#( IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE DONE A START TO FINISH )

[demaparbat-hp]

Almost

[fountainpenguin]

"O, my queen, to shield thee from danger's deadly call... I will sin, I will kill- I will sacrifice my all..." (x)

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Final chapter of Criminal Experience today!

Chapter 9 - “Silenced”

��️ Read on AO3

💙 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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Impulse, Skizz, and Mumbo stand their ground - In that order, for better or worse - and our story draws to a close.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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Flickers later…

They shimmer into "people form" again with a great rush in the toes. Teleportation wraps the body, strangles the neck, and snaps them to the floor. Oof. Skizz lands on his feet, but slumps against the wall. Mumbo slams belly-first to dirt. The chill of the air and stink of composters leaves no doubt as to where Skizz dropped them. Mumbo braces on his forearms and takes a ragged breath, which turns into coughs and gags.

"Oh, goodness… I might be sick."

Impulse isn't doing much better. He heaves, snuffling mostly, and shakes his head about. His tattered wings flap behind him like something fighting for a scrap of life. Did something get torn out of him in that jump from there to here?

"Impulse-"

"Eugh," Skizz mutters, and makes a disgusting slurping noise. He glitters white and gold from the spectral arrow BigB pinged him with, and his skin's coated in dark blotches that look like dark, fresh burns. His knees bend. He squelches to the ground. A yell lashes overhead. Stomping feet kick up sand in a great scuff-scuff of illager boots. Mumbo presses flat to the dirt. They're under the arena, apparently in the loo… or at least some changing room with composters lined against the wall, separated by banners. BigB is up there right now, and Impulse coughs thickly in his elbow crook. The screwed-up eyes don't hide the sparks leaking from the corners.

"We gotta… run. Not hide… Illusioners can see through blocks."

"Forget that bit- Skizz is glowing. He'll chase us anywhere unless we teleport." Me too. White glitter still dances up and down his arms.

"Yes." Impulse cringes forward, clutching his arm. Did he bang it in the fall? Did Carrie land that on him? His shirt is torn, overall straps hanging loose. Mumbo glimpses just a flash of blue down his back where the mace must have pierced before Impulse drags his attention to the panting enderman. He lurches forward. Mumbo sits too (with a wince), but whatever he's feeling… Well. Impulse has it worse. Mumbo had the shield. It blocked a few arrows, but Impulse took some heavy hits. The shield lies abandoned in the dirt, plugged with arrows. So is Skizz.

"Don't pull," Mumbo warns, staying Impulse's hand as the phantom hybrid reaches for the nearest shaft. Impulse's claw-tipped fingers shake against the air.

"Skizz, we gotta go… We gotta go. You've gotta come to or he's going to find us. He's coming this way, I'm sure."

"Indeed." Mumbo casts his eyes to the blocks above. He can hear sand scuffling. "Impulse, he's digging in. He's breaking blocks. Hang on- Is he allowed to do that?" The bathroom ceiling can't be more than one layer deep. Only those blocks of sand stall the illusioner's descent, and he sounds as though he's on his knees and throwing whole handfuls behind him. That isn't proper mining. He's not grabbing blocks. He'll make himself a little sinkhole, filling it with spilled sand as he goes.

Impulse shifts closer. He grips Skizz's turtleneck collar and rolls it downwards. Skizz's every breath comes out in huffs. Mumbo catches one glimpse of thick blue soul goop at his neck and quickly looks away. Impulse, though, stays steady as. "All right, Skizz," he's saying. "We've gotta go. I can't carry you… Our pixels will blend together. Can you teleport? Can you walk? … Mumbo, start working on a way out."

"Through the door?" It looks open; it's the direction BigB isn't coming from (for the moment). Impulse makes a rolling gesture with his hand.

"Not that way- Just take the blocks from the wall."

"But- the roleplay immersion-"

"MUMBO!"

