMORRHAGE.

====================

TG: okay i dont

TG: know how you got a hold of that phrasing because i said that shit in confidence

TG: get out of my business bro

CG: NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: THIS METEOR IS A PHYSICAL, LITERAL LOCATION WE'RE BOTH IN. IT'S NOT A FUCKING PRIVATE CHATROOM. THIS MIGHT BLOW YOUR PITIFUL MIND BUT PEOPLE CAN ACTUALLY HEAR OTHER PEOPLE TALK WHEN THEY HAVE TO SHARE A SPACE! BRO!

TG: ugh

====================

CG: AND IT'S VERY INTERESTING YOU ACCUSE ME OF MISQUOTING YOU, AND THEN SUDDENLY TURN AND SPOUT FROM THAT SHITTY DRONING GROANSHAFT OF YOURS THAT I'M INVADING YOUR PRIVACY WHEN I DIRECTLY QUOTE YOUR SMARMY LITTLE SHAMEGLOBES!

CG: WOW! TURNS OUT KARKAT IS ACTUALLY BEING GENUINELY FUCKING UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING — WHO KNEW, RIGHT? WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE GENUINE COMPLAINTS TO LEVEL AGAINST THE PEOPLE WHO GO SPOUTING HOOFBEASTSHIT ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK TO THEIR ECTOSIBLINGS?

TG: no dude can you shut up a second

CG: I MOST CERTAINLY FUCKING WILL, THANKS FOR THE OFFER! I'M NEVER TELLING YOU A GODDAMN THING AGAIN, SO I HOPE YOU MANAGE TO GAIN SOME WRINKLES TO THAT VESTIGIAL FLAWLESS ORB FLOATING AROUND IN YOUR CAVERNOUS NUGBONE FROM ALL THIS. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH ALL THE EFFORT ON YOUR END.

TG: listen!!!!

====================

CG: MHM! MY AURICULAR CHAMBERS ARE WIDE OPEN!

TG: jegus

TG: okay

TG: i have no defense for my literal phrasing but how expeditiously did you shadowstep the fuck away after i said that

TG: because that is some shrek tier "princess and ugly dont go together" level misrepresentation of my sweet self

TG: like if this wasnt obviously a heated platonic argument we were having i would probably be digging what the reference even if it was a shitty trope

====================

TG: i just

TG: have been thinking about some things and none of those things have got an iota of a thing to do with you or your blood

TG: thing

TG: man

TG: i dont know why you think id be so pressed about your vein juice its like

TG: a normal ass color for a normal ass guy

TG: and obviously it was a major fucking deal from how you talk about it but it doesnt need to be anymore

====================

TG: the thing is i just dont like have the same attitude as you about fighting and stuff and thats not something i am getting into right now but i am gonna make it expressly clear

TG: that its just kind of fucked up for me to sit my ass down and listen to someone spew gold and medals and confetti colored shit going googoo all over tall and loathsome ass bloodletters he never knew

TG: and have him tell me he wants to be the best guy at combat since samurai fuckin jack

TG: and thats my capital B business believe me the emphasis is there

====================

CG: SO IS THIS ABOUT ME WANTING TO BE PART OF SOMETHING YOU DON'T AGREE WITH? BECAUSE THRESHECUTIONERS DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST ANYMORE. I LITERALLY COULD NOT DO THIS IF I TRIED AT THIS POINT, SO YOU CAN UNKNOT YOUR “KNIGHTY WHITIES” ABOUT IT.

TG: being anti-military is not my point but damn if it isnt a thing thats probably true anyways so good job sleuthing that out

CG: WHAT IS YOUR POINT, DAVE.

TG: bluh

TG: i just said i dont wanna talk about it man

====================

CG: OKAY,

====================

CG: OKAY.

CG: I MEAN. IT FEELS KIND OF IMPORTANT TO THE CONTEXT OF THIS WHOLE UNAMBIGUOUSLY PLATONIC ARGUMENT WE'VE BEEN HAVING

CG: WHICH I'M RELIEVED WE AGREE ON BY THE WAY

CG: BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO KNOW I'M NOT GOING TO WRING IT OUT OF YOU. IT'S FINE.

====================

CG: …IF YOU DECIDE AT SOME POINT THAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME THOUGH, MY RUMBLE VESSELS ARE STILL OPEN.

TG: i swear youre making those up on the spot at this point

CG: I'M KEEPING MY LANGUAGE'S ART ALIVE, DAVE. IT'S BASIC DECENCY TO THE PLANET THAT RAISED ME.

TG: heh

====================

TG: yknow we got these things called anatomical snuffboxes

TG: its got that right amount of vague nose wrinklage to it that i feel like youd be right at home saying that

TG: snug as a grub even

CG: WHAT PART IS THAT???

TG: its that little weird bone bit that sticks out on the back of your palm when you flex your thumb right

====================

TG: look

CG: HUH. LOOKING AT THAT IS KIND OF WIGGING ME OUT.

TG: yeah its kinda gross rose told me about it

TG: but anyways

====================

TG: are we cool

CG: I MEAN… I GUESS SO. YOU WEREN'T ACTUALLY INSULTING ME, RIGHT?

TG: hell no dude never

CG: OKAY. I COMPLETELY RESCIND THE MYRIAD OF WAYS I JUST INSULTED YOU. AND I'M SORRY.

TG: nah i know its just fluff at this point

====================

CG: I STILL DON'T APPRECIATE YOU TELLING ROSE THINGS I SAY TO YOU IN CONFIDENCE. THAT WAS BETWEEN YOU, ME, AND MY NOW NON-EXISTENT HOME PLANET ROTTING AWAY TO A CRATERED GRAY HUSK IN ANOTHER DEAD UNIVERSE.

TG: i swear that was like the only thing its just that she gets it and i cant keep my mouth from going on about the gettable stuff

TG: they call me the babbling brook the way my flows so audible

TG: i wont do it again

CG: NO,

====================

CG: I GET IT HONESTLY.

CG: I'M BASICALLY THE NUMBER ONE PROPRIETOR OF AIRED GRIEVANCES IN ALL OF PARADOX SPACE AND THEN SOME, AND I'D ALSO BECOME ITS BIGGEST HYPOCRITE IF I HELD IT AGAINST YOU.

TG: thanks

TG: but i mean

TG: at the gigantic risk of sounding uh

====================

TG: ………..

CG: ?

====================

TG: well

TG: i kinda just think youre better at being a guy to chill out and watch movies with than a guy to tangle fists with

TG: and i dont think theres anything wrong with being that

TG: i think its cool

====================

CG: …THAT'S AN ALARMINGLY BRAZEN OBSERVATION TO MAKE OF SOMEONE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ABOUT THE SPAN OF SEVEN SEASONAL EQUINOXES, DAVE.

TG: i dont know what that means but it sure is probably

CG: AM I ALLOWED TO ASK WHAT EVEN GIVES YOU THAT IMPRESSION????

TG: i just got that inkling about you man

====================

TG: and you can do whatever you want with that info

TG: throw it in the load gaper or whatever if you want i dont really care

TG: give it a swirly and slam it in a locker call it a nerd break its glasses whatever

TG: but beyond this whole lord english thing weve got going on i am pretty content to never aggress my fellow man slash alien slash monster again if i can help it

TG: i think thats pretty fair given what thats been like so far

====================

TG: and yknow its cool to have some company when im waxing emotional over the narrative depth of click starring adam sandler which we are watching next by the way

CG: UGH, FIIIIIIIIINE. JUST TO MAKE UP FOR CALLING YOUR THINKPAN SMOOTH AND SUPERFLUOUS.

====================

TG: score

TG: we should argue all the time

CG: SNRK

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #meteorstuck #comix #argument

[madigoround]

I am SUING for EMOTIONAL DAMAGES do you hear me Leigh Bardugo call your lawyers

#page 364 to 365 #HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE HOW DARE #the high of oh my gosh they are somewhat kissing they are healing together to KAZ DEFLECTING BY TELLING HER HOW HE TORTURED PEOPLE #can you not give me one goddamn second of reprieve Leigh #who hurt you that you could not write more than three paragraphs at a time of peace and recovery and happiness #the thing is is that even if Leigh Bardugo saw this post right now and called me up and said hey I saw you wanted to talk about #crooked kingdom I don’t think I would be able to form a coherent thought other than HOW DARE YOU #at the end of the day I think even if I didn’t love them so much I would want all of them to have happy endings because if these traumatized #fake people can’t have a happy ending can’t reach peace then what hope is there for me when you could so easily make it kinder for them #I’m rambling

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.

And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.

She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.

Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on. 

After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy. 

"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."

Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."

"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.

Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.

Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."

"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."

Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."

Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it. 

It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves. 

"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.

She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed. 

But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine. 

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

--------------------------

Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.

He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once. 

After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."

"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."

He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."

She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"

Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot. 

Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."

"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"

He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."

He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"

She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."

"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.

"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder. 

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.

When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting. 

He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number. 

"Floyd!"

Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.

"Floyd! Let's go!"

"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"

As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.

Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside. 

He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was. 

"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing. 

"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation. 

"Floyd!"

Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"

He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.

-----------------------

"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me." 

He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.

Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.

"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."

Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."

Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."

"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.

"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."

Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."

"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."

But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."

Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.

Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her. 

Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.

-----------------------

Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner. 

That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry. 

The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.

"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out. 

The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.

She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.

"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"

She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her. 

"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch. 

"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.

Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from. 

"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."

"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."

Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."

"Ohhh, what did he look like?"

Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"

"Mmhmm."

"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea." 

A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"

"Yes," Anna replied with a nod. 

"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked. 

"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.

And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.

"Was he about six feet tall?"

"Was he slim but not skinny?"

"Did he blush when he smiled?"

"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

--------------------------

Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

[ladylannisterxo]

Flannel and Lace

Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Words; 1.9k

Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), spanking, dirty talk, basically just porn without plot

Summary; Eddie comes home to find you wearing one of his flannel shirts, wearing only his flannel shirt.

