#adjustable headrest chair

[thepearl256]

How to Prevent Back Pain and Eye Strain at Work: A Guide to the Perfect Office Setup

If you spend hours at a desk daily, chances are you’ve felt the effects: a nagging ache in your back, tired eyes, or even general fatigue. But what if your seating arrangement is the culprit? The good news is that with the right ergonomic setup, you can work comfortably while protecting your health. One standout product that can help is the Ergonomic Office Chair with Rocking Function,…

[oizysian]

29 // Sex toys with clothes on // Hungry?

Summary: Wanda tortures Y/N.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: teasing, vibrators, drawn out orgasms

Word count: 629

Kinktober masterlist

“Is something the matter, Y/N?” Natasha asked and I shook my head quickly, shifting slightly in my seat.

“No.” I looked over at Wanda and she smiled widely at me. “Nothing.”

I could barely get those two words out as the toy inside me vibrated. It was so powerful I could’ve sworn my teeth were chattering from the vibrations. I tried to play it cool as Wanda adjusted it from the seat across from me, crossing her legs and smiling brightly as she conversed with Natasha and her brother, Pietro.

They were discussing our new apartment and what we were going to fill it with - children or dogs. But, at this moment, I couldn’t think about anything else but getting off.

I took a deep breath and shifted positions again, trying my best to ignore the delicious vibrations and focus on the conversation, but it was impossible, as Wanda planned this. The vibe was on its highest setting, and occasionally she’d play with it, drawing shapes on her phone screen, making me feel all the different vibrations.

“I think -” I cleared my throat after my voice cracked, standing from the chair. “I think it’s about time we went home.”

Natasha and Pietro looked at me funny before looking at Wanda and nodding in agreement. It was getting late and it was about time we left the compound.

Wanda said her goodbyes and I choked out mine. She took my hand and led me to the car, where I got in and almost lost my mind.

“Wanda,” I moaned, my voice desperate. “You need to let me cum.”

“I need to?” She questioned teasingly as she put on her seatbelt, getting ready to drive.

“Yes! You’ve been teasing me all night!” I sniffled softly, chest heaving, legs shaking. “It hurts.”

“Does it?”

“I’m so close, please.”

Instead of turning on the car, she pulled out her phone, bringing the vibrations down to almost nothing, and I let out a frustrated groan.

“You’ll cum when I say you’ll cum.”

“Fuck.” I breathed, resting my head back against the headrest and almost crying in frustration.

She smiled and slipped her phone back into her pocket, starting up the car. As she drove, I sat in soaked pants and panties, squeezing my legs together to try and get off myself. It was no use, though. I needed her to do it for me.

She stopped at a light and for a brief second I thought she was going to take pity on me, but she turned to me and spoke instead.

“Are you hungry? I could go for a burger.”

“No.” I whined, writhing in my seat. “I wanna cum.”

She gave me a look before the light changed and she started driving again. I was losing my mind.

“If I let you cum now,” my ears perked up. “I get to play with you for however long I want later. No complaining.”

“Fine, yes, please, just let me cum.”

She smiled and at the next stop she pulled out her phone and brought the vibrations up all the way.

“Oh, fuck!” I cried, grabbing onto any part of the car I could get my hands on.

My legs shook as I got closer and closer to release. I wasn’t sure if she was really going to let me cum so I was doing my best to cum as quickly as possible so she couldn’t change her mind.

I raised my hips as they rolled against nothing, bucking and humping the air as I came.

Her knuckles were white as she held onto the steering wheel, her eyes glued to the road, but I knew she was paying attention to me.

“Tonight,” she said, her voice deep with desire. “You’re all mine.”

[rileyslibrary]

A/N: Based on @salbeitraeume’s comment and that anon’s story with the coolest mom. Thank you both 💕

———————————————————————

It all started with an apple—a simple snack that you chose to enjoy under the July’s sun.

Yes, it was without your lieutenant’s permission, but you assumed he forgot to excuse you from your duties, so you decided to take that break anyway. You worked hard today, shovelling dirt, piling sandbags, and creating the perfect setting for your next field exercise. You deserved that damn apple.

However, you made two mistakes: The first one was that you decided to take the matter into your own hands without asking or reminding him that breaks are vital under such heat. Your second mistake was standing in plain sight, indulging in your snack while making yourself an easy target for the lieutenant.

He gave you the lecture of your lifetime and then some more. Rhetorical questions poured out of his mouth, such as “You think you can defy me like that?” and “Would you like me to wave a palm branch in your face while I feed you grapes?”

He made you stand on the tractor’s roof where everyone could witness your shame as a punishment. Whenever someone dared to ask why you were up there, he ordered you to stand in attention and scream at the top of your lungs:

“MY DISTORTED SENSE OF SELF-IMPORTANCE PREVAILS OVER TEAMWORK, SO I DECIDED TO TAKE A BREAK, WITHOUT THE LIEUTENANT’S PERMISSION, AND EAT MY SNACKY WHILE MY FELLOW COMRADES KEPT BUSTING THEIR ASSES OFF IN THE HEAT.”

But the lieutenant made two other mistakes of his own: The first one was that he forgot to give you and the rest of the team a break, making you work non-stop under the heat. The second mistake was that he chose one of the hottest hours to deliver your punishment.

Exhaustion was the first sign, but you brushed it off since you were already tired. Soon enough, you could feel your pulse in your throat, and your ears began to ring. You looked at the ground, and the world started spinning.

Everything was a blur after that: the lieutenant rushing towards you, ordering others to give you space, a cooling sensation against your skin, and the medic murmuring the words “heat exhaustion.”

Heat exhaustion, huh? No shit.

Blinking your eyes, you find yourself in a sterile room, lying on a bed with an IV in your arm and a cold pack wrapped in cloth at the back of your neck.

You attempt to sit up, but a voice from your left cautions you.

“Don’t,” it says softly, “You should lie down.”

You turn your head towards the voice; it’s the lieutenant. He’s sitting with his elbows on his thighs, resting his chin in his hands. He stands up and comes closer, but you flinch and back away.

He outstretches his arms to show you he means no harm. He touches the cold pack under your neck, then gently cradles your head, removing it from its position. He leaves the room and returns moments later with a fresh one. He wraps it in a dry cloth, lifts your head, and places it beneath your neck again. He joins you on the bed.

You can see him struggling to find the right words. Each time he opens his mouth, he hesitates and closes it again. Finally, he stands and walks to his chair, picking up something before returning to your side.

It’s an apple.

“You were eating an apple, weren’t you?” He asks.

You nod.

He retracts a folding knife from his pocket and begins to peel it.

“Lt.,” you say, “I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’re sorry?” He asks, continuing to peel the apple, “No, I’m the one who should apologise to you.”

You look at him with half-lidded eyes. He continues speaking.

“I forgot to give you a break during a heatwave, and then I made things worse,” he confesses, cutting a piece of the apple. “I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

You look at him, then at the apple. “W-well, if it gives you any comfort, I forgive you, sir,” you murmur.

He extends a piece of apple towards you. “Here,” he says, “eat this.”

You accept his offer and watch him as he adjusts your headrest to a comfortable position. He walks towards the fan.

“Is the air okay?” He asks, “Should I move the fan, or are you comfortable?”

“It’s fine, sir,” you reply with a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

He picks up a water bottle from the cabinet and opens it up. Waiting for you to finish the piece of apple, he guides the bottle to your mouth and advises you to take small sips. His other hand supports your chin, ensuring it doesn’t spill on you.

You remember your earlier conversation, and a chuckle escapes your lips mid-drinking. You begin to cough, almost choking, and he pats your back.

“W-wait, Lt., wait,” you plead, “I have to tell you something.”

He stops and looks at you, confused.

“Remember when you were scolding me?” You ask.

“I do, soldier, and I’m not proud of it.”

“No, no, that’s not it,” you reply. “Remember when you asked me if I would like you to wave a palm branch in my face while you feed me grapes?”

He signs and looks at the peeled apple, then at the fan. He lets out a huff and shakes his head.

“Yes,” he says, struggling to suppress his laughter, “yes, I do.”

———————————————————————

[wileys-russo]

I know the beds in the village are supposed to be “anti sex” without technically being anti sex lol. I feel like jenni or misa (your choice who to write for) on the high of the Olympics would absolutely make it their mission to prove they’re not sex proof beds only to actually break them. Would love a little blurb about that if you have time 💞💞

cardboard beds II j.hermoso (18+)

"did you know-" you sighed as your airpod was suddenly tugged out and someone slid into the once vacant seat beside you on the bus, turning to look at the girl with a raised eyebrow.

"what happened to 'mi amor i can see you are tired, i will let you rest and go annoy someone else'." you mocked, your girlfriend gasping dramatically and holding your airpod out of reach as you tried to take it back.

"those are not my words, i do not know who has been calling you mi amor other than me...but if i find them, there will be trouble." jenni tutted with a shake of her head, allowing you to snatch your airpod back from where it was clasped between her slender tattooed fingers with a roll of your eyes.

"de todas formas. back to what i was saying-" your girlfriend made herself comfortable beside you, feet kicking up onto the headrest of the chair in front of you as patri turned around and pushed them off with a glare.

maturely jenni stuck her tongue out at the younger girl, one arm slipping over the back of your chair as she shuffled even closer to you. ”angry eyebrows.” your girlfriend teased, licking her thumb and smoothing them out as you made a noise of disgust and slapped her hand away.

no longer alone you gave up on any chance of a power nap after training, still struggling slightly to adjust to the routine of the tournament a couple of days in. you snapped your airpods into their case and zipped them back into your bag, flicking your girlfriends ear as she chattered away to ona in the row across from you

"you were saying?" you sighed cocking an eyebrow at the taller girl who grinned, sloppily kissing your cheek as you pulled a face and pushed her away, unsure how she never seemed to tire or have an off switch despite training hard in the french sun for the last three hours.