"Yes, sorry. I'll do it." He does have the pick. Mumbo spins it in his hand and starts hacking at the blocks, throwing strength in every swing. He gets two blocks deep before he cringes up, a spiral of pain flicking up his back. "Oh, wow…"

Swinging my scythe and jumping off roof's really catches up… And BigB's still digging overhead, furiously tearing through clumps of wet sand. The storm rages on above. Ah, yes. That's where Skizz's burns came from.

Skizz smiles feebly, shaky fingers clutching his jumper to his chest. "Hey, Impy… Got you out of there, didn't I?"

"Shh, shh… We're gonna be okay. Just try not to let those wounds seal over too much… We need to get you clean."

"The soul spawners give regen," Mumbo whispers, and Impulse bows his head. Skizz's fingers find the man's cheek, tracing sand and bits of soul goop from the bristles on his chin.

"You got a sword, Impulse?"

Impulse grasps his hand, pinning the palm against his face. "I don't trust that man. He's got a quiver full of arrows, lookalike copies, and Mumbo's scythe. We don't fight anymore. We just run, Skizz… Come on. How's your legs?" And louder, "Mumbo, how's that escape route?"

"… Impulse, it's raining. Skizz won't make it."

"Then we take the wall blocks and build a new ceiling all the way back."

"Uh, with BigB right behind us, dude? And the locals will hate us if we take from their art project and don't give back."

The phantom hybrid shudders, dropping his face to his hands. Mumbo watches his bony tail drag across the dirt floor. He lowers the pick. From this angle, Impulse's injuries look like butterflies on display. Blue soul energy soaks the back of his neck, shirt, and overalls. Some of those blows look to be from Carrie and her mace, though certain gashes mark him as a man who took the local flock captain in a fight. He oozes up and down his body, and more than one arrow's still stuck in his flesh. Even with the regeneration aura pulsing through the hub, that's got to hurt. And those won't seal with the arrows in them.

… Skizz has arrows jabbed up and down his body. They pepper every chink BigB and his clones could land. And every breath's a fight. It drags at him like he's got the hiccups. He flickers between solid color and bright, bold red.

"Impulse?" The word is soft when it leaves Mumbo's lips. For a moment, the loo lapses into silence, because honestly, Mumbo thought Skizz said it. But Impulse turns his head. He's got loose pixels smeared around his eyes, unstable energy leaking down his skin. He's waiting for a question. So Mumbo licks his lips and gives him one. "You're… you're the escort. What do we do? … I'm no good without my scythe. Seriously, that's- I'm just pants without it, honestly. It had Illager's Bane and Ambush on it. Um. Don't worry about the allays, though. I left them with a friend. She'll… she'll come through."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top - Work is now complete!]

[tardis--dreams]

You know what? I give up on this paper once and for all. I'm not even ashamed anymore

[wwillywonka]

.

[sureuncertainty]

helen distortion my beloved

[caramel-catss]

i played skyward sword for three hours straight just now. dizzy kirby emoji

[that-was-anticlimactic]

universe of constant spinning, every end a new beginning

“So, do you have an umbrella? That was like, your thing, right? At Claw?”

Ah—not again! He can’t keep zoning out while talking to people—especially his boss.

But… why was Reigen still here? It was late and he always got to work early. It wasn’t his job to stay and coddle his employees. “I—uh—no,” he stuttered, fingers twisting anxiously. “Mine was, uh, "is” broken, sir.”

‘Broken’ was a mild way to put it. More like it got destroyed.

[or, reigen gives serizawa an umbrella]

☔️2,651 words | serirei☔️

[bobmckenzie]

ok i don't know WHAT kind of brain fart I had but I've been thinking today marks 6 months since I started shipping with Bob... IT'S NOT SIX DLSKJFKSF IT'S EIGHT 😳😳😳 8 MONTHS!!!

so today i learned i don't know how to count but idec bc it's my 8 month bobiversarry lol ❤️

[dandeliicnsarchiived]

@hellgiven asked: [ car ] for tyler!! // nsfw prompts // accepting these at drabbles until stated otherwise!

prompt: [car] for our muses to have car sex while it rains

Tyler didn't mind when it rained, it was a nice balance of being warm all the time to having cool raindrops hit his skin. However, he was only summoned to be in it on behalf of Davina. Playing Uber was something that Tyler didn't mind doing since it meant that the other person was safe and he could ensure that a safe drive home was to happen.