A/N; Listen. I am obsessed with the photos going around of Joseph Quinn's costume tests but am also distraught that they put this man in a flannel and then didn't even use it! Now, I'm just absolutely feral over it - this is the end result! I am a sucker for a good flannel, especially on a very attractive man. This is just shameless smut, enjoy!

{ masterlist }

You were early; Eddie could hear you shuffling around in his room as soon as he waltzed in the front door. He had hoped he could have some time to get settled before you arrived but then again, it’s not as if he really minded, he had given you a key weeks ago for this very reason. Queen was playing, muffled behind the closed bedroom door and he smirks, knowing you’re in his room swaying your hips to the beat and pretending to be a rockstar when you think no one is looking.

He slips down the hallway quietly, sliding off his leather jacket and denim vest as he goes, hoping to catch you in the act of rocking out. He loved how you felt the music throughout your whole body, how free you always looked. But more importantly, he loved how absolutely adorable you got when you realize you’ve been caught; how your hands cover your face and you shy away from him in pure embarrassment. Because he’s the rockstar, not you. Or, at least, that’s what you always say when he catches you. Eddie desperately wants to bring you to a gig one of these days, see how you lose your inhibitions when he begins to play.

But, of course, this is not what he sees when he pushes open the door. His closet door is hanging wide open and you’re standing in the middle of the room with one of his red flannels draped over your body. And from his vantage point, this single red flannel is the only thing you’re wearing. He groans at the sight, how can he not, and you look over your shoulder with a soft smirk and a teasing glint in your eye.

“You never wear this,” you muse, turning around to fully face him.

Eddie grips the doorknob tighter for stability, licks his lips because fuck, he was somewhat right. That blessed red flannel falls across your frame like a waterfall, a little long in the sleeves but stopping just at the tops of your thighs. It’s also unbuttoned, completely, exposing your supple skin to his searching eyes. No bra, the garment just barely conceals you and to him, you might as well not even be wearing panties because the thin lace leaves nothing to the imagination. He can feel himself growing hard just looking at you and he shifts in place, a poor attempt in controlling his lust.

“It’s, uh, it’s too hot to wear,” he chokes out, brain scrambling to formulate coherent sentences.

That’s when you finally look at him, eyes sparkling in the midday sun and Eddie wants to melt into a puddle on the floor because if you looked at him just like this every single moment of every single day, he’s sure he’d die a happy man.

“But that leather jacket you don every day is breezy as can be,” you chuckle, eyebrow arching. “I don’t know, Eds, this feels nice to me. It’s real soft.”

“It looks good on you too,” he responds automatically.

“Yeah?” You sway from side to side, the flannel moving with you like a lover keeping you close.

“Sweetheart, all my clothes look good on you.” It’s honest and Eddie didn’t realize how true that statement actually was until you kept trying on his clothes. He’s wrapped you up in his leather jacket more times than he can count and don’t get him started on the things he wants to do to you when you wear his Hellfire Club shirt.

You smile, biting your lip softly. Then you’re crawling onto his bed, granting him a full view of your ass before placing yourself on your knees, hands resting against your thighs. Your hair is a disheveled mess and the flannel has fallen open a bit more, exposing a teasing amount of your tits to him. Eddie thinks you belong on the cover of a magazine or a poster he could tack onto his wall and jack off to when you’re not with him.

“Let me guess,” you say, pulling the garment off your shoulders, “you still think it would look better on the floor.”

Eddie finally kicks his ass into high gear, crossing the room to stand directly in front of you. His fingers tug at the flannel to bring it back up over your shoulders and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle but insistent. His hands trail down to cup your breasts and you push up into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you gasp when he tweaks your nipples between his fingers.

“I like when you wear my clothes, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, “makes me feel closer to you.”

“Sweet talker.”

“I’m serious,” he chuckles, “but you sitting here posed on my bed makes you look like something out of a magazine.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, trailing your tongue along his jaw. “Like one of those dirty mags I found underneath your bed?”

“Well,” he begins, pulling back to meet your eyes, “you would make a great centerfold.”

Then he’s cupping your pussy in his hand and your breath stutters in your chest. He smirks before kissing you again, fingers working diligently against your clothed heat.

“Eddie, please, please,” you whine, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pulls, your legs coming out from under you as you drop unceremoniously onto your ass. He pulls on you again and you’re brought to the edge of the bed where he’s already waiting, down on his knees. Your heart flutters with anticipation.

Eddie’s breath is hot against your still clothed pussy and you shift your hips closer, silently begging for what you want most from him. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours as he teases a single finger across the lace. You let yourself drop to lay flat on your back with a sigh, deciding to let him do whatever the hell he wants to you.

“So wet,” he murmurs when he pushes your panties out of the way, “is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you sigh, “all for you, baby, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Is that right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he flattens his tongue against your cunt and licks a firm stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan loudly, hands immediately flying to tangle in his hair. His tongue circles your clit before latching on to suck fervently against the bundle of nerves. You arch your back, fingers tightening, keeping him right fucking there. Two of his fingers slip inside of you without warning, setting a steady pace as he pulls every single sigh and moan he can from you.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

His mouth pulls off your clit with a resounding pop and then he’s moving up your body to capture your lips in a heated kiss, fingers still working inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes wide as he watches you come undone beneath him. Rolling your hips in a frenzied pace, you take his fingers deeper and deeper until your orgasm pitches through you like gasoline being poured over an already blazing fire. Eddie works you through it, he always does, and once your hips come to a stop and the spasms have subsided, he slips his fingers out of you and brings them to your awaiting mouth.

“That’s my good girl,” he muses when you wrap your lips around his fingers, “see how good you taste?”

You hum in agreement, swirling your tongue around his digits. He groans at the sensation before pulling his fingers from your mouth abruptly and bringing that same hand down to smack your ass sharply. You jolt, pushing your body further into him and he wraps his arms around you and rolls, bringing you up to straddle his hips.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asks, shifting his hips for you to feel his hard cock against your thigh.

You waste no time in helping rid him of his clothes. Your fingers start at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before latching your lips onto his collarbone and licking and sucking your way down to your prize. When you reach the denim of his jeans, you slide off the bed long enough to unfasten them and pull them and his boxers down in one fluid motion. You straddle his waist again, rolling your hips across his cock. His hands find your hips, squeezing and kneading the flesh tightly in his fingers and you bring the flannel back down off your shoulders. Turns out Eddie was right, it does get a bit too hot.

Grasping his cock in hand, you line him up at your entrance and sink down onto him slowly, enjoying the ache of him stretching you out. Eddie groans at the feeling of you already clenching around him, his hands bunching the fabric of his flannel around your waist to grip your hips tighter, to help you move against him.

Your hands fall flat on his chest for stability, his tattoos peaking out at you from in between your fingers. Fuck going slow and steady, you set a rapid pace, bouncing on his cock with what could only be described as pent up aggression, taking him fast and hard and deep.

“Fuck, yes,” you mewl, throwing your head back with an elongated moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, smacking your ass again. “Ride my cock until you cum.”

His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing firm and tight circles, taking you higher and higher. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, coursing through your veins like a tidal wave. You bite your lip with a whimper, one hand smacking against the wall in front of you to find purchase. Eddie has leaned up to capture a nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened peak, and the onslaught of these added sensations has your orgasm crashing over you.

Crying out Eddie’s name as pleasure overtakes you, he wraps one arm around you and flips you until you're flat on your back. He hikes your leg up on his hip and fucks you hard through your high, chasing his own release. Your nails rake down his chest, leaving wild and red scratches in their wake, as you roll your hips against him meeting him thrust for thrust for thrust.

“Eddie, please, cum inside me,” you whine, “I want to feel it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts and with two more hard thrusts, he’s exploding inside of you, warming you up from the inside.

Eddie pulls out of you gently and pulls your panties back in place, keeping all of him inside you. He kisses you then, all tongue and teeth, pulling you close, so close, you could meld into one single being. He interlocks his fingers with yours, lips pressing gentle kisses along your knuckles as you brush his hair away from his eyes.

“That was - shit, you really went for it,” he says after a moment, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“I did say I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you remind him, “although I wasn’t expecting you to get this hot and bothered over me in your clothes.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you could be completely naked or covered from head to toe and I’ll always get hot and bothered over you,” he says, capturing your lips in another kiss. “But I’m pretty sure this flannel is yours now.”

“Good,” you whisper, pecking his lips again, “I wasn’t going to give it back anyway.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #writing by 's'

[tojisun]

into my flesh

toji x fem reader

!! smut fic - minors dni; hinted age gap; mentioned jealousy; praise and degradation kink; petnames; squirting; brief cervix sex; breeding kink; passing out post-sex; mentioned aftercare; toji’s big dick galore // 2.4k words

: have my horny thoughts strung to form a somewhat coherent fic; i hope u guys would like it <33; title of the fic is from flesh - simon curtis

there is something in the way you make toji jealous that unleashes the ever-pooling desire he has for you.

wearing that red silk dress that he bought for you on your birthday, pulling him in with the curl of your lips, but never allowing him to venture close. you sidestep away from his touch whenever he tries to hook his arm around your waist, your lips pursed like toji isn’t worth your minute.

toji's glower grows and his frown deepens but he gets it.

he knows this game. he knows that you're just trying to set his veins ablaze because oh how you love it when his lips are pulled back in a snarl and his hips are punching in their thrust and his hands find their purchase around your neck. oh how you love his growled words pressed on the rise of your breasts, promises of filth rippling along your damp skin, before full lips circle around your hardened nipple. oh how you love it when toji is ruthless with his love — animalistic and jagged and overarching.

toji knows how this game goes so he slinks back into the shadows and watches you. he watches the way you hover around this boy — because what else could he be if not a boy whose lips twitch in their attempt to keep your attention, his fingers fiddling with the loose dress shirt hanging off of him, all because he could not handle your magnificence — and titter at his jokes, your eyelashes batting purposefully delicate, enticing him in a way that no other could. your hair frames your face devilishly: the cut of your jaw is sharp, your cheekbones are defined, and your eyes are half-lidded.

toji is feet away from you but even his throat goes parched. he can’t blame the kid for swooning even if toji wants nothing more but to pull you away from those coveting eyes.