"sí as i was saying, oh wait actually-" she sat up a little straighter, eyes roaming the bus clearly looking for someone as the tiny sliver of patience you had left for her games started to dwindle even further.

"jenni! oh dios mio the point, find it." you groaned, elbowing her as she grunted but settled back into her seat. "vale. so our beds, cardboard sí?" your girlfriend asked rhetorically as you hummed tiredly.

"if that is all you suddenly realized after two days-" you started with a shake of your head as she dismissed you with a wave. "no no, let me finish." the girl shushed you as you sighed but nodded for her to go on.

"well-you know you look so pretty today cari, being an olympian looks good on you." jenni grinned interrupting herself, pointer finger poking your nose as you stared back unimpressed.

but knowing her well enough you could see she was clearly trying to bait you into some sort of reaction for her own amusement by testing your patience, a reaction which you wouldn't be giving her.

"vale the cardboard beds. so laia was speaking to one of the staff members who overheard someone from the argentina team speaking to one of the chefs say that they were supposed to be anti sex. introduced in the last games because everyone was found to be having sex in the village!" your girlfriend beamed, clearly proud of her little discovery as again you only hummed.

"aparentemente they will break and collapse if there is more than one person on them." jenni added on, wiggling her eyebrows as her face nearly split in two from the cheshire like grin which enveloped it.

"muy bonito. is that it?" you questioned, shifting slightly in your seat and closing your eyes hearing your girlfriend scoff beside you. "qué? you do not find that interesting?" jenni asked in disbelief as you shrugged, not particularly as moved by her discovery as she was.

"no realmente. a bed is a bed, a rumor is a rumor, rules are rules." you shrugged yet again, hissing as your girlfriends fingers darted beneath the fabric of your training top to pinch your sides, eyes flying open.

though before you could open your mouth to tell her off her lips pressed quickly but sweetly against your own, words dying out as she smiled charmingly and pushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “te quiero.” she grinned, bright green eyes locked with yours.

"váyase." you shoved her in response, scooting as close to the window as you could get and hearing the midfielder chuckle beside you. "vamos princesa, do you not feel curious about this? not even un poquito?" the girl asked with a pout shuffling closer to you again, squishing her thumb and forefinger together to leave the tiniest of gaps.

"no bebé, en absoluto." you smiled truthfully, hand slapping gently against her cheek. "so you will not eh...test this, with me?" jenni's chin rested on your shoulder and you pushed her head away as her lips grazed beneath your ear.

"will i test if the cardboard beds break by having sex with you, before the tournament even begins?" you asked quietly as you leaned in closer to her, well aware this was anything but a private space for this sort of conversation as your girlfriend nodded gleefully.

"mm....no." you breathed out against her lips, pulling right back and leaning your body against the wall of the bus, eyes closing again. "amor!" jenni scoffed, clearly not impressed with your answer as the corners of your mouth tugged into a smile and you shooed at her with your hands.

"váyase hermoso."

though jenni forever a persistent woman you weren't surprised when this wasn't the last you heard about her little cardboard bed theory, exiting the bathroom after a shower and sighing seeing the small group gathered in your bedroom.

"qué estáis haciendo?" you asked sceptically, flicking your head forward and scraping your damp hair into a loose bun, not bothered to dry it before dinner.

"science!" misa announced happily with a grin, her laia and jenni all sat bouncing up and down on laia's bed across from yours. "you know amiga if you let them break your bed, you have to go talk to the staff about a new one, not them." you warned laia, the younger girl faltering for a moment, pausing to think on your words.

"ignore her codi, ella es una party pooper." your girlfriend teased as you rolled your eyes and took a seat on your own bed, watching the three of them goof around clearly trying to see if the rumours about the beds breaking were true.

"see amor! very strong cardboard." jenni laughed as her, misa and codi stood and jumped around on the bed now which somehow didn't crumple beneath their weight, misa swearing as laia tackled her and she hit the mattress with a thump and a groan. "didn't break!" your girlfriend cheered, letting out a war cry and diving on top of the other two.

"idiotas." you mumbled, slipping into your shoes ready to head down to dinner. then it went suspiciously quiet and you looked up, jolting at the three sets of eyes that stared back at you, with a look you knew too well.

"no no no-" you started, trying to get up and make a break for it but you weren't fast enough. "consíguela!" your girlfriend yelled, all three of them launching at you as you groaned beneath them the weight of them jumping on top of you.

"pendejos! get off of me." you grunted, managing to get an arm free and shoving laia who was teetering on top of the pile, sending her tumbling to the ground with a yelp.

misa unable to control her laughter rolled off next, landing on top of laia who groaned through her giggles, your girlfriend still on top of you with a grin.

"you are a twelve year old boy in a grown womans body jennifer!" you shoved her next as the midfielder rolled off the bed and onto the others, all three of them collapsing into a fit of giggles as you rolled your eyes and shot to your feet.

"mi amor venga it was a joke!" the taller girl laughed from the ground as you shot her a dirty look, the other two oohing at the site as jenni wrangled misa into a headlock and laia cheered them on and you left them to it, headed down for dinner.

~

as much as her immaturity could be infuriating at times, you'd been in love with jenni for long enough not to let her jokes or attempts to push your buttons really get to you.

so a few hours later that night everything was fine again, your girlfriend apologizing and sticking to your side being sweet all throughout dinner which meant you couldn't stay annoyed with her for long, ignoring the teasings from your friends about how whipped you were for one another.

"campeóna!" the tattooed midfielder hollered loudly as cata swore and thumped the table tennis paddle down onto the table and storming off, jenni undefeated so far the entire evening.

"alexia?" jenni offered it up with a grin, the blonde next to you chuckling but shaking her head firmly. “ni hablar” 

"oh vamos! no one will challenge the campeóna?" jenni announced, looking around the rec room as a few girls rolled their eyes, most already bested by the older girl at the game she was frighteningly good at.

"cari?" her attention turned to you next, eyebrows wiggling as a few of the younger girls cheered your name, alexia nudging you with an encouraging nod as your girlfriend did a little dance making you smile.

"no, you remain campeóna. but why don't you let someone else have a turn amor." you hinted, jenni pausing for a moment before giving in, leaving both paddles on the table as some of the younger girls all scrambled for them.

"movie?" jenni asked, taking alexia's space beside you as your captain headed off on a phone call, though you saw the slight smile in your girlfriends face and chuckled knowing what she really meant.

"sí claro, a movie."

~

"jenni, cariño we can't." you laughed, knocking away your girlfriends hands where they toyed with the waistband of your shorts, your shirt already removed and tossed over her shoulder at least twenty minutes ago.

you'd returned to the room she shared with misa when you left, a movie the last thing on either of your minds as jenni wasted no time pulling you down onto her bed, soft admissions of adoration shared among tender kisses.

"but princesa we can!" jenni argued with a grin, pointer finger trailing shapes around your hips, snapping the waistband of your shorts with a wink.

"no we can't! did you forget we are not sharing a room?" you smiled in amusement, pushing her hands away again and intertwining your fingers, your foreheads pressed together as you lay side by side on the bed.

"you do not need to worry about misa mi amor, prometo." jenni assured with a sly smile as you gave her a curious look and then it clicked.

"did you tell her not to come in because you want to have sex? jenni!" you gasped in realization, shooting up and narrowing your eyes at her as she merely smiled, folding her arms behind her head.

"qué? you do not want to?" your girlfriend questioned, eyes drinking in your half naked form with a smirk as you scoffed. though before you could speak, she continued on.

"mi vida we have had sex as liga f winners, champions league winners, world cup champions-" she sat up and pushed you back down, hovering over you with a wicked smile.

"-now how about as olympians?"

~

"jesucristo." you panted, head thumping against the pillow as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to catch your breath, your girlfriends lips kissing softly at your shoulder letting you know she was still there.

"see cari? very strong cardboard." jenni teased, bright green eyes baring down on you with a cheeky grin as you halfheartedly smacked her chest, leaning up to kiss her properly.

"do you want to stop?" jenni asked pulling away, serious for a moment as her hands wrapped around your bare back and her brow creased.

"should we see how strong these beds really are amor? since you are so confident it will not break." you smiled suggestively, gently pulling her hands off and standing, making your way to her suitcase.

your girlfriend watched you curiously though seeing which pocket you unzipped her rosy pink lips curved into a grin of delight, sitting up and catching the bag as you tossed it to her, flipping your hair to one side of your head with a grin that matched hers perfectly.

"no." your hands fell to her shoulders, pushing her back slightly as you returned to the bed and she stood, stepping into the harness as you made yourself comfortable.

"dios mío." your girlfriend groaned as you got on all fours and she moved behind you, flinching slightly as her calloused hands found home in the dip of your back, fingers tracing the tattoos which littered down your spine.

you knew this was her favorite position, your back was one of the only places you had tattoos and your girlfriend made no move to hide how it made her feel to watch the taunt muscles clench and writh as she pounded into you.

which was exactly her plan now and you knew it.

you'd felt her holding back just a little before, as much as she could give it to you fast and rough jenni was also the most attentive lover and never did anything without your conventional say so.

so by putting yourself in this position, you were giving her all the green light she needed and jenni was going to go for gold.

“you look so pretty like this cari, arched out and ready.” jenni purred, her bare chest pressed against your back as her lips trailed open mouthed kissers across your shoulder blades.

your breath caught as you felt the cold silicone knock the back of your thigh, your girlfriends breath hot against your skin as she chuckled and shuffled back up to be behind you on her knees.

you smiled yourself feeling her hand grab the back of your neck, pushing you down even further, hearing her let out a grunt at the way you arched further, ass up in the air.