However, something about this day was different than others. Maybe it was the fire inside him that was roaring, the music he was playing to match the mood outside or it was simply being in Davina's presence that had him all wound up either way, this was going to long a car ride that he had to endure. Part of him was happy that she was going to be safe, the part was fighting thoughts and desires that he didn't want to surface right then and there.

Once he arrived to her destination, Tyler quickly exited the car once he saw her soaking wet from the weather. " Why didn't you wait under cover?!" He asked with a concerned tone as he removed his jacket to cover her head from further rain and escorted her to his truck. Opening the door for her so she could climb inside. He made note to wipe down the seats later or at least heat them up a little so it wouldn't cause damages to the interior.

After Davina was safely inside, shutting the door behind her; Tyler went to the driver's side to climb in himself. Immediately turning on the heat and heated seats he took off to drive her home. As he drove down the highway, he listened to the explanation he gave. Hearing how she was practicing her spells and trying to ground herself with nature and feeling the elements helped some but she wasn't able to get a proper outcome. Tyler didn't know much about magic, he was only used as a tool for it when Victoria needed a fire element for her own spells. The perks of being a walking element had its advantages and he was always happy to help it meant that his abilities could be used for good instead of being lethal or harmful to whatever surrounded him.

As the two conversed within the truck, Tyler made glances at Davina. Taking note of her clothing and how it stuck to her skin, her being a mess from the rain and wind. He notices the tattoo of the crescent moon on her inner wrist before returning his eyes back to the road. Attempting to push those lingering intimate thoughts to the back burner, Tyler wanted to give her his full attention so in started a conversation asking what she was trying to practice and improve on. He listened to her rants and rambles and responded to some giving his input on the situation, explaining what he did know and always asking for corrections if he was wrong. His knowledge with witches was limited but he contributed the best way he could telling stories of Victoria and the few witches that came to his bar and shared their experience.

However, this conversation was different on his end. While paying attention to her to the best of his ability, he felt as if he wasn't getting anything out of it since he was driving and not actually looking at her. Tyler always comprehended better while making eye contact and reading body language so he made the choice to stop driving and pull off to the side. They were maybe just a few miles from the exit he needed to take to take her home. Once the truck was in park and the hazards were on, he shifted to face her and they continued their discussion about magic.

Taking in her image, he found himself smiling and nodding, completely captivated by how passionate she was about her craft. The way she put so much of her heart into magic and how she wanted to branch into the darker arts due to her family lineage and the coven she came from. He admired how strong she was, and how motivated. Leaning in closer to her, using his center console as support. Tyler found himself staring at her lips and back into her eyes, Has she always been this beautiful? Tyler thought to himself, completely ignoring what she saying before he reached up to tuck hair behind her ear. It was a gentle movement before he parted his lips to speak softly, "I'm sorry, D. I'm not listening. " He admitted softly before pulling her in for a kiss before she could reply to him.

The two shared a passionate kiss; Tyler's hands tangled in her hair as they moved in sync. He wanted more of her, he needed more of her. Having instinct completely take over, he parted from her leaving a little breathless as he did so. "C'mere." He whispered before reaching for her to grab her gently and relocate her from the passenger seat to his lap. Holding onto her waist with one hand and using the other to adjust the seat back to where he was reclined, he went back to kissing her. Pecking her lips and moving to her neck to place gentle kisses and little bites in between. Tyler loved hearing the sound of her little moans and groans, he loved how she held onto him, slowly rocking her hips against him. Surely she could feel how hard he was under his jeans, so he acted accordingly. Adjusting himself to take off his jeans slightly and reveal his boxers he felt that was good enough for now until they mutually agreed to move on.