——————————————————

toji’s smile is cruel as he taps the head of his cock on your twitching cunt. you whimper a choked moan, your eyes fluttering shut as the tears continue to spill. your lashes are sticking together and you are sure your “waterproof” eyeliner is all but retained, but fuck.

fuck.

your chest heaves as you gaze back into toji’s eyes, sharp hues of green looking at you with such reverence like you’re so precious even when utterly debauched. like toji loves you like this: heady and desperate and mewling. and he does. you know he does. but there is something so good at the reminder of how your presence pushes toji past his built walls, ushering his scarred palms to feel you.

he is so beautiful like this: impatient and hungry for you.

(toji has always been beautiful but in way that was not apparent in your exes — satoru with his twinkling eyes that crinkle every time he laughs; kento with his quiet drawl as he whispers your name; mei with her sloping curves and her pianist fingers ghosting their touch along your spine. no. toji is not delicate like them; even in his softness, toji has always been different and stark against your history of picnic dates and lavender kisses.

because toji, with his maps of scars and speckles of grey hair peppering the sea of black and crooked grin and aged hands and deep baritone, was not fortunate enough to afford to grow in his gentleness. he had to learn it himself — crafting fragility from his weaponry of agony and anger, all for you. all because of you. because he saw you and realized he loved you and promised, then, that he would bear kindness from his ruined hands.)

“hey,” toji’s voice is gruff as he calls out to you, pulling you from your swimming thoughts. “y’still there, baby?”

you blink back at him, glossed eyes focusing on his face.

oh how cruel of you to think about other people when toji, the man whom you love with all that you are, has you pinned down on his bed, mounting you with his bigger body. fuck, the reminder of how easy it was for toji to press your legs parallel to your chest has you breathing heavily, your pussy clenching at nothing. a quiet huff escapes your kiss-swollen lips, your eyes almost going crossed when toji slides his cock along your soaked folds again.

“yes,” you finally hum. “please, fuck me.” your empty hands slide down his chest, running your fingertips past his nipples and down to where he has a fist around his heavy and thick and full cock. your tongue juts out to swipe at your lips, feeling utterly hungry all of a sudden.

“impatient,” toji tuts. “after almost dozing on me an’ everything.”

your cheeks burn, your lips pouting. you murmur unintelligibly, not really refuting his words but not admitting to them either.

“shh,” toji whispers at seeing you flustered. he cups your cheeks, sliding his thumb just below your eyes. “was just joking, sweetheart.”

your lips part open for a response, one that dashes from the tip of your tongue at the feeling of toji’s cock slowly pushing in your pussy. you keen, your back arching off the bed.

god, you feel so full. and even then, with your quiet whimpers and curling toes, toji’s still not all the way in. your eyes flutter at every steady slide, panting at the feeling of being so stretched out. you don’t even hear yourself keening, so focused in the way toji’s cock breaches your walls like this is the first time all over again.

toji’s so gentle even when you can hear his heaving breaths, his fingers — the free hand that he has that’s holding onto your hip — dimpling your skin where the thin line of sweat builds up because of the heat simmering from toji’s palm. you peer up at him through clumped lashes, gasping quietly at the look you see on his face.

toji’s brows curl the way you know he’s barely suppressing himself from punching in his thrusts. his lips — scarred and plump and beautiful — are pulled in a snarl, and you shiver at the intensity of his eyes when he pulls them up from where you two are connected to meet your own.

he growls, the sound so animalistic it reverberates within the space between you two, sending goosebumps rising across the expanse of your skin.

“shit, baby,” toji groans, full-stopping and bracing himself with his hands on either side of your head. a sort of giddy and disbelief fills the bubble in your stomach — toji isn’t even fully in yet. “you’re so good, might just cum like this.”

he shallowly pulls out, you moan, your tears building up again, before he’s thrusting back in and breaching further in you. “just gon’ feel your cunt warm my cock like this, have you looking like the doll you are, an’ i’ll be gone.”

he sweeps your damp hair away from your face.

“you heard what i said, baby?” toji asks like you weren’t hanging onto his every word like they are gospel, pulling his cock back out, the slide is torturously slow, and only stopping when all that’s left in you is the head of his weeping cock. “you could milk me dry with just a bat of your eyes.”

you giggle, punching his chest playfully. “shut up and fuck me already!” you whine. toji winks at you in response and you roll your eyes with a fond smile, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“mm, whatever my princess wants.” then toji thrusts all the way in.

you wail, feeling his cock hit something nestled deep in you, but you couldn’t even think for a second and figure out what it was because toji’s pulling out, not letting you get used to the full stretch of his cock, and fucking into you just as fast, his pelvis grinding against yours.

toji doesn’t stop, his hips unrelenting as they piston fast and hard and deep. you squeal, your fingers digging into the duvet, fisting them tightly as dizzying pleasure overwhelms you. toji’s head bows, the muscles of his back rippling as he does so, and bites on the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

“toji!” you cry, voice almost breaking into a sob, at the sharp pain on your neck mingling with the overdrive of pleasure erupting across your veins.

toji hums, his voice muffled in your skin. when he pulls back, he folds himself before you, pressing his weight on the back of your thighs.

“god, baby,” toji groans. “so wet around me.” he humps his hips forward as he says this, as though urging you to feel the sloppy mess running down the sides of your thighs. you choke, your eyes rolling back. toji does it again, his face finding its spot on the crook of your neck as he fucks you, his hips rolling every time he’s pressed close, and you hiccup at every new angle he hits.

there’s a weight inside you every time toji fucks in. it feels foreign but not unwanted; overwhelming and sensitive. when toji bucks in, you realize what it is that he’s hitting.

you squeal, crying as you scream, almost like the knowledge alone of toji pressing his cock in your deepest part brought about a new feeling of pleasure.

toji laughs, his voice ripping through your echoes of shaky sobs. “you feel it, baby?” he lifts his face to meet your eyes. “oh, yeah you do.” his voice crinkles like he is amused.

“deep!” you cry, trembling, your mind unable to string any more coherent sentences.

toji hums. “feel me kissing your cervix? if i press in like this,” he pauses to press his pelvis flushed close to yours, his eyes furrowing and his grin growing sharp when he feels you squeeze around him, your tight walls spasming around the thick curve of his cock. you let out a long hiss, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of being utterly stuffed.

“see, sweetheart?” toji continues, his voice low and guttural. “your womb is practically opening up for my cock.” you hiccup at his words, your cheeks warming up at the slur of his voice. the imagery makes your moans wobble, and toji laughs when he feels your pussy twitch around him again.

“oh darling,” he croons. “you love it when i talk to you about your hungry cunt? wanna hear the way it’s clinging so greedily around my cock? oh, yeah you do. you love being reminded how desperate of a slut you turn to.”

you sob, your voice breaking into breathy ah-ah-ahs. toji shakes his head, fully endeared even when you are splayed out before him — your skin glistening with sweat; your hair sticking to your forehead; your pussy stretched and wet and dripping as it clings around toji’s thick cock.

toji hums, delighted, before straightening back again. his cock slides out, its head leaving the depths of your walls — your cervix, you are reminded when toji rocks back in again as if testing how deep he’s claimed you — and you watch, even with muddled mind and blurry eyes, as toji holds onto the meat of your thighs.

it all happens so quickly. you saw toji’s mirage, a god-incarnate before you, and the next thing you know, he’s fucking you hard and fast, his mind focused on nothing but making you cum. you can hear yourself screaming, your throat burning alongside the pleasure erupting from your pussy. your blunt fingernails are digging into toji’s shoulders, and it is all you can do to reel yourself in from the numbing pleasure as toji pistons his hips, his pace picking up, going faster, faster, faster–!

“shit, baby!” he crows as the first spray of your squirt hits his pelvis. “yes!” toji hisses. “c’mon, sweetheart, keep squirtin’ on me.”

your eyes roll back and your ears are ringing, but you do just as he said: you squirt with every push of his cock, the rivulets between your thighs dripping to stain the sheets.

it takes toji four unrelenting thrusts before his hard pistoning peters into pathetic humps, his own orgasm building rapidly. “‘m gon’ breed this pussy,” toji murmurs, so pussy-drunk that his words turn into accented slurs. “‘m gon’ fill you up. you want that, baby? wanna be filled up?”

“yes, please!” you scream, nodding, your hand reaching down to rub at your hardened clit. “fill me, toji! fill me, please!”

“of course, sweet thing,” toji growls, pushing his cock all the way in, before you feel the sprays of hot cum shooting into your sensitive walls.

a choked moan escapes your throat before you are cumming agin, your soaked cunt squeezing toji’s one last time — “fuck, darling,” he moans, his voice curling into a hiss — then your eyes finally shut close.

——————————————————

you wake up to your head tucked into the crook of toji’s neck, your silk pajamas crinkling as you move about the bed. throbbing pain echoes mutely from your spine, and your exhausted mind reels back at the onslaught of memories.

oh. oh fuck.

you can’t believe you passed out. while toji’s balls deep in you, too.

you choke, embarrassment rushing across your veins.

a muffled squawk is ripped from your throat, tentatively distracting you from your thoughts, when toji’s arms tug you further into his embrace like you’re not already pressed flush to him. you study his face, watching as his brows begin to crinkle like he’s about to wake up.

before you can effectively escape from the rousing toji, his voice rumbles from where his lips are pressed on the crown of your head.

“g’mornin’,” he whispers.

you cringe, realizing that you have to face the embarrassment of passing out on toji while he’s literally breeding you. you cough, awkwardly, and greet, “good morning,” your voice quiet and broken. oh wow.

toji whistles, pulling back just enough to eye you. “you sound ruined,” he states.

you smack his exposed — hickey and bite mark-littered — chest. “whose fault is it?” you hiss at him.

toji grins. “mine.” he says it so cheekily and with so much pride, his scarred lips stretching to show off sharp canines.

you smack him again, futilely ignoring the explosion of warmth in your cheeks and the growing embarrassment curling at your stomach.

“ow! baby, ow!” toji cries, rolling away to avoid your soft punches. you follow him with difficulty, your body still aching, but you are determined to smack toji until your shame abates.

you fail, anyways, when toji drapes himself across you like an overgrown and clingy cat, trapping you between him and the soft bed.

ugh, why’s he literally so cute.