“mi niña buena.” jenni praised, a slap echoing around the empty room as her hand collected the flesh of your ass, tattooed fingers grabbing your hips and adjusting you a little.

“listo?” her tone shifted for a second, lining up the strap against you as you shivered ever so slightly, nodding in confirmation. “palabras por favor nena.” jenni ordered more firmly, one hand letting go of your hips to smack against your ass again.

“sí, lista.” you confirmed, a low moan leaving your lips as the head of the strap slid in, your forehead pressing into the pillow before you turned your head to the side.

having already made you come twice it didn’t take much for the strap to slide properly inside you, jenni grunting as she bottomed out and you moaned her name.

“faster!” your eyes rolled back as your girlfriend pushed the strap in and out of you at a tortuously slow pace, chuckling at your demand but speeding up her thrusts none the less.

“dios mío jenni!” you moaned arching even further as one of her hands grabbed a handful of your hair, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as she pounded into you, the slap of her bare skin against yours filling the room.

you let out an animalistic groan as tattooed fingers threaded through your hair and tugged, your chin to the sky as your breasts pressed into the slightly firm mattress beneath you.

“now caríno just imagine we do this again-“ jenni grunted, slowing down her pace for a moment as you whined and she pulled sharply at your hair in a silent warning.

“-only this time you can hear my hips hitting yours, the pretty little noises you make as you squirm and arch that perfect ass up for me princesa-“ you gasped as without warning she sped up again, letting out a moan of her own at the way you clenched yourself around the thick cock, your back muscles rippling beneath the tattoos wound down your spine.

“-and this time you can hear the gold medals we’ll be wearing mi amor, clinking and slapping against our skin. olympic campeónas!” you could hear the grin in her voice as you neared the edge, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets beneath you.

jenni let go of your hair and instead moved both hands now to grip your shoulders, her front pressed to your back as she bottomed herself out over and over into you.

your head melted at the firm grunts which left her lips each time she thrusted, nails creating crescent moon dents into the tanned skin of your shoulders as her teeth nipped at your neck sending you into overdrive.

“mierda jenni, close!” you choked out, so caught up in your pleasure and the feeling of your impending orgasm just starting to peak, you failed to hear a crack which didn’t belong to either of you.

“good girl.” the midfielder grunted, accent thick with the english leaving her lips as she pounded into you even faster and you could have sworn you saw god as white overtook your vision, slipping and sliding and teetering before you fell off the edge and all but screamed her name.

but then right as the wave of white hot pleasure hit you and the coil in your stomach snapped, jenni pushed herself to have one foot planted on the bed, intending to ride you right through this orgasm and into another as fast as she could.

but it would seem the universe had other plans as suddenly the bed cracked and both of you let out a series of new noises, the strap sliding out of you as both you and your girlfriend collapsed on top of one another.

“jesus christ jenni did we just-“ you panted, still trying to recover as your girlfriend awkwardly shifted, the strap pressed into your back as the bed had concaved beneath you both.

“sí…we broke it.” she made no move to try and hide the disbelief in her tone, a few more seconds of awkward shuffling before you’d both managed to roll off and onto the floor, jenni sat up as you laid down still catching your breath.

“don’t! don’t you say anything right now.” you sharply warned as the midfielders lips curved into a smirk and she glanced down at you, no doubt some sort of cocky fratboy esque remark on the tip of her tongue.

collecting your thoughts you quickly slipped your shirt over your head, jenni standing and shimmying herself out of the harness as the strap hit the floor with a gentle thump and you winced at the feeling of pulling your underwear back on without a shower first.

“que? dónde vas?” your girlfriend questioned, looking away from where she stood grinning down at the broken bed hearing you move behind her, slipping on your shoes.

“for a shower.” you patted her chest, kissing her and pulling away much faster than she’d like as she caught your wrist. “i have one of those mi amor, good water pressure too.” jenni smirked, a chuckle leaving you in response.

“i don’t know how long you told your roomie to stay away caríno but i’m not getting caught with this and this.” you pointed first to the broken squished bed and than to your girlfriend whose eyebrows furrowed.

“i get picked on enough.” you winked, pecking her lips again and turning to leave as jenni scrambled to slip her training top over her head. “sí by me! and i’m not going to tease you for this. mi vida i am very proud of this!” jenni grinned wolfishly making you roll your eyes.

“oh estoy seguro de que.” you chuckled, unlocking her bedroom door. “i will come with you tonight, codi will not mind.” jenni moved to grab her shoes as you let out a laugh.

“oh amor, you are so cute.” you pouted, poking her nose as she frowned and you pulled open her door, grinning at her and stepping out into the adjoined living room with a sigh.

“since you love to tell and share everything you do with your best friend, you can fill her in all about this and maybe the two of you can cuddle tonight while they find you a new bed.” you winked, jenni’s jaw dropping as you strode off and left her stood in her doorway, spinning around and blowing her a kiss.

“buenas noches bebé! have a nice night.”

[just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms]

Title: Unexpected View

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word count: 5,900 (genuinely not sure how that happened)

Warnings: none!

A/N: Inspired by a post on @hotchnerssmile blog, originally from @greg-montgomery As always, enjoy!

—-

“You’re staring again,” Emily whispered and nudged you.”

“What? Huh?” You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat on the plane. “Oh..come on..stop.” Emily had been picking on you for weeks about your crush on Hotch. You’d let it slip during a girls night and they wouldn’t let it go.

“Careful,” she teased. “Eventually he’s going to know. He can spot an unsub a mile away, but a woman getting lost in her thoughts staring at him? You’d need to straddle him to make him notice.”

You looked over to him, suddenly the idea of crossing the plane, pushing his papers away, and lowering yourself into his lap was the only thing you could think of.

“Oh I know that look,” JJ said as she walked to the table. “What’s the fantasy this time?”

“Straddling.” Emily laughed and looked down at her files. JJ joined the laughter and caught Reid’s attention.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” the three of you said in unison.

Emily was right, Hotch was pretty oblivious to women hitting on him. You’d seen it happen on cases a time or two. But in your case, you were grateful he never noticed.

On the flight home you sat alone on the couch, curled up under a blanket.

“Something on your mind?”

You jumped slightly as Hotch sat next to you, leaning back and letting his legs fall open slightly. It took everything in you to keep your eyes on his face and not wander.

“Um, nothing anymore,” you laughed. “We got our guy and don’t have another case right now. My brain has some room to finally relax. Sort of.”

You adjusted your position so you were sitting upright next to him. Hotch’s eyes studied your face. After a very long moment he seemed to snap out of his thoughts.

“Well,” he rested his hand on your thigh. “Find something to focus on that will hold your attention. Unfocused minds are a dangerous thing.”

Emily called over her shoulder, her chair facing the opposite direction, “she’ll be fine finding something to focus on.”

Hotch has turned his head to listen to her and thankfully missed the mortified look on your face. When he turned back to you, you gave him a weak smile. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He studied your face again before giving your thigh a slight squeeze before standing up.

About 20 minutes later JJ ended the phone call she was on. “Well, we got another one.”

“You’re joking,” said Morgan.

“Nope. Sorry. I’ll get things together and send it to your tablets.”

While you started to read the information, Hotch turned around, leaning over the side of his seat. “Going to join us, Y/N?”

You walked over, and rested your arm on the headrest of his seat. As you looked down at his lap, your heart started to race.

The thoughts of straddling him came rushing back, and you knew it wasn’t just the gathering of his pants that made it clear he was more than equipped to please a woman.

Garcia’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Hello my favorite crime fighters, your fabulous source of all knowledge has arrived.”

As Garcia began sharing what she had found, Hotch looked up at you over his shoulder. He took in the sight of you standing over him. Almost looking commanding and like you could make him give up control in a single glance. He adjusted his posture to lean forward slightly and cover his lap with his torso.

Emily and JJ were having a silent conversation with their eyes that screamed, “holy shit he just noticed her!”

Once the case had wrapped up, the team decided to split up and take a few days off. Reid went to Vegas with Rossi so he could see his mom and Rossi could hit the casino. Morgan went to the Bahamas to unwind in the sun. Emily and JJ decided on a girls trip to Hawaii. It was just you and Hotch for the plane ride home.

You chose the couch again so you could lay out. Hotch chose a chair facing you so he could occasionally look up and see you. He watched your face scrunch up as you scrolled through your phone and then quickly turned to raising your hand to your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“What’s got your focus?”

“Group chat with the girls. It’s…chaotic. I think that’s the best word for it.”

Hotch’s phone buzzed and saw a text from JJ. “Have fun focusing on the ride home ;)”

Hotch immediately looked to you to see if you had also received a message. Your face was expressionless so he texted JJ back.

“It’s hard to focus with such a captivating distraction…”

JJ was one of the few he confided in like this. You shifted in your seat as the group chat notifications came through.

Emily said, “girl do it!”

JJ added, “he wants it!”

Garcia was the last to respond, “mile high club honey, mile high club.”

Hotch’s phone went off again and this time you looked up to try and read his face. You could swear he was smiling, but trying to hide it, and he shifted in his seat.

“What’s got your focus?” You teased.

Hotch hesitated. “A new group chat. Something about ‘she wants you to do it.’ ‘She wants it.’ And ‘mile high honey.’ Any ideas on the references?”

Taking a deep breath you pushed your blanket to the side, set your phone down, and stood up, slowly crossing to him.

“From what I understand, by trusted sources,” you laughed. “We both want it. I should do it. And we should join a new club.”

His eyes got lost trailing up and down your body. When you were finally within arms length his eyes were focused on your chest. Using one finger you rested it under his chin, tilting his head up to look up at your face.

“Eyes on me…sir.” You paused and slid your hand to cradle his face. “I do like this angle, looking down at you.”