Going back to the kissing and biting, Tyler could feel her movements as she began to rock more aggressively. Holding onto her hips, reaching around to cup her butt, he gave a squeeze. However, he felt that he wasn't getting enough of her so he decided to move his hands under her dress. Feeling her skin, he took note of how soaked her underwear was, most likely from rain; Tyler opened his mouth to speak softly as he pulled away from their kissing. His chest rising and falling from being out of breath, he attempted to get some words out. "Do you mind if I take these off? I have a feeling they aren't comfortable." Tyler managed to whisper softly awaiting her answer, once she gave the okay he proceeded to remove her underwear, taking the time to feel her skin as he did so. Making the necessary and slightly awkward movements, the two couldn't help but giggle and laugh slightly as they worked their way around stripping clothes off. Since Davina allowed him to remove her panties, the least he could do was allow her to remove whatever clothing she wanted.

Tossing his jacket, shirt, her panties and moving his boxers down to expose himself, out of the two, he was the one that was practically naked while he urged her to keep her dress on. There was the paranoia that if cars did pass they'd see Davina and despite his tinted windows and the weather it still lingered in his mind. Tyler didn't want this moment to be ruined it, it was to perfect. The way the rain hit the window, the music he picked softly playing in the back. How Davina looked hot and bothered just by simply kissing. In his mind, it was like a movie that would he would replay in his mind over and over again.

Grabbing a handful of Davina's hair, he gently moved her head to expose her neck once more. Leaning in to place more gentle kisses, taking in her sent, the smell of her perfume mixed with the sweat that was forming from their moments and probably him since he naturally radiated heat. The steam began to form from his skin, hopefully the witch didn't mind and from what he gathered, she didn't. Her focus was on him, like his was on her. All he wanted out of this was to make Davina feel good, truth be told, he got off on it.

Seeing her reactions, hearing her moans, Tyler wanted to earn more. Deciding the intuitive to reposition her, he moved her in a way so her back was pressing into his check, her legs slightly spread so he could have access to tease her from both above and below. Taking the time to feel up her thighs, giving squeezes here and there. It was rare the two spent time like this together. Sex was something Tyler had done too much of in the past, he didn't care for his partners like he should. However this time, he wanted the experience to be different. Tyler wanted to take the time express how much she meant to him.

Feeling her skin, raising her arms to plant kisses as he held onto her. Despite being in a truck, he wanted to do his best by her. Once he was done giving her kisses and little bites on her skin, his hand went between her thighs. Whispering how wet she became, not only from rain but the actions he was performing. Knowing that he was doing good and her body was responding accordingly.

As he played and teased, taking the time to do different motions to earn different reactions. He heard a faint whisper of her asking for more, that she wanted him inside her. The request alone was enough to make him flustered and he was thankful that she wasn't able to see to see his face. Even though he's done this dance before, knowing and learning the ins and outs of a woman, it never fails to catch him off guard.

Adjusting himself and Davina in his lap to a proper position for entry, he groaned ever so slightly at the feeling of her once he began teasing her opening. It was wet and warm, a perfect opportunity to slide in with ease. Upon entry he didn't move much, he let her adjust to his size. Placing more kisses on her cheek and neck, Whispering, " I won't move until you're ready. " softly into her ear. Once Davina gave her approval that he could move, he began thrusting into her at a slow place. Taking his time to enjoy the new sensation he was experiencing.

Slowly rocking in a back and forth motion, it didn't take long until the movements picked up in pace. The moans and groans got louder, the sweat on their skin began to form but quickly began to disappear due to the heat that Tyler was producing. The downside to having sex for Tyler was that he had harder time control his body temperature, it was easy to caught up in moment with partners and it was harder time with Davina. Slowly down his pace a bit he offered to switch positions and asked if she wanted to take control as well.

It took a few moments, jokes here and there about how out of all places to have sex, a truck was the most inconvenient but the thrill of being caught was exciting. Once Davina adjusted once again to be facing him, Tyler reached up to brush hair out of her face and pulled her in to place a kiss on her lips. With the kiss they shared, Davina ever so softly moaned into his mouth as she guided Tyler inside her once again.