#suns.f #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x fem reader #toji smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #jjk #suns

[qlossytbh]

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 working with the BAU team has always been challenging— but your suddenly disrupted by a case that hits close to home and you don’t know how to react when your past starts clawing at you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 drinking, usual criminal minds content, mentions of dead bodies, mentions of murder, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of anxiety

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 AHHH so the series has begun. this is based on this lovely request. i’m trying my hardest for things with the UnSub and the case to be as coherent as possible while the storyline progresses, so it’s very important to pay attention to names and your past ;)

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"And that is your third drink of the night—" You reached over to Garcia's drink, ripping it from her lips as she tried puckering onto the straw before you could steal her of the drink she had rightfully purchased. Protests flowed out of her as you brought her drink to your own lips, taking a deep sip of the fruity alcoholic beverage, savoring the light flavors in your mouth. "At least share."

"Anyone tell you how boring you can be sometimes?" She slumped herself across the table complaining profusely at your antics.

"All the time actually," You shrugged. "And I'm not boring, I just don’t condone alcoholism."

"Says the one whos about to singlehandly down my drink," She rolled her eyes at the sound of your straw reaching the bottom of the glass with a slurp. You looked at the glass and shrugged your shoulders innocently.

"Oops,"

The whole BAU had finally decided to host another one of these team bonding activity's, and the vast majorty had agreed on hitting a bar that was near the downtown area, Morgan having been the main enthusiast at picking where the bonding would take place.

You thought it'd be fun honestly. It was unusual to see the group in an ambience that wasn't so full of anxiety and tension all the time. Of course, a joke or two would slip around the office, mainly through the jet rides but it was hard to lay back all the time when you were constantly chasing sadists and murderers around.

It had also been a while since you had gotten somewhat dressed up. A simple black squareneck bodysuit and some leather pants wasnt your biggest definition of getting dressed up, but you knew today was casual, so you didnt want to go completely out. You chose to instead settle for a outfit that'd allow you to blend in and some soft curls in your hair.

Everyone was in their own little comfortable bubble, which really allowed you to understand your co-workers and friends better. You watched how JJ and Emily chatted along a few other men on the further side of the bar, laughing at their antics and desperation when it came to obviously impress them. It was funny even from this side of the bar how badly the men were oggling them shamelessly.

Just as you were about to look for Derek, you felt someone clash between you and Garcia. "Well how are the two of the smokiest looking woman in this bar doin'?"

"I was just looking for you," You jabbed him with your elbow as he wrapped his arm around you. "Should've known you'd come crawling to look for us."

"By us, I hope you mean just me." Garcia butted in. Derek scoffed and allowed his arm to leave your shoulder and instead wrap both of his around the blonde that sat next to you on the bar stool.

"Pfft, you kidding?" He scoffed. "Don't' get me wrong, those pants look great on you sweetheart, but Garcia here's my one and only."

You let out a laugh at Morgans comment. He was a flirt, a natural one, it'd been just like this since you first arrived at the BAU all those years back. You however, were inmune to his charm, and he'd always been a brotherly figure to you. The two of you teased the other and often got into small discussions that were similar to that of a sibling dynamic. Nevertheless, you cared a lot for him.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," You eyed Morgan, sipping through the straw of the recently emptied drink. He pinched your cheek as a familiar laugh left his mouth while you slapped his hand away.

Your eyes scanned the rest of the bar, allowing your shoulders to slouch ever so slightly. You swirled the small cubes of ice around in the glass, looking at them intently before Derek whistled low accompanied by a deep chuckle. "Looks like Boy genius is hitting jackpot over there."

Your eyes turned to where Derek was gesturing and you saw Spencer sitting at a small table with three other woman practically perched on his arms. You watched as his arms enthusiastically flew over the place. Garcia pitched in. "Well thats a first,"

You chuckled to yourself, not failing to notice how his mouth was moving at an unreadable pace, which probably meant he had already went into what you'd like to tease him as 'wikipedia mode'. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pursed as they moved inaudibly, the same way they always did when he rambled on about something.

"Look at my man go," Morgan cheered.

"He looks constipated.." Garcia squinted her eyes, noticing his nervous and tense posture as one woman grazed his forearm.

You and Spencer had gotten really close over the past few years. He was the first person you immediately hit it off with when you first arrived to the BAU a little over a year later than he had. It initially started when the two of you were unintentionally being paired in many cases together.

However, Hotch and at the time Gideon realized that putting both of your minds together was a power weapon in disguise— Both you and spencer were incredibly smart but very different. Spencer was very good with statistics and information, and you were good with reading people in great depth, which is why the two of you made such an outstanding team.

By being together all the time, you slowly started to get more comfortable around eachother and soon enough the two of you became inseperable. Wether it was getting coffee with eachother in the morning, or staying over later in the office to read over some unsolved cases, you and Spencer were attached at the hip as months went on. It had taken a while to crack his shell open, but slowly, you'd manadge for him to loosen up.

"Looks like that's my cue," You said standing up and dusting of your pants. Morgan and Garcia shared a look while you sighed heavily, watching how Spencer entirely short circuited when one of the girls reached up to tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

You knew Spencer had a thing with his personal space, but also having a heart of gold prevented him from having the guts to push these woman off. You could tell that he didn't desire their company or attention.

You rounded the bar and made your way to the table where Spencer desperately needed saving. Once you walked closer to them, the woman in the middle looked up with an unamused gaze and then Spencer's intimidated eyes met yours. You clicked your tongue, gesturing your chin to the side and insinuating them to take a hint.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies," You smiled tightly, crossing your arms. "I need to steal your boy candy for a bit."

"We're busy.." One of them said, smiling at you wickidly and she placed her hand on Spencer's shoulder. You groaned internally because your intentions weren't territorially driven and these woman felt some inescessary need to fight you for Spencers attention.

"I wasn't asking." You responded sharply, given them one final smile. Under the intensity of your gaze, the three woman finally cowered and got to their feet, walking away while tossing their hair back at you and spitting hateful glances towards you. You followed their trail with your eyes before looking back at Spencer and narrowing your eyes at him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," He clasped his hands together, blabbering as you walked over and plopped into the seat next to him.

"Why is it that you always end up in these situations?" You looked over at him. "You have got to stop attracting the bitches.." You rested your elbow on the chair and tilted your chin towards him.

"They came and I didn't really know how to—" He started but cut himself off with a groan, slumping deeper in his chair and dragging his hands across his face. He peered at you through his fingers and you chuckled at him, looking down and shaking your head to yourself.

Spencer quickly noticed how your hair was lightly curled towards its ends and the makeup on your face was giving you a soft glowy hue. His eyes scanned your lightly tinted cheeks and eyelids, along with the long dark wisp of your eyelashes that deepened your gaze, not entirely used to seeing you like this. You finally looked up at him, and eyed him.

"What?" You laughed, shoving his arm lightly. He looked down and smiled to himself. When he looked back up at you, he opened his mouth, wanting to tell you all about the statistics of makeup and its history and evolution along the years to ease his nerves, but Derek's voice cut through the comfortable chattering the two of you were sitting in.

When you looked up at him, you saw JJ, Emily and Garcia standing alongside him, all having the same familiar expression on their face. Derek motioned towards his phone and you nodded your head understandingly. You knew that Rossi and Hotch had probably called everyone in due to a new case. You looked over at Spencer, sighing heavily. "Duty calls,"

Spencer stood up from his seat and grabbed your hand, helping you up from your own and letting his chest heave with disappointment. "Are we ever going to get a day off?"

You looked up at him and patted his chest. "Now that is a stupid question for someone as smart as you, Dr. Reid."

The whole team scattered into the conference room as Rossi held his phone to his ear and chatted stoically to someone, pacing back and forth the white board. You scanned Rossi's posture and the few pictures that were peeping out of a file and your brows furrowed.

"What do you think happened now?" You voiced, turning to Spencer, who scanned the room just as intently as you had beside you, hands deep in his pocket. Morgan, JJ and Parentiss had already fallen into their seats waiting for Rossi to hang up with whoever it is he was talking to. Spencer looked down at you and tightened his lips, shrugging slightly.

You hugged yourself as an unsettling feeling sat in the pools of your gut. There was something that happened to you often where you couldn't really voice a feeling into coherent words, but something about a situation seemed oddly off in your gut. The familiar feeling was currently bubbling inside of you and it evidently manifested onto your expression. You felt a hand on your shoulder accompanied by a light squeeze.

"You okay?" Spencer asked, furrowing his brows in concern. You quickly waved him off, smiling at him and taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah, just got a bad feeling,"

As Rossi hung up, you and Spencer made your way to your chairs. Spencer absentmindedly pulled yours out, allowing you to sit before him. You mumbled a quick 'thanks' before sitting down comfortably and turning your attention to Rossi with Spencer not far beside you.

"Sorry to interrupt team bonding but," Rossi shoved his phone into his pocket. "We've got trouble."

Rossi lifted the projector remote, turning on its contents and revealing a series of gruesome pictures. The photos showed what looked to be a couple, brutally slaughtered with blood splattered across the walls.

"Easton Green, 27 and Michael Green, 28, brutally slaughtered last night in their home here in Virginia," Rossi said scrolling through a few pictures of the couples body limply displayed across what looked like a bathroom. "Both victims received more than 20 stab wounds and both had their ring fingers severed. Due to autopsy reports, Easton had water in her lungs and Michael showed signs of sexual assault."

Your heart stopped in the back of your throat as Rossi read off the names of the victims, following with ID pictures of the two familiar faces you hadn't seen in a long period of time.

"A week ago, an almost identical murder took place." He punched the buttons on the small control, revealing a stomach churning picture. "Sarah Johnson, 28 and Adam Johnson, 28. The couple presented the same stab wounds and severed fingers, but no signs of sexual assault and no water in either of their lungs."

Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply as your mouth hung open, just slightly. You never thought you'd hear those names again, much less the way you had just right now.