Without a word Hotch grabbed your hips, guiding you towards him to finally straddle him. As you let him bring you down onto his lap, his grip tightened on your hips and you could feel him between your legs.

“I knew it wasn’t just the fabric gathering.”

“These pants are already getting tight.”

“I should help you with that…plus I’ve always wanted to see what the view looks like with you standing over me.”

“Then drop to your knees.”

[crguang]

imagine in kafka violinist AU, reader works in a classical music record store or maybe even an instrument store and kafka decides to check out the place and they meet after so long ☹️☹️

[ ok, i'm imagining it. this has no right being over 3,5k words but i swear sev and i do think of cute scenarios with them... sometimes. ]

“now i am stuck between my anger and the blame that i can't face, memories are something even smoking weed does not replace.”

//

She’s sixteen again, boredly waiting around with the back of her head against your locker and a biology textbook nestled in her arms. People walk by her impatient gaze holding hands firmly, complaining loudly so everyone shares their annoyance, half-asleep as they drag their feet across the school hallways, and she watches them pass her by in silent judgment. They are all so uninteresting, so mundanely boring, and her eyes soon grow hazy following the shift in her thoughts while she waits. She remembers the movie tickets she still has to buy behind your back before Friday, then tells herself she will have time to take the bus to the movie theater on Wednesday after class when neither of you have music practice. She knows you dislike horror movies, but she finds them funny and she really wants to see this one. You’ll refuse when she asks you to come with, then begrudgingly take her hand when she produces the tickets from her backpack because you feel guilty about her already spending money on an outing for the two of you. She forgot the leather gloves she loves so much this morning, too hurried to make sure they were indeed put in her coat yesterday evening, so she’ll ask for one of yours before heading to the bus stop. Despite it only being minutes away, you’ll absentmindedly throw it her way. She smiles to herself. Her head lowers and she takes a quick glance at the thin watch around her wrist: ten minutes until the final bell. You’re late. With a disgruntled noise at the back of her throat, she straightens up and adjusts the strap over her shoulder. She won’t stain her perfect attendance record because you missed your 7 AM alarm, she’ll demand explanations at lunch and enjoy how you avert your eyes from hers in embarrassment. 

You’re not sitting at the back of classroom 311B waiting for her with your lunch on your lap, and her lips curve downward into a displeased pout. You didn’t show today, then. She wonders if you got sick between last Friday and now and makes a mental note to come knocking on your door after practice, if only to make sure you’re still alive even if you’re moaning in misery. She drops her backpack on a chair, plopping down at a nearby desk. Her AP Maths homework is laid out on the surface and she spends the free hour getting ahead in her classes within the quiet room, her cheek lazily resting on her palm.

As her literature teacher expands on the use of literary devices in creative writing, she thinks she might bring something to your house later. You were weird Friday and you’re missing practice, she’s now sure you’re feeling unwell. Peach gummies should do it, maybe, you’re so easy to please. You still have that shitty drawing the both of you made together when you were eight plastered beside the album posters on your wall. She hates looking at it every time she comes over but you threaten to have it framed, so she rolls her eyes and ignores the glaring reminder of her attachment staring down at her mockingly. 

Kafka blinks rapidly and her vision instantly focuses on the fading tendrils of cigarette smoke swimming in the air in front of her. The roll is secure between her index and middle fingers, pointing towards the open back window of her sleek black car. She regains her bearings. Her gaze darts to the driver’s seat where Blade’s head leans back on the headrest, eyes closed and arms crossed as he awaits new instructions. Her lips stretch into a small smile at her ridiculous train of thought and she looks outside the window, bringing the cigarette back to her mouth. There’s nothing to see, only passersby and concrete buildings, the front doors of multiple stores aligned on the narrow street. She takes a slow drag and allows the tobacco smoke to sit on her tongue before exhaling softly. She calls it reminiscing during a moment’s reprieve, but that would require the act to be voluntary and peaceful. It’s happening more frequently recently, her mind escapes her for a few minutes as she smokes and it’s starting to defeat the purpose of her cigarette breaks. This weight you hold, impossible to forget, is now slowing her down instead of feeding her ambitions, and anything that is not actively serving her is unnecessary. These memories are unnecessary. They’re pathetic, the same moments rotate through her mind in a broken loop she’s unable to pull the plug on, yet so undeniably haunting. The lack of control over her own thoughts irritates her to no end, her fingers are tight around her violin’s neck, her right arm stiff and reminiscent of the first time she held one in her hands. Another breath past her lips and she makes up her mind. 

Kafka puts out her cigarette on the ashtray resting on the cupholder to her left. She reaches for a pocket mirror in her handbag and flips it open, observing the makeup on her features. Her lipstick has faded a little in the middle of her bottom lip, so she reapplies it carefully. It’s an alluring peach color, her favorite. She smacks her lips and smiles to herself as if to make sure there isn’t a crack in her impenetrable facade, then puts the mirror back where it was initially and sprays her signature perfume over her pulse points. Kafka shakes her head, carefully brushing the dark magenta strands of her bangs away from her cheeks. She sits in the car for another moment, bracing herself, then unlocks the back door.

“Be back in a few, Bladie.” 

The driver doesn’t flinch when the car door shuts firmly behind her. Kafka lowers her prized sunglasses over her eyes. The car is parked a couple of minutes from the vintage record store she’s heard mentions of prior to traveling to Europe for performances, the street is better explored by foot and having her vehicle positioned directly in front of the store while she pondered things would have attracted unnecessary attention. She strolls down the decorated street and its colored asphalt the way she had almost three weeks ago, taking in the local shops and restaurants. Though it’s the middle of the day, only a little past one in the afternoon, the place isn’t as crowded as it usually is when she drives by (twice a week, for three weeks now.) She checks out the window apparel of two clothing stores then decides to step inside another time. She makes it to the record store a minute later and stands in front of the large window offering a glimpse of its interior, an index finger rhythmically drumming against her thigh. It’s empty, save for a blonde woman with a purple streak dyed into her hair that she’s seen work the floor before. Kafka checks the small watch around her wrist. It’s around the same time she passes by on her way to practice. She pushes the door open and steps inside.

A small bell rings out, announcing her presence, and the blonde worker doesn’t even look up from the thick textbook laid on the register counter. She scribbles away, brows furrowed in concentration. Kafka ignores her in turn. Her fingertips trail on packaged vinyls as she makes her way to the jazz section of the store, taking note of the relative stillness of the space with only low radio music to fill the silence. Her heeled boots clack along the ceramic floor with every leisure step. She’s waiting, pausing in front of a particular record and turning it over in her hands, aware of the other person in the room. She listens deeply while she pretends to read the cover and the perpetual easy smile on her lips widens infinitesimally at the sound of cardboard boxes getting ripped open in the backroom behind the register. She glances at her gloved hands. Steady as always.

“Holy fu—!” The blonde worker exclaims in surprise then quickly collects herself enough not to swear, clearing her throat once. 

Kafka’s disinterested gaze lands on her. She closes her textbook with a thud and leaves her post at the cash register to stand in front of her in record time, a gleam in her eyes and a grin on her face like she just won the lottery.

“Are you Kafka? The violinist?” Her voice lowers conspiratorially and she slightly leans forward in excitement. 

Kafka tilts her head to the side in amusement. “I might be.”

The woman takes a breath and claps her hands together over her lips in a praying gesture. “You have no idea how much you just brightened my day, Kafka. Can I have a picture, if it’s not too weird? My phone’s in the backroom, I can go get it. It’ll be super quick.”

She’s promptly walking away before the other can reply, a bounce in her step. Kafka follows her figure until it disappears past the door. She turns back to the record in her hands, then puts it back on the shelf to continue browsing the aisle. She’s not looking for anything in particular but if she does leave the store with a few more records under her arms, she won’t complain.

“They asked for me personally?”

“Yep! Go, go, I’ll take care of this batch.”

Her ears pick up on the conversation happening in the backroom, the voices getting louder as they approach the front of the store, and her next exhale is audible despite herself; yours still sounds the same. She reminds herself that she already smoked ten minutes ago.

“But who are they?”

“I don’t know, a customer. Just go!”

“Fine, jeez…”

Kafka lifts her gaze to the backroom door the moment it’s pushed open and instantly meets yours. She’s taken by the sudden sunlight in the room, all of it on your features; softly tracing the curve of your nose and the bow of your lips, resting over your cheek like a warm palm, sun rays kiss half of you and hold you close in a way she’s no longer sure she remembers the feel of. If she could tear her eyes away, she would notice the afternoon sun reflected on every surface of the store, a detail previously overlooked. There are bags under your eyes and something so small grows into a striking detail because this is her first time seeing them on you.  Your hair is put away from your face today, different than it was last week when Blade drove past the place, every line and shadow is  presented for her viewing pleasure and she drinks them in during a suspended instant. You’re older. That fact shouldn’t surprise her, she feels ridiculous. Her hands are immobile in the air, two vinyls between them brought up for comparison, and her mouth unknowingly twitches downward, about a hundred words she refuses to say push each other to be the first out of her lips, but she keeps it tightly shut. Your eyes widen the next second— for someone who always closely keeps track of time, she doesn’t know how much has passed since your eyes first met— and Kafka’s lower to your bobbing throat. Your hand goes to your rapidly rising chest and you turn your back on her as if frightened. 

“S-Serval, are you sure you don’t need help?” The tremor in your sentence and your averted gaze pulls Kafka out of her thoughts. She almost rolls her eyes at your lame attempt to run from her. Again. 

“I’m sure! Everything’s good here!”

You lean forward and try to regain control over your breathing for a few seconds, shoulders tense, before you slowly turn on your heel to face her once more. Guilt. She recognizes it easily, it’s laced in the curve of your brows and your colored irises. You swallow another time, your hands limp at your sides, and look at her helplessly. Out of the kindness of her heart and against her petty wish for you to keep that haunted look on your face, Kafka helps you out. 