Groaning from the feeling of euphoria, Tyler held onto Davina tighter, almost pulling down a little fast causing her to gasp from the sudden feeling. A few curse words shortly followed by the mention of his size only caused a small smirk to form on his features. Trying to catch his breath, he apologized for the sudden movement only to hear that it was okay and they could keep going.

The eldest Atlas prided himself on having communication during intimate acts, and when he reacted in ways that would shock his partner, he always did apologize. The last thing he wanted was to make his partners uncomfortable or cause them pain without their official consent.

As the two adjusted to each other's bodies once more, the pace was just like the last. Hips moving in sync developing a type of steady candace, the sound of care skin hitting each other with each thrust that was given; the sounds of matched moans along with heavy breathing that filled the truck overshadowing the music that played in the background. Davina holding onto Tyler as she moved bounced up and down to make sure all the angles were hit to her liking. Tyler's arms wrapped around her, his fingers holding onto the fabric of her dress to the point his own dull nails scratched her skin adding a hint of pain to her pleasure.

More heated kisses were exchanged between the two, from the lips to the jawline to necks, making sure that they knew they belonged to one another in this very moment. Tyler was captivated by her body movements and how she was able to match his rhythm and speed. Occasionally she leaned back and as she did so, Tyler did his best to give her the support that she needed. Without much communication, they were able to tell what the other was doing based off of moans and groans. There wasn't a need to say, to the left, slow down, speed up they simply responded with body language and went from there.

Once Tyler felt that he was getting close to the finish, he put the thought on the back burner since he wanted to make sure that Davina would finish before him, or at the very least they could finish together. Removing one hand from her hips, he redirect it to her lower half. Manipulating and teasing her clitoris earning another gasp from her lips. The sound of pleads to keep up with what he was doing, and the sound of his name being sung to him only motivated him to keep up the motions. Once he heard the phrase I'm about to cum, Tyler began picking this up at a much faster pace, still using one hand to manipulate her, the other to hold onto her and his hips to thrust he was proud to see what happened next.

Davina's body shook somewhat from the intense feeling that washed over her, her hips slowly moving riding out the orgasm that they both shared together. There breathing changing from heavy to a slow and controlled. The witch sunk into Tyler's chest as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her and placing a kiss on her forehead. There was a moment of silence between the two before Tyler spoke to break that silence. "So how about I take ya home now?"

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Fun fact: The fairy tale flash fiction has now passed 4,000 words.

[footofananimal]

Was thinking about that tennis racket dragon wings post again, and got curious at how my wing game was going. Since I'm very much usually a form over function designer, I expected a lot of non-flight capable beasts but honestly???? It's not bad.

Most of these beasts would actually be able to fly. I'm honestly surprised, all things considered.

Also yes this is just an excuse to show you all the "dragons" I've drawn. Yes some of them very much are not dragons. But it's fine.

Only one of these was drawn to look very specifically like they COULD NOT fly at all so I specifically went with the poorly connected wings!

Also because I forgot him until right now an honorary Xerxes

But he's not even an anthro. I just straight up drew my FR dragon. But I love him so it's fine.

[avocado-frog]

dylan is a "would you still love me if i was a worm" character by the way

[allisonreader]

Laundry is done for now. We'll see if any writing actually gets done.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[sureuncertainty]

hopefully it's just tonight but i haven't written at all in the last couple of days and i tried again tonight and it didn't work AGAIN i just can't get myself to write idk sometimes i really feel like the sequel to silence agenda is literally never ever going to actually get written and there's no point in even trying

[bluemoon-fever]

needy

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.

word count: 2.45k

warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI

a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3

not edited.

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.

A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.

He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.

On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”

“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.

Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”

And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?

Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir. 

God, he wanted needed you so bad.

“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.

You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.

God, you needed him so bad.

As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.

“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.

“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”

“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”

“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.” 

Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.

“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”

You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.

You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.

“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.

“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”

“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”

“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…

He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.

Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.

“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”

Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.

His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.

Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.

Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”

You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.

“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.

He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.

“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely. 

“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”

Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.

He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases. 

Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.

“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.