"Both murders happened in their own houses and signs of forced entry are present." Rossi said.

"How do we know that these murders are connected?" JJ asked, scribbling mindlessly into her journal.

"We were able to make with the little evidence they've presented so far was that both couples had been recently married," Hotch pipped in. "The stab wounds are also identically the same, along with the way the bodies were left."

"So, wait, we have someone hunting around recently married couples?" Derek asked, brows furrowed tightly in curiosity.

"In a way that would explain why the ring fingers were severed..." Spencer quipped, scrolling through his files. You glanced over at him, watching the familiar furrow in his brow. He looked up. "Recently married couples wear their wedding bands on their ring fingers after the ceremony takes place. They're exchanged during the wedding ceremony and symbolize the couple's union and commitment to each other,"

"And with the severed fingers are probably the wedding bands," Derek blew out.

"If only the ring fingers are being cut off than maybe our UnSub probably has a personal vendetta with marriage in itself and is most definitely acting out of rage," Parentiss quipped in as well, crossing her arms over her chest. You looked from person to person as they all added in their analysis and group review, but you felt as if you couldn't keep up. Your brain had stopped working the second Easton and Michael had been named.

"We'd have to figure out how the UnSub is connected to the victims to be able to confirm that, and by that we'd have to connect the victims," Hotch uncapped a marker and turned to the board.

"Actually," You finally said. "All these victims went to North Virginia High School, the private school over by the upper east side of town."

The room fell silent as everyone's head turned to you. You froze momentarily, sinking into your seat while swallowing the bundle of embarrassment that seeped into you as the spotlight suddenly found your way. You signaled to the files "I, uhm— I used to go to school with these people."

"All four of them were in my class, I was actually friends with Easton. Sort of—" You shook your head. "—I haven't talked to her for years until well..."

 You looked over at the board and cringed internally.

"So were they together since high school?" Derek asked you, turning in his seat towards you. You pursed your lips in thought.

”Sort of," You flipped a page over onto it's back and pointed your finger to one of the lines. "Easton and Michael starting dating a year or two after graduation, but Sarah and Adam had been dating since sophomore year of college."

Your frown deepened, suddenly memories of your past flooding your head quicker than you anticipated. And quicker than you were prepared for. You rubbed your temple and laid back in your chair.

"Whoever the UnSub is could be connected to the class or school," You stated, deciding to fall silent until further notice. Hotch nodded in your direction, eyeing you suspiciously before Rossi began laying out a few more details of the case to which you couldn't completely pay attention to. Your hands fell into a nervous pattern of picking at the skin that sat comfortably on the side of your nails.

Spencer reached out from the side, placing one of his hands over both of your to prevent you from continuing your anxious habit. When you looked over at him, his gaze remained on Rossi and Hotch, eyebrows slightly furrowed yet expression completely relaxed as if he had not a single thought flowing around in his head. 

God knows you needed a bit of that. You glared at him but with a huff of surrender, you slouched further into your chair, allowing your fingers to dance along with Spencers underneath the table and away from anyone else's view.

After about thirty minutes of placing down a starters plan to the case and more unnecessary stuff that you weren’t all too interested in paying attention to, everyone in the team was dismissed. You snapped out of your trance, suddenly realizing that everyone was standing up and getting ready to leave. 

"You in there?" Spencer called out from beside you as he shoved his paperwork into his familiar satchel. You hummed offering him a quick, forced smile. 

"Yeah," You threw your bag over your shoulder. Spencer stopped you with a firm hand as you attempted leaving the room. He gave you a knowing look, clearly not even impressed by your poor attempt at running away from his worried gaze. 

"I’m fine Spence," You said, tilting your head slightly to the side. "I’ll tell you about it in the car,"

When you and Spencer first started to get along, both of you had realized that your lived not far from the other. A fifteen, maybe twenty minute car ride from the others place at most. When Spencer found out you usually took the train to get home, he insisted on dropping you off every evening after work. At first, it was a bit awkward, due to the fact that none of you knew anything about the other, opting for plugging your AUX cord into your phone and playing music to distract yourself from the silence. But now, things were different and things were everything but uncomfortable

"Y/N," Hotchs voice cut through the air thickly. "A minute?”

Your head snapped over to Hotch. You tensed, looking back over Spencer to which he tightened his lips, giving you a look full of sympathy. You assured him with a nod in the direction of the door. "I’ll catch up with you," 

With a final nod, Spencer left the room, closing the door behind you. You tensed your fingers at your side and swiftly patted the sides of your pants. You suddenly felt intimidated by Hotchs presence. It made you incredibly panicky not knowing why he called you to stay behind. Hotch had always been someone you found hard reading.

"Whats up?" You asked walking up to him and gripping at the strand of your bag.

"Are you okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows, jerking back slightly. Now that was definitely not what you had expected. 

"What..?" You asked, profusely confused as to where his question was coming form. He continued, organizing the files that were left on the meeting table.

"I asked if you were okay," He paused turning towards you. "If you’re going to be in conditions to work this case—“

You invoulintarily let out a laugh, to which you clamped shut in embarrassment at Hotchs unnamused glare. “Sorry..”

You shifted on your toes and sighed heavily. You understood that this sudden revelation may make people think this could effect your performance in the case. I mean, these were people you spent all four years of high school with and to any logical human being, in a sense, it would be emotionally impacting if ex-classmates were being executed one by one. 

But Hotch knew very little about your past. No one did. So with a firm nod you looked over at Hotch. "I am perfectly capable of working on this case Hotch."

“I didn’t doubt your capability,” He stared at you intently. “I asked if you were okay to work on the case,”

You stopped, watching him slowly try to weave his way into the truth of what these people actually meant to you. But you quickly shot him a smile, blocking him out and preventing him from seeing what was going on in the inside of your head.

“Yes, I am.” His eyes scanned yours, and with a simple sigh he shook his head and finally dismissed you from the room.

The case did not effect you in the slightest, and you weren’t lying about that. It was just very shocking finding out that someone who used to be your best friend was slaughtered to death. But you knew that nothing— no even the people who used to go to school with you were going to put a halt to your job, much less when you love doing said job so much.

You said your final goodbye to Hotch and walked over to the door, exiting it carefully. When you turned your back to the closed door, you found Spencer sitting against one of the desks. You crossed your arms and glared at him. 

"You should’ve gone home," You said. He pursed his lip, cocking his brows with amusement laced in his features. "I could’ve taken the train.”

You turned on your heels and allowed him to follow beside you. Spencer let out a laugh, throwing his head back. You beamed at his smile. 

"That’s funny," He said, looking down at you as both of you made your way to the elevator. "Did you know that transit riders, especially women, are often victims of a wide range of offenses of a sexual nature that happen on, as well as at bus stops and train stations."

You looked up at him with an unamused look, knowing he was doing this just to prove a point. He opted to continue. "Verbal harassment is the most common form of harassment, with 41% experiencing "obscene/harassing language" and 26% being subjected to sexual comments. Among non-verbal types of harassment, 22% had been stalked and 18% had been victims of—“

"Okay fine!" You exhasperated. "I wouldn’t have taken the train anyways, I have my personal choufer with me."

You patted his arm with a smile on your face as you rolled your eyes at his triumphal grin. Once the elevator door opened you pursed your lips. "Can I at least pay those 25 dollars of gas?"

He looked forward as the elevator door closed, scoffing. "Not a chance.”

#fanfic #fic rec #fiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #spencer reid series #spence #fluff #criminal minds series #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x you #dr spencer reid x reader #fanfiction

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Flight Suit Aphrodisiac

Summary: There was something about seeing Jake in his flight suit that got to you every single time. It had always been attractive, sure, but nowadays it was like something of an aphrodisiac. It didn’t matter what you were doing or where you were; when you saw him in it, you had to have him.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n, can be read as unnamed OC)

Word Count: 1000

Warnings: Smut, language.

Notes: Written for this request from @arson-tm. I hope you like it! 

______

There was something about seeing Jake in his flight suit that got to you every single time. It had been attractive since the very first time you saw him in it, strutting down the produce section in the grocery store you met in, but nowadays it was like something of an aphrodisiac to you. Every time he wore it around you, your heart rate increased, your panties dampened (assuming you were wearing any to begin with), and you just had to have him. 

You blamed the hormones. 

“I’m going to be late for work,” he grunted into your neck, even as he continued to nip and suck at the skin, darkening the bruises he had left last night. You tightened both your legs and your pussy around him in response, making him groan. His next thrust was harder than the ones before and you craved more.

“Your fault,” you panted, nails scratching at his back hard enough to make him hiss. You raised your hips to meet his on his next downward stroke. “This god damn suit.” 

A cocky look you knew all too well took over Jake’s pretty face and he smirked down at you. “You like the flight suit, baby?” 

“You know I do,” you whined. His cock hit that spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling back and you let out a loud, drawn out moan of his name. 

“Yeah you do. Can’t get enough of me in this thing, can you?” 

Your hair splayed out on the pillow as you frantically shook your head. You were so focused on how good he felt inside of you that you were losing the ability to form coherent sentences. But Jake loved you like this, you knew. His already inflated ego grew even bigger when you were a dumb, fucked out mess because of the pleasure he was bringing you. And truly, he deserved it. No one has ever made you feel this good and you knew no one ever would again. 

He gave a breathless chuckle as he pounded into you harder and faster. The mattress squeaked and the headboard hit against the wall. 

“Please,” you managed to whimper. That familiar coil was tightening inside of you, and you were growing closer and closer to the edge. All it took was the rough pad of Jake’s thumb pressing firmly against your clit to throw you over. You gushed around his cock, his name bouncing off the walls of your bedroom as you screamed. Through the haze you thought maybe he was praising you for being a good girl and how beautiful you looked as he chased after his own orgasm. You were still spasming around him when you felt him release inside of you, his warm cum filling you up. 

Like they always did when he was fucking you this way, his lips met yours as he rode it out. As much as he loved hearing you scream for him, he loved kissing you as you both came down from the high even more. You didn’t mind a bit as your tongue tangled with his; he tasted like the spearmint toothpaste he had used right before you jumped him. You hummed in delight. 