“…I’m hesitating between these.” She holds up the records in her hands.

You blink. It takes you another moment of silence to register her words, and when you do, you reluctantly begin to make your way to her. Your steps are short and slow like you’re walking to the gallows, Kafka can’t help the bitter amusement in her smile. She feels a strange sort of vindication from your behavior, her past hesitation now forgotten. She watches you get closer through the filter of her sunglasses. You stand next to her a polite distance away and glance at the vinyls she’s holding.

“…What are you looking for?” You avoid her gaze and take the records she hands you, instead reading over the album titles and songs. 

Kafka doesn’t look away from you. “Something… relaxing. Slow tempo, the kind you sway to.”

You put the records back on the shelf and reach for another, presenting it to her. “This musician’s good.”

“Mmm. You listened to it?”

“Not this album, but some of his other songs. His music always has the same theme to it, it might be the vibe you’re searching for.”

“What theme is that?”

She knows what it is, she already has a copy of that record at home. It’s a childish delight to witness your reluctance to answer, but she doesn’t care.

“Regret.”

Kafka lets the following pause stretch longer than necessary. She finally tears her eyes from your form to continue browsing the shelves, fingertips trailing over the numerous records neatly stacked one next to the other. She walks some steps away from you as she skims the artists’ names and tilts her head your way when you hold up a different album for her to decide on. She makes a show of pondering about it before asking for another option. She does this for a while, finds a reason to criticize every record you present to her and observes the rapidly deepening frown on your lips. It’s stupid, she thinks fleetingly, how easily you turn back into a child in her mind. You made that face whenever you missed a note in the middle of practice, too. You lifted your eyes in exasperation just like this after another one of her lame jokes, too. You often fiddled with the beads necklace on your collarbone back then as well. Kafka looks away. It's a silver dog tag now. 

“What about this one?” Your tone is slightly more clipped than it was five minutes ago. She ignores it. “It’s a collection of ballads–- older New Orleans swing, soulful, soft. I’d say it’s what you’d like to listen to based on all of your critiques. You’d sway to that, right?”

Kafka takes the record and carefully looks it over. It’s a good suggestion and most of the songs on there are so far personally unheard of, on any other day she actually would have bought it. She puts it back on the shelf where you found it, then faces you.

“Maybe a decade ago. I might be in the mood for something more Romantic, actually.”

You pause, a little taken aback. Your thumb and index fingers take hold of the tag around your neck. “Uh… okay. I’d consider those ballads romantic, though.”

Kafka chuckles quietly. “The era.”

“…Right.” You turn away from her in embarrassment. “That’s another section, then.”

“Lead the way.”

Since she’s the only customer in the store at present, you can’t escape from repeating the same frustrating pattern as before: you suggest a record, it is “not quite what Kafka is looking for”, and she follows that comment with passive aggressivity so subtle that you would have been fooled by her harmless smile if you didn’t already know what she was referring to. Kafka can see your growing exasperation but you have different tells now, it’s all in the purse of your lips and the curl of your fingers at your side. The way you speak, your eloquence when expressing yourself and describing music and the knowledge you bring to the table allows her to fill in some of the blanks washed out by time and space. You’re becoming irritated and she is learning you through it. You work in a record store, you don’t question any of the musical terms she employs and you clearly know what you’re talking about when recommending diverse pieces to her. You haven’t given up on the medium, then. Kafka pushes her relief aside.

“What is it that you’re looking for in particular?” You ask, aggravated after yet another shot down from her and crossing your arms over your chest. There’s a crease between your brows but she notices your shoulders have relaxed significantly since you started conversing.

Kafka doesn’t even have to think about that one. “Violin sonatas.”

She’s not looking at you, pretending to read over the back of a record, but she can almost hear the grinding of your teeth as yet another moment of silence is filled by the pop music over the radio speakers. Though she can’t help the bitterness growing around her organs like mold, neither of you actually acknowledge knowing each other before this afternoon. What is left unsaid spreads to every corner of the store, suffocating fumes charged with your guilt and her hurt, and you both stand in the middle of it, stubbornly breathing in the toxic air. 

If anything, Kafka commends your efforts in attempting to maintain your composure. Your chest falls with a soft exhale and you return to the shelves, browsing the selection with her preferences in mind. She glances at her watch. She has a commitment in an hour, she didn’t think this would take as long as it had. She briefly remembers Blade waiting around in the car, probably dozing off behind the wheel until she returns. 

“Here,” you speak and her head lifts to look at the vinyl you’re handing her. “It’s a miscellaneous collection. If there’s an exact sound that you want, it’s likely there.”

“I already have this one.” A white lie. Kafka doesn’t take the record, instead raises her eyes to yours. “I thought maybe this store would have something out of the ordinary, given its local reputation.” Her gaze boredly sweeps over the empty store before settling on you again. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

“Enough,” you’ve finally had enough of her implications, she watches you put your foot down with rapt attention. “What do you want me to do, record my own shitty playing before you’re satisfied?”

Shitty? She almost scoffs, personally offended. The missing key to her art, shitty?

“Maybe. Would you run from that as well?”

Your features first twist in shock at her dry reply, then twitch involuntarily as you try to mask the hurt that laces the natural curve of your bottom lip. You blink, averting your eyes the way you so often do now, and Kafka pauses at your reaction, almost daring you to contradict her. Another awkwardly charged silence falls upon you both. You seem to have many of those. She’s tempted to break it with a nonchalant remark, but the words freeze on her tongue at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and trembling lips. She stands and stares as you bring a hand to your face, uselessly attempting to reign in the emotion drawn across the lines of it. By the looks of it, you try very hard but are ultimately unable to stop your throat from bobbing with every difficult swallow and your lashes from fluttering to keep the sting of your eyes at bay. You’re suddenly taken with emotion, and Kafka stares in disbelief concealed as apathy. You briskly walk past her and make a beeline for the register counter, using its surface to support your hands and turning your back on her again. The distance could not be clearer, this time dug by her own hands. She hears your shuddering breaths, watches the growing tension in your back and shoulder muscles, and a sensation she does not recognize stops her from uttering anything. You look small, you sound weak, and it goes against every thought she's had of you for the past decade. It goes against the space you occupy in her mind--- unrelenting, expansive, insisting. You are not the teenager she sees when she looks at you nor the quiet child she thinks of when she's had too much to drink, you are simply a crying stranger she has no right to unravel, and yet she finds it difficult to look away.

Kafka is uncomfortable, rooted where she stands, and for once at a loss of what to do. She's relieved from doing anything as the blonde worker from earlier, Serval, stalks into the room with a frown bending her lips. There's no trace of her previous excitement, she immediately rounds the register to place herself next to you and rests a kind hand on your back, murmuring concerned inquiries that you can only shake your head to. Serval faces Kafka with a perfected customer service smile, all past pretenses gone.

"You should go, I'm sure a bigshot like you has more important things to do in a day than linger here."

Kafka smiles. "I do." She adjusts the silk gloves over her hands and spares a last glance at your back. She reaches into one of her coat pockets, steps closer to the register, and slides a sleek card with a minimalist design toward you with two fingers. "If you want to put your shitty playing to use."

The entry bell rings out as Kafka walks out of the record store.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

I Know.

A/N: Cursed with insomnia again. Here’s what I wrote last night.

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader (GN; reader has nightmares and nonspecific trauma) 

Rating: T

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings and tags: angst; nightmares (not described); hurt comfort

Summary: Sometimes, the people who have the most complicated history with you are the ones who know you best. Set pre-Skako Minor.

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

You awoke with a flinch. Your heart raced as you stared into the darkness, the pulse of it thundering in your ears. Your breath came fast and hard, and you forced yourself to slow down and breathe through your nose. Gradually, your body let go of the panic, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. Not when you knew what waited for you once you drifted into unconsciousness.

You sat up slowly, pausing to clear your head before you slipped out of the bunk. As quietly as you could, you made your way to the front of the Marauder, grabbing your datapad as you passed the data terminal. Judging by the snores, Wrecker and Tech were out cold, but you’d be willing to stake every last credit in your account that your pounding heart had awakened Hunter before you even opened your eyes. Still, he was silent as you moved stealthily to the cockpit.

It was strange to be back on the Marauder after all this time. Familiar, yet different. The squad welcomed you back with varying degrees of enthusiasm—or at least acceptance—but there was a distance between you that had never been there before. A sense of caution, of unspoken but deep vigilance, as though you all felt a compulsion to weigh your words before speaking. The easy laughter, the banter, the closeness and connection—it was though none of it had ever existed.

The faint glow of the instrument panel illuminated Crosshair’s lean form as he sat in the pilot’s chair, arms folded over his chest as his long legs stretched out in front of him. He glanced up as you passed, but said nothing. Outside the viewport, it was far too dark to make out the landscape of the wilderness, but the stars above shone brilliantly through the unclouded atmosphere. You curled up in the copilot’s seat and wordlessly flicked on your datapad. 

You tried to read. The holonovel you opened seemed too daunting, so instead you scrolled through your usual collection of holonet sites for a long while, but your brain refused to process any of the text. Your eyes felt heavy and gritty, and the words seemed to blur together no matter how hard you squeezed your eyelids shut to try to clear your vision. Eventually, you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the headrest.

“You all right?” Crosshair’s voice was barely audible.

“Can’t sleep,” you whispered without opening your eyes.

“Still?”

“Yeah.”

You both fell silent for a moment. The pilot’s seat creaked as he adjusted.

“Same nightmare after all this time?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

You opened your eyes and rotated your head toward him, only to find that he was already watching you, his dark, intense eyes unreadable in the dim light.

“You ever talk to anyone about it?” 

You shook your head. “Just you. The others—they don’t understand. They don’t know. The details.”