Your foreheads pressed together when he pulled away, the both of you fighting to catch your breath. You rubbed a hand up and down his back as your heart rate calmed, feeling the scratches you had left there. When you had your bearings somewhat back, you purposefully clenched your walls around him. His softening cock twitched inside of you and his groan made you smile.  

“You’re gonna be late,” you warned him, echoing his earlier words, “better go.” 

“You fucking tease of a woman,” he said gruffly, but there was no actual heat behind his words. He kissed you again before slowly pulling out and rolling off of you to stand. You clenched your thighs together on instinct; you loved the feel of his spend inside of you. You carefully moved onto your side to watch as he jogged into the en suite, coming back out with a damp washcloth. You took it from him before he had the chance to use it on you himself. 

“If you touch me down there right now, you won’t be going into work.” 

His chest puffed out in pride and you rolled your eyes; you loved him so much.

You watched him put his undershirt on and snap his briefs back into place, before continuing on to pull the heavy material of the suit back up his thighs. You don’t know if you were relieved or disappointed when, instead of putting it all the way on, he tied it at his hips. The full appeal came from seeing him all zipped up in it, the material stretched across his broad chest and shoulders with his patches on display, and he knew it. 

“I love you, darling.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips and then another to your forehead, before shifting to press a kiss to your growing tummy. He rubbed a thumb over the stretching skin. “And I love you too, little one.” 

Like it always did when he spoke to your unborn child, your heart melted a little. You grabbed his hand before he could walk away from the bed you were still lying in, completely naked and on display with no shame whatsoever. 

“Call me on your way home?” you requested. It was unnecessary because he always did, but you asked him every morning anyway. 

Jake quirked an eyebrow, a playful but knowing look in his eyes as he squeezed your hand. “Should I wear the flight suit home?”  You bit your lip with a nod, shamelessly looking him up and down. Desire sparked in you again as you thought about how good he always made you feel; you were so lucky he was all yours. “Yes. Please.”

______

Notes: Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs always mean a lot.

I don’t have a tag list for Jake and don’t want to bombard my Bradley girlies with this if they don’t want him, but in case I do anything for Hangman in the future, let me know if you’d like to be added to a new list 💚

Masterlist

#alli writes #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #tgm fanfiction #hangman imagine #tgm smut #Jake Seresin x female reader

[volturissideslut]

Could we see Emmett with a size kink??? I feel like he would end up splitting them in two. I also really feel like he would get off on being bigger than his partner!!!

𝕰𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖙 𝕮𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓

OF COURSE WE CAN

Yes, Emmett loves the size difference between the two of you. Innocent things like reaching over your head to grab something, opening tricky jars for you and picking you up with ease. And yes, he'd let you put a bow on his arm and then flex for you

However not all of it is oh so innocent.

Very few people can make a nice walk through the woods with your partner the best sex of your life, but Emmett is one of them.

The tree he had you up against has been far more than splintered, and now lies destroyed on the floor.

He had given up on hoping you would be supported by anything from the force of his thrusts, and now he just lifts you effortlessly with his hands on your thighs. One big hand of his covering so much of underneath you

Tucked all nicely into his chest, biting the fabric of his shirt is the only way to even somewhat muffle the moans you're letting out. Not that it's much use, the way he's stretching you out so deliciously feels too good to for coherent thoughts, let alone think to muffle yourself properly.

Realistically, the only thing moving is his arms as they slam you up and down on his cock and simultaneously show of the taut muscles on his upper arms, feet dangling over his broad shoulders.

Not that this is the only time he uses the size of his arms to his advantage, no. Once he had you stood in front of a mirror so you could see how large he was in comparison. Hands so big cupping your boobs that bras would be rendered useless, fingers so thick in you that thoughts are rendered useless.

And yes, he would let you put a bow on it.

#x reader #headcannons #hc #twilight #twilight renascence #twilight saga #ask #asks open #request #reqs open #volturissideslut #emmett cullen x you fluff #emmett cullen x reader fluff #emmett cullen x y/n #emmett cullen fluff #emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen #emmett x reader #emmett cullen smut #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #jasper hale #alice cullen #rosalie hale #bella swan #edward cullen

[whereireid]

𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

pairing:dark!boss!steve rogers x virgin!fem reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.9k | warnings: dubious consent ! power imbalance (boss!steve, employee!reader) sexual naivety, height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader], oral m receiving, rough p in v, misogyny, sexism, breeding kink, daddy kink, housewife kink, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, praise kink, spanking, captain kink, dumb baby reader (in steve's eyes), nonconsensual pregnancy, reader loves big mean stevie and loves when he taints her <3

PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.

summary: Steve Rogers is in deep need of a new personal assistant. You, an intern for Stark who often loiters around the Avengers Compound, put yourself forward for the position. You believe working under the Captain America will help you to get in good graces throughout your career. Little do you know, being America’s golden boy’s personal assistant means doing a little more than rummaging through files and writing letters.

—

So pretty, so perfect, so poised. Steve Rogers sits back comfortably in his chair, his eyes trained on you, never leaving, not even to acknowledge the poor waitress who puts his beer down in front of him. You speak proper, each word flowing from your mouth with purpose, your speech coherent, and your voice confident.

It makes Steve’s cock twitch in his trousers as he watches you. Your gaze on him doesn’t linger, but you do flinch when he reaches towards his beer too quickly. It makes his stomach flip, and he tries to hold back the hiss that threatens to slip past his lips. He knows he’s America’s Golden Boy, and that he’s supposed to be better than this; but he was raised in the 1930’s, and his ideals surrounding women never really fizzled out.

Your voice fades back in, and as you address him, it snaps Steve out of his train of thought. “So, I’m sure now that we’re well acquainted with each other, Captain Rogers—“

“Please. Just call me Steve. We’ve known one another long enough.”

He quirks a brow as your cheeks flood over in red, before beckoning you to continue your speech. “Well, then, Steve,” you swallow thickly, your voice dropping a few octaves, and Steve senses that he’s embarrassed you. “Now that we’re well - uh, better - acquainted, I hope that you can consider me for the position of your personal assistant.”

“What?” Steve’s blue eyes bore into yours, and they make you brood in anxiety. You feel childish, sitting in front of him in a flowery dress, at what could somewhat be considered an interview, asking to work for him. Perhaps you should’ve dressed nicer, more work appropriate? Yet, before you can blubber on, Steve continues; “doll, if you wanted to work for me, you could’ve just said. Did you do all of this to ask for the position?”

He blinks at you. Embarrassment washes over you like a tsunami wave as you blink back at him. Of course, you could’ve just said you wanted to work for him - you feel naive ever thinking otherwise. Steve’s not a stranger, you practically work with him every day, and he'd be more than enthusiastic to hear you out. He's not one of. the guys at work who ignore women and everything they have to say. He’s nice enough to always say hello to you and sometimes buy you coffee, and flowers if you were down. He's one of the good ones!“I thought it might’ve been inappropriate to ask you whilst you were training.” You shoot him a small smile, trying to ignore how the upwards tug of his lips makes your skin rise with goosebumps.

“Does Stark know you’re applying for this role?”

"He’s actually the one who suggested it.”

Steve takes a long sip of his drink. He stares at you over the rim of the glass, watching you squirm and ponder over his answer. He already knows the answer to your question, but watching you shuffle in your seat and act silly in front of him makes his cock throb, and he enjoys the feeling. You’re so innocent, pressing against the table, wide-eyed, acting as though your tits aren’t pressed together and basically on display for him. The dress is so low-cut. It makes him want to take you right here.

Did you wear that just to get him riled up? “Well, I can’t think of anybody more suitable to fit the position. You know the Compound, you know my office, and I’ve noticed you get on well with higher authorities. You seem like a doting employee.” He kisses his teeth slightly, looking down at the table, before looking up at you through his lashes. He tries to hold back the smirk on his face as he speaks, but it’s impossible not to: “of course, you will also be expected to work somewhat more flexible hours. Later start times, later finishes. We won't always be in the office at the compound - a lot of my additional work files are at my personal home office, but I can always make you up a key to give you easier access."

“Of course,” you chirp, nodding at him enthusiastically. “I’m okay with longer hours, and I can work around you and what you need.”

Steve grins. “Perfect.”

—

It has been about three weeks since you left your position as an intern at Stark Industries and began working for Steve Rogers. It was an exhausting process at first; the sudden change in routine, the heavy workload, the unsociable hours, and Steve often worried you would change your mind. If you couldn't bend for this position, you would break, and he was incredibly worried you'd do the latter. Perhaps because he hadn’t seen you frown so often before, but during the first fortnight of working as his assistant, your lips were always somewhat tugged downwards, and you were always so busy, unable to even joke with him.

You soldiered on, though. Managing to catch up to months worth of missed calls, avoided emails, old paperwork, and forgotten documents. Steve praised you every time you completed a task, and often he found you beaming up at him, prideful and flustered.

Yet, whilst peeking up from his desktop, he finds himself annoyed. You’re sitting quietly opposite him, noting down things and scheduling appointments, and he can’t help the twitch of his cock as he watches you do it. You're not incredibly busy anymore, and yet you're not engaging in any conversation with him. Steve knows you value professionalism, but he only really let you have this job because of his alternative motives when it comes to you.

His eyes flicker back to the computer screen, and then back to you. It's like before his brain can register what he's doing; he's doing it, but he doesn't mind. This is his office, after all, his space. You're his assistant, and if anything, you're supposed to assist him in doing it. His hands are wrapped around his thick, angry cock, and he pumps slowly, watching you intensely.

You're tapping away at your computer so innocently. Your eyes are wide and interested, and clearly whatever your scheduling for Steve has your entire attention because you don't even look up at him. He strokes his cock carefully, and slowly, and his breathing wavers as he runs a finger over his angry, red tip, using some of his precum for lube.

“You okay, Steve?” your voice fills the quiet room, and he looks over at you, his hands still wrapped around his cock. The naivety of your tone makes his cock twitch in his hands, and his pace slows. He makes eye contact with you, never breaking it as he slowly strokes his hand up and down his length. It makes him so much harder that you have no idea what he's doing, and he imagines what your lips would feel like wrapped around him.

“Fine, doll. Just a little sore.” Steve purses his lips as you nod. He meets your eyes, and you hold his gaze, concern plastering over your face.

You're so... modest. Completely unaware of what he's doing, and he loves it. Steve craves you; craves to taint the innocence which consumes you. You're too trusting for your own good, and one of these days, it's going to get you hurt.

Steve just needs to make sure it's him that hurts you, and nobody else.

“You do look awfully red, Steve.” You murmur across from him, concern painting your features. The heavy gaze your boss has on you makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable, but worry overrides any instinctive emotion. “Do you feel hot?”

Steve grunts in agreement with your question. He looks more disheveled than usual. His posture seems hunched, but he seems somewhat relaxed, and his gaze is hard and trained on you. You're unsure as to what's wrong - he's so red, it looks like he's burning up. Perhaps he has a fever, but you're sure the Super Soldier Serum ensures that he doesn't get ill. “Can I get you anything? Paracetamol? A glass of water?” you ask innocently, standing up from your desk chair, slowly walking towards him.

His computer monitor thankfully covers his crotch. Steve’s eyes don’t leave you, and it makes his cock leak when you softly begin to walk over to him. He’s almost certain you own nothing but inappropriate, seductive clothing; he’s seen more of your cleavage these past three weeks than he has anyone else’s, and it’s driving him crazy. The fact he’s managed to hold off from devouring you is insane, but he isn’t sure how much longer he can take.

Being the nice guy just doesn’t seem to be working. The hand which was stroking his cock stills, and he commands you to stop once you’re mere inches away, stood behind his monitor, so small he can hardly see you. “Do you own any appropriate clothing?”

His question is direct and his tone is reprimanding. Your knees wobble, and your head hangs slightly. Shame spreads throughout your body. “I didn’t realise this was inappropriate. My apologies.”

It’s unlike Steve to bark at you. Usually, he’s incredibly soft-spoken and considerate, yet it seems you’ve worn any patience he’s held for you thin. “Doll, every outfit you’ve worn this week has been low-cut and short.” He breathes, and your neck prickles with discomfort when you notice how dark and blown his pupils are. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been kind. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I don’t think these kinds of… outfits would be appropriate elsewhere. You didn’t wear these outfits when interning for Stark.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Your subordinate manner only makes his cock twitch more, and he’s thankful his hand is sheathing his cock, because the precum that trickles out of its covers his skin and not his trousers. “I’ll try to be more considerate next time.”

It’s painful to let go of his length, but he has to, and he shoves it back inside of his trousers and innocently buttons them up. “Are you wearing these suggestive outfits to get a rise out of me?”

You gasp. “No. Never. I - Sir, I aim to be as appropriate and considerate as possible. I’m sorry I’ve been misleading you.” Steve rises from his seat, and you swallow thickly, feeling incredibly small compared to your boss. You’ve often been close to him - side by side, brushing shoulders, but he’s always been soft-spoken and gentle, apologetic and genuinely caring. Now, it seems like his patience is worn thin, and as opposed to seeing a civilian Steve, you feel as though you're standing in front of a soldier. “I can go and change now if you want?”

“No.” His tone is so low it matches that of a growl, and you cower weakly as he towers over you. Fear pulsates in your being as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling incredibly unsafe, and your heart races in your chest. Steve would never hurt me, you remind yourself, he’s one of the good ones.

You open your mouth to speak, but Steve shushes you. His finger splays over your lips, and you feel scolded and childlike. “I think you do it for attention.” His finger pushes against you, as does his body, as he stalks forward and you shuffle backward, trying to keep any space between the two of you. “You know, it’s been hard staying silent for this long. Watching you from afar, never knowing what to say or do.” His hot breath fans your ear, and Steve’s nostrils flare. “Trying to be a gentleman. Buying you coffee and flowers and cards when you were working at the Compound as a way to be friendly and nice. But I don’t think you want that.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You squeak out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Steve’s fingers gently press against your skin, wiping away any that spill, his skin icy against your own. “I-I’ve appreciated the gifts. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He asks, his eyes shooting down at you. You nod your head eagerly, staring up at him, trying to ignore how the dark look in his eyes makes your stomach flip. “I don’t think you’re truly sorry. I gave you this job to be my personal assistant. I expected more of you. You’re dressing as whore, and you can’t even apologize correctly.”

You swallow thickly, staring up at him. “‘M sorry. I haven’t meant to present myself that way,” your voice wavers. “What would y-you deem a suitable apology, Steve?”

“Captain.” Steve’s fingers find their way into your hair, and you squeak slightly as he tugs at it. “You only get to call me Steve when you’ve been good, which you haven’t.”

“How should I apologize, Captain?”

Your voice is an incredulous whisper. The subordination you show drives Steve crazy, and it takes everything in him not to force your mouth open and push you onto his cock. No, he needs to coax you into it - make you agree that this is the best way to apologize. Any other way wouldn’t suffice.

It’s as though you can’t believe this is happening - and in a way, Steve can’t, either. He’s always imagined this happening - having you begging him to tell you how to do something in a way that’s deemed fit in his eyes, having you be in pain whilst doing it. He curses slightly, before breathing out, “use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me’. Don’t expect me to repeat myself again.” He warns, blinking down at you, before muttering, “you’ve dressed like a whore, sweetheart. I think it’s only fair the Captain treats you as such.” His thumb drags down your lips, and you look up at him with such hesitation it makes his balls throb. He feels as though the look on your face could make him cum already.

Warmth floods over your cheeks. It feels wrong as Steve’s palms press heavily on your shoulders, the weight of him coaxing you down. A shudder leaves you as he forces you onto your knees in front of him, and you stare at his trousers, which are tight by the groin. “Captain, I don’t think -“ you swallow thickly, shaking as he comes down to unbutton his trousers, and flinching once his hands clasp yours, “-I don’t think this is appropriate.”

Your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, and he glares down at you, relishing in your embarrassment. Your eyelashes are wet and tears prickle your eyes still, “You’re on your knees now, doll.” He huffs, blowing out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Your hands shake as he guides them to his trousers. “You might as well get on with it.”

“No I - I don’t want to.” Your voice wavers as he uses your hands to pry his cock out of his trousers, which is an angry red and seeping with cum, and you feel like scurrying away from it. “I-I haven’t ever done anything like this before.” Steve is stronger than you and the grip he’s got on your wrists makes you feel as though they will snap, so you decide not to, rather cowering away from his length in fear.

“Are you a virgin?” His question makes your head shoot up in embarrassment, your eyes wide and distraught, and he groans. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking virgin.”

“I never said I was,” you mutter, yelping when his hands strike you against the face. Fresh tears fall over old tear stains, and you flinch as his fingers splay over your chin.

He tuts. “Don’t lie to me. Are you a virgin?”

“Yes,” you murmur, shameful, eyes watery as you stare up at him. You sniffle, thankful for his gentle touch, which replaces the cruelty of his hands seconds ago. It makes your heart bloom with warmth as he brushes your face softly with his fingers, although he’s wiping away the pain he’s caused.

“My pretty little baby’s a virgin,” Steve coos, and the tone of his voice makes pressure form in your lower belly. “This mouth has never been around anyone’s cock before? Ever?”

There’s almost a deluded tone in his voice as he presses his tip against your lips. You quiver below him, your eyes trained on him as he pushes himself in your mouth. It feels wrong to do this with him - it feels exploitative, and whilst you opt to pull away from him, the wetness in your panties warns you otherwise. You’re enjoying this, and it’s making you feel terrible. You’re letting your boss take advantage of you and you love it.

You'd be lying if you denied the fact that you found Steve attractive. You had a thing for blonds, and the Golden Boy reputation he had made butterflies form in your belly. The fact he was so unlike what he seems makes your thighs clench and your pussy throb. A Golden Boy with an urge to taint; and somehow, you want to be tainted.

You hum against his cock, and it makes Steve’s stomach explode with heat. The wet of your tongue and the hot of your mouth is everything he’s ever wanted and more, and as your teeth scrape against him, he hisses, trying to hold back the smack he wants to deliver to you. You’re not ready for that yet; you’re a virgin, a sweet girl who needs taking care of. He needs to be gentle with you. “Nuh-uh-uh, doll. Cover those teeth of yours and hollow your cheeks - yes, like that, baby."

Steve breathes heavily as you take it in. It feels intrusive to your mouth as you suck on his cock, your tongue swirling up and down his tip. His hands make their way into your hair, and he gently begins to slide your head up and down, going at a quicker pace. It makes your belly ache with warmth as he does it, the feeling of his hands wrapped in your hair making you feel surprisingly... horny? It makes your face flush when you realize you're enjoying being used by Steve, and you eagerly begin to run your tongue up and down his length, tracing his veins and making sure to pay extra attention to his tip.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his balls slapping against your chin uncomfortably, “make your daddy’s cock nice and wet.” Steve’s pace quickens, and more and more of his cock forces its way into your mouth until your eyes are pricking with tears and you’re almost certain his length is going to suffocate you. Gag after gag follows through with each desperate thrust of his hips, and you clasp your hands around his thigh, looking up at him, eager to breathe. He doesn’t let you.

“My perfect little girl. Let daddy cum in your mouth and he’ll forgive you for dressing like such a whore.”

It’s not like you’ve got much of a choice anyway. In Steve's eyes, he's waited long enough to paint you in his cum, and it doesn’t take long for him to finish. He pulls out slightly, spewing cum over your cheeks and lips, grunting with approval at the sight of you. His innocent little personal assistant, who has never felt a man’s cock before today, has just had her throat fucked as though she were a fleshlight. Steve groans, steadying himself by using your head for support, and your nose crinkles as you swallow his cum which had painted your tongue.

It doesn't taste that bad.

“Best you clean yourself up.” Steve murmurs as you clamber up, knees shaking, the heat between your legs throbbing. “I don’t want my personal assistant to look so... defiled whilst she’s working alongside me.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As you attempt to scurry off to the bathroom, Steve stops you. “I want to make a few things clear about your position as my personal assistant, doll.”