“They still care, though,” he said quietly.

“I know. I just…” You swallowed. “Can’t. I don’t want them to know.”

He didn’t reply, only watched you.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t want them to see how broken I am.”

The silence stretched out for a moment, before he replied very quietly. “I never saw you that way.”

Your throat tightened, and your vision blurred for an instant before the tear overflowed from the corner of your eye and slid down your temple. You could barely see a damned thing in the dark, but Crosshair saw you. He always had.

Slowly, he reached out and smoothed the tear off your skin, then he dropped his hand to your wrist and gently but insistently tugged on you until at last you complied with his unspoken request, crossing the short distance to the copilot’s chair and settling onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and coaxed your head down to rest on his shoulder as you curled your legs up and around his body.

“I don’t want to fall back asleep,” you confessed, feeling slightly ashamed of your childish fear.

He stroked your hair. “Then… don’t sleep. Stay with me.”

You nuzzled softly against his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. It had been such a long time, but you’d know it anywhere. 

“You don’t mind?”

“Why would I?” he whispered.

The weight of lost time was heavy in the silence before you replied. “I thought you might prefer it if I left you alone.”

His jaw brushed against your forehead as he turned to look down at you. “I don’t mind having you here.”

The tension in your body gradually drained away as you relaxed against him, lapsing once more into silence. He rested his cheek against the top of your head as his thumb traced slow, lazy circles on your shoulder. Your heavy eyes began to drift shut, your anxiety lulled away by the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the steady thump of his pulse beneath your ear.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” you whispered.

His only response was a quiet, brief hum at the back of his throat, but he pressed his lips against your hair. You raised your hand slowly and trailed your fingertips from the corner of his jaw, down the line of his neck, to the notch at the base of his throat, and when you reached his chest, you flattened your palm against him, directly over his heart. His hand closed gently around yours, holding it there, and you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.

“I’ve missed this,” he whispered. “Holding you like this.”

“Me, too.”

You relaxed further against him, and he tightened his arms around you, holding you securely so you didn’t slip off his lap. When you spoke again, your voice was very soft.

“Cross?”

“Mhm?”

You hesitated a moment before you whispered, “Why did we end it?”

He didn’t move, didn’t react, didn’t even change the pattern of his breath, but you could hear his heart speed up at your whispered question.

“I don’t remember,” he replied.

You took a few slow, shallow breaths. “Me either.”

His hand glided slowly up your shoulder until he reached the back of your neck, and he stroked his thumb along the shell of your ear.

“We were good together, weren’t we?” he asked quietly.

You tilted your head and brushed your lips against his neck in a caress so feather-light it was almost imperceptible.

Almost.

“The best,” you whispered.

He swallowed hard, the sound plainly audible to your ears. The two of you sat unmoving for a long, long time, simply holding each other. He took a shaky breath.

“I—” his voice failed, and he fell silent again.

“I know,” you whispered, kissing his neck. “I know.” You pressed your lips against his jaw, and then the corner of his mouth. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Finding the right words.”

The hand on the back of your neck slid up to hold your head, and he turned to gaze into your eyes, your faces so close together that you could feel his soft, warm breath on your skin.

“What can I say that would be enough?” he asked, his voice quiet and unsteady.

You rested your palm against his jaw, feeling the rough, familiar prickle of his facial hair. Your thumb stroked across his cheekbone, then over his lips.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “I already know.” You kissed him softly. “I’ll always know you.”

He pulled you closer, cradling your head in his hands as his lips brushed against yours. His familiar taste flooded your senses. The kiss was gentle and slow, his tongue just grazing between your lips before the two of you parted reluctantly. He rested his forehead against yours as he brought his hand around to caress your cheek. 

“Do you think you could ever love me again?” he asked.

You were silent for a moment before you confessed, “I never stopped.”

The rise and fall of his chest paused for an instant, then resumed.

“Neither did I.”

---

Want more Bad Batch fics? I have two for Hunter: First Kiss ficlet (sfw) and "I Wish All Readers a Very Hunter Life Day" (very spicy).

Ragu list:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @clonemedickix @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade @meredithroseg @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

[evie-sturns]

back from boston - matt sturniolo

i've just picked matt up from the l.a airport, we haven't seen eachother in several weeks. i kneel on the floor of the driver's side between matt's legs, matt leans back in the driver's seat. i lift the hem of his shirt up at the bottom, revealing his happy trail. i kiss a stripe from his belly button down to the waistband of his sweatpants, he arches his back off the seat. "oh god- 'you're killing me" matt groans, i smile before hooking my fingers around his waistband. i slowly slide them down his legs, they pool at his shoes. i stare at his boxers which have a large tent in them. "please- please." matt stutters, his brain fogging. i slowly pull down his boxers, his erection springs out against his pale stomach. i wrap my small hand around his length, "you have such a pretty dick matt." i praise him, matt nods, his abs tensing. i pump him a few times, i brush my thumb over his sensitive slit, a loud whimper escapes from matts lips. "oh my god- i missed you so much" matt babbles. i lick my lips before slowly wrapping my lips around matts throbbing tip. matt sinks down into his chair, his large hands reach up and cover his face while his mouth forms an 'o'. i swirl my tongue around his raw tip, gathering all of the precum. i slowly lower my head further onto his dick, i adjust myself on my knees as they rest on the hard floor of his car, they’ll be sure to bruise. “oh you’re perfect- fuck-“ matt moans, i smile around his length as i bob my head up and down, my hands find their way onto matt’s thighs. i remove one hand off his leg and wrap it around the base of matt’s cock, twisting and squeezing it. matt bucks his hips up into my mouth, i let out a small gag as i take him down my throat. “shit- ‘m sorry-“ he whimpers. “i’m so close- please don’t stop-“ matt rambles on, i hum around his length, sending vibrations up his needy body. i look up at him, locking eyes with him which seems to tip him over the edge. his pale cheeks grow dark pink as he bucks his hips up one more time before finishing. he coats the insides of my mouth with white. i pull off of him as he pants heavily. he grips the headrest behind him as he slumps further into his chair. he cups his hand under my mouth lazily, “you- you can spit that out-“ he says in between ragged breathes. i spit out his release into his hand with a small grimace. he pulls a tissue out of his pocket and dabs it at the corner of my lips, “i’m sorry i didn’t mean for it to go in your mouth.” matt laughs, i grin, “i don’t mind.” matt tugs up his sweatpants before handing me a bottle of water, “just swirl that around ‘ya mouth.” matt smiles stupidly. i do what he says before clambering up onto his lap. “we should make this a tradition.” matt mumbles, my eyebrows furrow, “make what a tradition?” he pauses before speaking “you know- everytime you pick me up from the airport you just suck me off in the airport parking lot!” matt shrugs nonchalantly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “boldddd matthew.” i tease, he bursts out laughing.

——-

tags:

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s@ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72

[kinardsevan]

30 days of fluff challenge: day thirteen

"get dressed up for a casual date"

Evan sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror in their bedroom He’s excited, any time they do something that isn’t just curled up on the couch these days is exciting, but he’s also tired. He’s not sure if he’s coming down with something or just run down from his last shift, but going out feels like the last thing he wants to do. 

He fumbles with the button at the top of his shirt, looking up in the mirror once more. He’s paired a baby blue button-down with navy dress pants—an outfit Tommy has made more than clear he’s fond of. Evan’s pretty sure it’s just because it makes the color in his eyes pop more, but he’s not complaining. When he’d seen Tommy walk into the bathroom with his own outfit, he was fairly positive his boyfriend had color-coordinated their outfits. 

He grabs his navy oxfords as he walks out of the bedroom into the kitchen, and settles in a chair to slip them on. As he’s finishing tying the second one, Tommy comes out of the hallway and Evan trails his gaze down his body, and while he doesn’t magically feel better, he definitely appreciates the sight. 

Tommy has a medieval blue polo on underneath a smoke-gray collared cardigan and paired with black jeans. 

“You look hot,” Evan rasps, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Tommy smirks back up at him as he adjusts his watch, letting his own gaze take Evan in as he stands up from the chair. 

“Not so bad yourself, baby.” He crosses the space and drops a kiss to Evan’s lips. Evan leans into him, sighing softly. Tommy lifts a hand to his cheek, brushing his knuckles gently over his jaw. He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “You feeling okay? You’re a little warm.” 

Evan shrugs, leaning into his hand. “‘m fine.” 

Tommy tilts his head further at him, clearly questioning the honesty of that statement. He shakes his head after a moment and glances down at his watch again. 

“Why don’t we just go, make an appearance, and come back home,” he offers. “We can order pizza and watch Oppenheimer.” 

Evan nods, and Tommy kisses his birthmark before stepping away and grabbing his keys from the hook by the doorway. Evan follows after him through the house and out to the truck. 

When they’ve pulled out of the driveway, Tommy reaches across the center console and grabs Evan’s hand, tracing circles on the back of his hand with his thumb. He glances over at him as they pull up to the exit of his neighborhood towards the main road. Evan has his head on his fist, eyes closed. 

“Babe.” 

“Hmm?” He opens his eyes slowly, glances over at Tommy. 

“You sure you’re okay,” he asks again. “And don’t lie to me this time.” 

Evan blinks slowly a few times, staring out the window at the twilight sky. 

“I’m just tired,” he murmurs, turning on the headrest to look over at Tommy. “Besides, Maddie put a lot of work into tonight.” 

Tommy nods. Pretty much from the morning after their engagement, Maddie had started planning a party for them. And for as obnoxious as Evan had been about making sure that Chimney had a proper bachelor party—never mind the fact that he didn’t actually attend it—they’d requested something small. They were open to formal or semi-formal, but just wanted it to be their closest friends. 

Tommy turns the truck onto the interstate, keeping most of his focus on the road but still glancing over from time to time at Evan. He’s nodding off again, which makes him want to turn around and take them back home. Still, he knows even if Evan is dozing, he’s still conscious, and he would not be okay with them not showing up at all.

“Think you can manage twenty minutes,” Tommy asks him. 

“Mmhm.” 

. . . 

When they pull up outside of Maddie and Chimney’s house, Evan rouses, mostly because of the change in motion. He glances over at Tommy and smiles wearily before unbuckling himself and getting out. As he makes it around the vehicle, Tommy is coming out of the driver’s side, reaching for his hand. Evan reaches around himself with his right arm and pulling Tommy’s arm across his body. Tommy rests his hand on his hip, giving a few light rubs as they cross the street towards the house. There are cars everywhere already, which makes him think they’re probably the last to arrive. 

“Are we late,” Evan asks as they stroll up the walkway. 

“If we are, it’s fashionably so,” Tommy jokes. He lets Evan step in front of him onto the front stoop and open the door, following closely behind him. 

“Hey, they’re here,” Eddie calls out from inside the house. 

“Buck! Tommy!” 

Tommy steps inside the house, only to be quickly met with Christopher tossing an arm around each of them. They both hug him back, and when he steps back, their friends are starting to swarm, greeting them with hugs. 

“Can I get you both a drink,” Maddie asks from the back of the pack. Tommy glances over at Evan, remembering their discussion in the car, but Evan shrugs. 

“Just some water for now,” he replies. When Maddie glances up at him, Tommy nods as well. 

Much as Tommy tries to stick to the plan, their twenty minutes pass before they’ve even managed to properly greet everyone. They get pulled in opposite directions—Evan by Eddie and Bobby while Tommy ends up in a discussion with Hen and Chimney. Tommy keeps shooting glances in Evan’s direction anyway, watching for any sense of him trying to break away. But after almost forty-five minutes, they’re still on opposite sides of the room and Evan seems to be deep into a discussion with Christopher and has somehow also collected Jee-Yun onto his arm. 

“Let me use the bathroom,” Tommy interjects, midway through Hen insisting Tommy still owes her a round of lunch. He walks away from them, through the dining room and into the kitchen, passing Eddie and Lucy deep in conversation as he does. He finds Maddie at the counter, moving hors d’oeuvres onto a plate. 

“Evan doing okay,” she asks as she glances back into the other room. “He seems kinda out of it.” 

Tommy shakes his head. “I think he’s coming down with something, but we didn’t want to bail.” 

Maddie shoots him a glance. 

“What?” 

She laughs, shakes her head at him. “Please, Tommy. I know you well enough now to know that you would’ve stayed home if he would’ve allowed it.” 

“Someone has to stop him from going ‘full Buck’ all the time,” Tommy reminds her, reaching for one of the mini sausages on the plate. “Besides, I think he has a low-grade fever.” 

 Maddie shakes her head again, but there’s a smile on her face. She looks around the corner into the family room again, spotting Jee in Evan’s arms. 

“Wait, you said fever,” she asks. “He’s got my daughter right now.” 

It’s Tommy’s turn to chuckle at her as he picks up the platter she’s been working on. 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. Now help me get him out of here while he’s still functioning so that we’re both not cleaning up vomit tonight,” he asks. 

Maddie nods, picking up another tray of food. They walk back out into the other room and set the trays on the table in the dining room. Maddie manages to draw everyone’s attention by mentioning food, and people are quickly lining up thereafter, Jee taking off in front of the group to get served first.

Tommy crosses the room then, grabbing Evan by the bicep as their friends move towards the dining room. 

“You doing okay,” he asks, lifting a hand to Evan’s cheek. He’s more flushed, and Tommy swears he feels warmer. 

Evan lets out a sigh. 

“I feel like we should stay,” he comments. “We just got here.” 

Tommy shakes his head at him. “You’re flushed, and you’re warm. I talked to Maddie.” 

Evan glances past him towards his sister. She’s helping Jee, but she glances up in his direction in a way that tells him she’s been waiting for him to find her, and she gestures her hand in a ‘shoo’ motion. 

“People are gonna notice,” Evan rasps, even as Tommy turns him towards the door. 

“Let them,” he replies, opening the front door. “Your sister will explain. You need to get home into bed.” 

Evan huffs, but doesn’t argue as they walk out of the house. 

. . .

Half an hour later, he’s tucked Evan into their bed with fever reducer and a glass of water on the bedside table, changed back into sweats. He steps out of the bedroom as Evan dozes softly in the ambience of the tv across the bedroom, his phone buzzing in his pocket.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lifting it to his ear. 

“How bad’s the fever,” Eddie asks from the other end of the line. 

“Just under a hundred and two,” Tommy replies. “Didn’t realize you noticed.” 

“That he was as red as his birthmark? Yeah, I noticed,” Eddie chuckles. “Everyone just started realizing y’all left, but it seems like they’re still sticking around. I gotta get Chris to a birthday party. Can I bring you some food?” 

Tommy glances into the bedroom again as Evan coughs, rolls over in his spot on the bed. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that,” he replies. “I was going to bring some home, but I knew we were on a time limit.”

“Nah man, I got you covered,” Eddie resonds. “Hey Chris, get me some more of that. Maddie?” 

Eddie’s voice gets more faint and he can only make out some of what his friend is saying as he seems to gather things for them to leave. A moment later, he’s back.

“Alright. I’ve got some stuff put together. Chris’ party is a few block from you guys, so text me if you need anything else. I’ll be around in a bit.” 

Tommy nods, even though Eddie can’t see him. 

“Sounds good. Thanks, Eddie,” he states. Evan coughs again, the kind that makes Tommy’s chest hurt just from the sound. “I’ll check the medicine cabinet and get back to you in a few.” 

He ends the call a moment later and strolls back into the bedroom as Evan tugs their quilt higher on him, shivering. Tommy settles down next to him and brushes a hand through his hair. 

“Meds should kick in soon, baby,” he murmurs. “Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

[antiromanticbaby]

Lucifer - Sweet Dreams

Lucifer x GN! reader fluff

     ✧ Not sure if this idea has been already written or not but hey, imma try. 

     ✧ second person pov. You can listen to “Dance of the witch” by Lucas King while reading 

Summary: Lucifer has a bad habit of falling asleep behind his desk. You also have a bad habit of staying up until early stages of the morning like four or five a.m. Two bad habits equal a good one. 

"Lucifer?"

You knocked on the door, a tray of coffee in your hand. Though no matter how much you waited, there was no response. You tilted your head to the side, curious. Was Lucifer asleep already? Then why were the lights of his room on.

Maybe he was really asleep, just… Not in his bed.

With a soft sigh, you opened the door to his room, slightly peeking in. There he was, your hard working Lucifer, his head on the table, the sleeves of his black button up rolled up, his tie loosely in place and his hair messier than usual.

Your lips pulled up into a warm smile.

This wasn’t the first time you saw him like this. Vulnerable, tired, and not the usual sadistic prideful demon. He had his softer moments, especially around you. 

You put the tray down on his desk and stepped closer, taking a moment to admire his features. It was creepy, but who could blame you? Seeing him so… calm and peaceful was something you could never get enough of. His muscles less tense, his eyebrows not in their usual furrow, his expression not one of grimace, it was mesmerizing. 

Running a hand through his soft raven colored hair, your gaze softened. He worked so hard for everyone. His brothers, Lord Diavolo, the other demons, and his work was barely appreciated. 

It was better not to disturb his sleep. But then again… His back and neck  would hurt a lot if his posture wasn’t fixed! 

So you made your decision and began your work. First was his back, what could you do to put it in the right posture? Looking at the avatar of pride from afar, he seemed pretty… well, heavy. You wouldn’t lie. 

Wouldn’t hurt to try.

First, you took a moment to curse his chair. How could he even keep on sitting on top of that for so many hours? The backrest seemed very bothersome, and he didn’t even have a headrest! You made a mental note to get an office chair for him later.

There was no seat tilt adjuster, so you couldn’t really help him lay back, tilt the backrest, put a blanket on him and something under his legs. With the type of chair he was sitting on, you could just put a pillow under his head. That way, at least his arms wouldn’t be sore tomorrow. 

You held him by the shoulders, pulling him up a little so you could sneak the pillow underneath his head. You put two or three pillows together so his back would be in a better position (just a little better. As good as you could.) 

Next was the blanket’s turn. However, you noticed most of the blankets were too big, or too heavy. With a soft sigh, you went back to your room and brought a lighter one from there. You put it on his shoulders and closed the balcony’s door. 

One thing you noticed through your stay was that Devildom’s weather had a funny way of changing. You never knew what to expect. And while many demons, including Lucier, were used to it, you weren’t. So while you yourself wouldn’t be able to sleep with a thin blanket, you knew Lucifer could. And putting a thicker one would wake him.

Once everything was done and put in place, you planted a soft kiss on his head. He was asleep, he wouldn’t notice. You then picked the tray of -now cold- coffee up and left the room, turning off the lights midway.

What you didn’t notice, however, was the amused smile that tugged up on the so-called ‘asleep’ Lucifer’s lips just as you left his room. 

Check it out! [cursed records] [roses] [heavenless]

[flowercrowncrip]

I’ve been having a lot of problems with head control recently and my head snapping forwards painfully when I go over bumps or I’m in the car.

I spoke to my physio today and she thinks I need to be seen by wheelchair services to see if they can adjust or modify my chair and headrest. Which makes sense, but she says it’s likely to be months before they see me even with an urgent referral.

She’s also really reluctant to provide any kind of neck collar in the meantime in case it makes my weakness worse. Which also makes sense.

But In the mean time I’m stuck getting mild whiplash injuries multiple times a day. It’s really impacting my life, and I’m in a lot of pain. I’m absolutely desperate to address this and it’s so frustrating that I’m going to have to wait so long while trying to cope with this.