You nod your head, uncertain as to what he might say next. The sight of you covered in his cum makes his heart bloom with pride, and he realises that he has finally got you where he wants you to be. “Your role as my personal assistant is to assist me with anything I deem necessary. Whether that be sexual or otherwise. You got that?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good girl.”

—

Your body has been aching and sore for days. Forcing yourself up from your desk chair, you jolt slightly at the sudden pain which shoots up through your spine. You look away from Steve’s hot gaze, which makes you feel flustered and funny, and you begin to flip through pages in your folder, desperate to keep yourself occupied and not draw too much attention from Steve.

“Come here, doll.” His voice is gentle, his arms wide and open, urging you in.

You nod your head, opting to agree. You've become conditioned to his sexual advances, and he accepts when you're not in the mood, saying that he doesn't want to pressure you. Steve is a good guy in that way; he wants you to move at your own pace. You only have to do this for a few more months or so, as that’s how long your contract is.

Steve taps his lap. You comply, carefully seating yourself atop of him, crinkling your nose when he gets too close. He notices, but he doesn’t care, leaning backward slightly and brushing a curl away from your face.

“What have I done for you to hate me?” his once confident voice is quiet, oozing with rejection.

You blink at him. “I - I don’t hate you.”

Steve hums, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. You shuffle uncomfortably in his lap, looking up at him with big, doe eyes, and it makes his cock twitch. You’re so innocent, so friendly, a big baby that needs protecting from the world. All Steve wants to do is protect you and keep you safe. “You don’t look at me the same anymore,” he notes quietly. “You used to look at me like I was a savior before you started working under me.”

You shuffle uncomfortably, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves slightly to get comfortable, and your breath hitches in your throat when his clothed crotch rubs against yours. “I still think of you as a savior, Stevie,” you murmur quietly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

You’ve worked for Steve long enough now to know that the way around difficult conversations is to stroke his ego. His hand snakes around your back, and he traipses his fingers up and down your back slowly. “No bra, huh? What have I told you about dressing appropriately?”

“S-sorry, Steve.”

“Mmm, I forgive you, baby.” His hands fall to your skirt, and his fingers slowly ride up them. The material parts with the moving of his hands, and your body flushes with heat when his finger slides up and down your slits. He tuts. “No underwear, either? This'll be a little harder to forgive.”

You squeak slightly as Steve pushes a finger inside of you. “Y-you asked me not to wear underwear when I'm around you.”

“Nuh-uh-uh. I don’t remember that, doll. Don’t make things up to try and make yourself better off.” Except, he does remember it because he practically commanded you to strip your underwear off the last time you wore some when working alongside him. But you don’t need to remember that. Steve wants you to believe everything you do for him is because you want to do it, not because he’s told you to.

“Really?” you squeak as he curls his finger inside of you, ensuring he hits against your spongy spot. You try to ignore the heaviness of Steve’s gaze, and you swallow dryly, stuttering as Steve slips another digit in, beginning to fuck you faster with a ‘come-forth’ motion.

“Yeah, doll. Maybe you just wanted your daddy to have easier access to this pretty pussy of yours. I know how much you like getting that little pussy touched.”

His fingers slow down inside of you, and he gazes down at you with a raised brow. You protest, trying to roll against his fingers, but he grabs your thighs and shakes his head. “Bad girls don’t get to feel good.”

“I’m not bad," you whine, and Steve shakes his head in response.

“You lied to daddy. Said he wanted you to wear no underwear. You said it like I’ve been forcing you not to wear underwear when it was your decision.”

The sharpness in his tone makes you recoil, and you still your lower half. against him, not wanting to make him anymore angrier than he already is. “I-I’m sorry. It was my decision. I’m sorry for lying.”

Steve sucks in a breath through his teeth. “You know, I’ve been holding back these past weeks. I wanted to break you in.” He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whine in protest, but your sounds are muffled when he shoves them inside of your mouth. You suck instinctively, and he groans against you. “I’ve been wanting to use that pretty pussy of yours for so long, doll. Been wanting to defile you and make you mine.”

Before you can even react, the tip of his cock is pressing against your slits. “I’ve wanted to fuck you and fill you up with my cum for so long now.” His voice is a growl, and you feel frozen in place, beginning to slowly shake your head. “Fuck you full of my babies. And I know you want that, too.” He groans as he presses harsh kisses against your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin.

“No, Steve,” you breathe heavily as he holds you into place, your own body no match for the strength of his. “I- I don’t want that. I'm not ready for a baby."

“But you are. You just don’t know it yet.” His cock pushes into you, and you let out a whimper, struggling against him. Your walls sheathe him, and you let out a pained squeak. "Look at how well you take me, baby. You were made for me. You’re so wet for me. Look at you, trying to deny your rightful place as my subordinate. My pretty little girl.”

He forces his cock into you slowly. Your walls squeeze around him, sheathing his cock so well, and you whimper, squeezing your nails into his shoulders so hard you feel as though you're going to leave behind crescent moons. "No, Steve," you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut, desperately trying to get rid of the burn between your leg. "'t hurts. Stevie, I'm not ready."

"You're ready, baby," he seethes, throwing his head back slightly as he pushes his hips up further. "Your little virgin pussy is hugging my cock so fucking tight."

A mewl escapes you as his cock brushes up against the spongy spot inside of you. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and mascara begins to brew below your lash line. Steve stares at you, his gaze passionate, wondering how he ever got so lucky. Not only has he got you exactly where he needs you, but he's also ruining you, tainting you for other men.

The only way he can truly ensure other men will leave you alone is to fill that belly of yours with his baby, so that's exactly what he intends to do. "Does that feel good?" he whispers, kissing your cheek softly. "You feel so full, baby?"

"So full, Steve," you whine, trying to adjust yourself to gather more comfort. Your walls rub against his cock as you adjust, and it feels kind of... good, so you do it again. Your hips slowly roll atop of him, and you whimper to yourself, pain mixing with pleasure.

Steve lets you bounce on him. It's a slow pace, and it doesn't hurt, though it feels unnatural to have something this big inside of you. It's not that you're entirely sexually naive - you've masturbated before, but this is completely different. Steve is huge, and with every roll of your hips, you can feel him. There's no room for escape, and your stomach flips as you throw your arms around his neck. "Steve," you breathe, eyes flittering shut as the coil inside of you threatens to break and snap, your toes curled in desperation. It feels as though you're just inches away from experiencing pure ecstasy, but you can't reach it, and it's making you so frustrated, you feel as though you could cry. "H-help me, Steve."

"You want Daddy's help when getting off?" he coos, brushing a curl away from your face. You stare down at him, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, and he groans slightly. So cute, so small, so ready for him. This is how you should be - begging for his help, needing him, relying on him. You're just a woman, after all; you need a big, strong man like Steve to take care of you.

His hips thrust up, and it's incredibly painful at first. Steve's pace is nothing compared to yours - you were being slow and gentle with your body, and he just wants to ruin it. His hips smash into you, his cock sliding in and out, and he peppers harsh kisses against your neck. You mewl against him, pressing up against his chest to feel him, your toes curling in your flats, your eyes dazed, mouth gaping. You look like a picture-perfect image, and Steve grunts as he fucks you, wanting to tip you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until the coil snaps. You murmur and shake against him, your thighs clenched as you cum, squirting all over his cock, drenching his balls and trousers. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you yell against him, his cock relentlessly fucking you throughout your orgasm.

"I'm gonna fill you with my babies," he growls, "drown your pussy with my fucking cum."

"No," you cry out, unable to move as he thrusts himself into you; again and again and again. You feel so helpless, so small and weak against him, and you stare up at him. His pupils are dark and blown, and his Adam's apple bobs desperately, his nostrils flaring as his cock twitches inside of you. "Please, pull out!"

"I don't think so, baby," he grunts, and with one final thrust of his hips, he finishes inside of you. Your walls squeeze him simultaneously, and he lets out a low, powerful groan, as he coaxes your walls with his cum. "Gotta make you a nice little housewife. Gonna have you popping out all of my babies."

Steve brushes away the tears which slip down your cheeks. He doesn't even realize how hard he's been holding you until he lets go, your arms riddled with handprint marks which he's sure will bruise. "Don't cry, doll," he murmurs, "you knew what came with the job."

"No, I didn't," you sniffle, pressing your head into his neck. It's wrong how his warmth and his smell act as a safety valve for you when he's the reason you're so upset. "I would've never - I would've never gotten into this if I knew what you expected from me."

A gentle sob racks your body, and Steve looks down at you, caressing your face gently. "Baby, stop crying. You're ruining that little face of yours." In honesty, Steve's patience is running thin. He's been good to you; caring, doting, paying you well for an easy job, and this is how you react? You cry into his arms after he tells you he's going to pump you full of his children? He's Captain America, for God's sake. You should be begging for it. "Just - Jesus fucking christ," he huffs as you continue to cry, grabbing your face harshly, and the sudden grip shocks you. "Stop crying. If you're going to speak, at least try and be fucking coherent."

Nodding your head, you wipe your eyes, which are tender and you assume, red. "I'm not ready for this," your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve almost feels a bit sorry at the sight of you. "I- I don't want this."

"Only good girls get what they want," Steve states plainly, staring at your disheveled face. He certainly got what he wanted - you look ruined, and you feel it, too. He imagines his cum is mixed with a bit of your blood; what, with him defiling you and all, he probably broke your hymen as well. The thought makes him grin to himself, and he utters, "I don't think you've been good, so you don't get what you want, baby."

"I'm sorry! I just - this doesn't seem like a fair punishment! I don't want this!" You cry out as Steve delivers a harsh smack to your ass, and you gaze up at him pathetically through your lashes as he tuts.

"I don't care if you think it's fair or not. You've been teasing me ever since you were an intern at Stark Industries, doll. I've been waiting to breed you for that long," his voice vibrates against you, and you shake your head, ashamed that you even thought you could get away with arguing against him. He's the Captain, and he has all of the control. "Anyway, you're just a dumb little baby. You have no idea what you want right now. But I do. I know what's good for you. Don't you trust me, baby?"

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