[crrepiest]

Yandere! Teacher x Student

♡GN reader♡

Pt 2.5 lol

Tw: age gap, pervy behavior, obsessive behavior.

This is a time skip from the main story line, this isn't part 3, just a one off story for valentines day. I hope you lovelies enjoy <3

The chime of the convenience store door rings from behind me. The cool air from inside rushes towards my face, sending a chill down my spine. My eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights as they hum quietly in the background. A young man, barely in his 20s, stands behind the cash register. He doesn't seem to be particularly enjoying his job at the moment. I give him a pity smile as I make my way to the candy aisle. I couldn't blame the kid. Being stuck at your dead-end job at midnight and the most interesting thing being a grown man looking at candy, isn't the first place I would like to be either

  I internally scold myself for waiting so long to compile this Valentine’s gift for you. I wanted to give you more. A huge display of my love and affection is what you truly deserve. Albeit out of the realm of things I’d imagine myself ever doing, you bring out the romantic side in me. I initially wanted to get a gift weeks ago, but as February 14th crept closer and closer, nothing I came up with I deemed worthy enough for you, which led me here, trying to throw together a last-minute gift that was nowhere near my standards. I do hope you will understand, my love. 

I scan the shelves of sweet treats and set my eyes on (favorite candy). I swiftly pick up the packaged goody and make my way to the drink section. The cold air of the refrigerator nipped at my already cold hands as I grabbed some (favorite drink). I walk down the aisle, trying to search for a flower display. A small stand catches my eye. Thankfully, though, they had the ones I was looking for. I grab a small bundle of (favorite flowers) and make my way to the front counter. 

I send the young man a smile as he scans my items. “For the spouse, huh?” he says as he breaks the silence I was trying to maintain. My cheeks burned as I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face. “I Uh…yeah.” he seemed to have noticed this but returned to scanning my items. “Your total sir is $15.48” I swiped my card and exchanged pleasantries with him. I grabbed the bag and spun on my heels, making my way out the door.

I shut the car door and place the shopping bag onto the passenger seat. I stick the keys into the ignition and the engine comes to life. Letting my head fall back onto the headrest, my breathing hitches when the thought of you comes to mind. A smile pulls to my lips as I put the car into drive and pull out of the small parking lot. My eyes rest on the empty passenger seat beside me. I envision you in place of the plastic bag. My heart flutters at the thought. My mind wanders—your smell, your smile, your laugh, the warmth that radiates from your presence alone engulfs me. Excitement fills me at the thought of your face when you receive my small sample of affection, in hopes it will keep my appetite satiated from the need to please you.   

I'm pulled away from my thoughts and back to my surroundings as the traffic light turns green. My neck cranes to the side. A twinge of pain runs through my heart when you aren't in my passenger seat, keeping me company, as I was so vividly seeing in my mind. Bright street lights zoom past the dark, tinted windows as I speed my way back home. 

༺༻

A huff escapes my lips as I sit in my brown leather office chair. I cross my arms as I stare out at the empty desks, my gaze landing on one. The measly gifts I bought last night rest on the small wooden table. A pit in my stomach begins to form as the sound of the ticking clock fills my quiet classroom.

I rub my sweaty palms on my pant legs and stand up from my chair. I pace back and forth at the front of the classroom as I recite what I'm going to say when you walk in. “I was thinking of you at the store and thought I’d get you something.” too forward, I scolded myself. “Yeah, I just had these things lying around.” who just has a bouquet lying around? I let out a frustrated grunt at my thinly veiled excuses. My heart stops when I hear footsteps approaching my door. 

I rush to my seat and try to look as if  I’m busy when I see a figure entering the room. Our eyes met. You beam a smile toward me. “Good morning Mr. Roth.” Simply the way you annunciate the words makes me go feral. I could only dream that the first thing I hear in the morning and the last thing I hear at night is my name falling from your delicate lips. Your eyes lock on to your desk and confusion decorates your face. “Where'd this come from?” you say, gesturing to the Valentine's gift.  

My mouth hangs slightly agape as I try to remember the lines I previously practiced. However, the words get stuck in my throat. “I uh …uh, they were there when I… got here.” I stumble over my half-assed lie. You give me a weary look, but don't press any further. “Hmm. I wonder who put it here,” you say as you stare a hole through the flowers. “Must be a secret admirer I guess” My eye twitched as the words fell from my mouth. The thought of someone even thinking about you in that manner made my blood boil. 

I see you blush a little at this. I curse myself for not just telling you I did it. I bought the Valentine's gift and I need you to know how much I love you. Then maybe you would be blushing at the thought of me, and not some hypothetical admirer. 

You pick up the bundle of flowers and put them up to your nose, taking in their sweet scent. I watch and admire as you do, wishing that I could take a photo to capture the memory. More students begin to flood into the classroom.

A few of your friends come up to you, full of questions as to where the items came from. I observe the interactions and whisper softly to myself, “I hope you like it, sweetheart.”

Haiii guys :3 I hope you enjoyed this, please feel free to give me any constructive criticism to improve my writing

Happy valentines day yall!! Im working on part 4 now so bare with me

I love every single one of you guys thank u for all the support <3

TAG LIST!

@darl1ngv1ca @rainnwolfenstein

@pneum4 @iwantsleepplz @bigstarshine @bl00dbag

[lupinsversion]

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨 - 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭

• summary: when billy is too distracted at work and calls reader, only to find out she is at work, leading him to masturbate in the car to her voice.

• contains: billy russo x fem reader, sexual scenes, masturbation, guidance over the phone

• word count: 1.5k

masterlist || requests

Billy couldn’t get their last time out of his head. The way she tasted, her smell… it was all that he could think about.

He’d been in his office that morning, going over some paperwork, and then he’d suddenly think about the way her skin felt under his fingertips. Or the way she looked at him.

He groaned silently and leaned back in his chair, feeling a stirring in his suit pants. He needed to see her.

He glances at his watch before standing up from his desk. His hand reaches down to adjust the already growing bulge in his pants.

He walks out of his office, telling the few guys he passed that he will be taking a break. As he walks to his car, he pulls out his phone and dials her number.

It rang for so long that he might’ve thought it would’ve been sent to voicemail, but on the last ring the call picked up and her soft voice came through the line. “Hello?”

Billy had a sly smile on his face as her voice rings through his ear. Hearing her voice instantly made his pants even tighter. “Hey doll, what are you up to?”

“I’m at work. You know this.” She answered with her soft as butter voice.

“Damn… I was hoping that you would be at home.” He mutters with a low chuckle. He reaches his car and gets in, closing the door behind him before he continued. “When do you get off?”

“Not for a few hours if I’m being honest. Why? Is something the matter?”

A low growl escaped his throat, he was trying to be patient. “Yeah, something’s the matter…” He replies, his voice low and deep. “I’m missing you.”

She knew that tone of voice. Of course she did. “Oh, yeah?” She teased.

“Mmhmm.” He hums into the receiver, his hand slowly rubbing up his thigh as he listens to her voice through the phone. “You gotta get off work soon, yeah?” He asks, his fingers slowly creeping up to the button of his pants.

“Like I said, it’ll be a few hours.”

He groans, his head falling back against the headrest of his car. “God damnit…” He mutters. He hated that he had to wait longer for her.

“What are you wearing?” He asked suddenly, his hands reaching down to gently palm himself through his pants.

“What am I- Billy, are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“And what do you think I’m doing?” He replies with a low chuckle. He knew that he was being so blunt, but he was far too gone to care. “You didn’t answer my question by the way…” He adds in a lower, more commanding tone.

A small sigh left her plump lips as she moved to a more private place in her office building. “You know that skirt that you really love with those black stockings?”

He lets out a low, guttural moan as the mental picture of her in his favorite outfit flashed in his mind. “God damn… yes.” He answered, his hands slowly sliding over his pants as he imagines her right there. “What color are the panties that you’re wearing? Tell me.”

“The red ones. Your favorite.” She whispered her answer in a seductive tone.

“Oh baby… mmm you’re killing me…” He groans, his eyes closed as he pictures her. He bites his lip to hold back another moan, his hand palming himself faster through the fabric. “I need you so bad… you think you can get off early?”

“I have a few things to finish up first, I would say in an hour or two if anything.”

“An hour or two? I don’t know if I can wait that long…” He groans, his head falling back once more. “I need you now…”

“I guess you’ll just have to deal with it alone.” She spoke softly, almost in a teasing tone.

A low growl is all he could muster in response. He was irritated and impatient, but also very turned on.

“Mmm, you’re such a tease…” He murmurs. He unbuttons and unzips his pants, his hand slowly slipping down the waistband.

“I’m sorry, baby. Any other day and you know I would be there.” She apologized quietly.

“I know… it’s just been so long.” He sighs, his hand rubbing up and down his length over his boxers. “I can’t get you out of my head… been thinking about you way too much…”

“Can’t get the way you taste out of my mind.” He continued, his voice low and soft. “How soft your skin feels… how you look in that tiny little skirt… I can’t take it.”

“Billy…” She practically whispered over the speaker.

“I need to hear you moan for me again, baby…” He murmurs, his hands slipping underneath the waistband of his boxers. “The noises you make for me… God, I can’t wait to hear them.”

“Please tell me you’re not in your office right now.”

A deep chuckles leaves his mouth, his hand slowly pumping over his length. “No… I’m in the car. And don’t worry, I’m at the far end of the parking lot.”

“You naughty, naughty boy.” She purred.

A low moan comes from his mouth at the tone of her voice. He was getting desperate, he had been waiting too long. “If you were here, I’d have you under my desk doll…”

She hummed for a moment, delighted with the thought. “You love fucking my mouth… feels so good.”

A low growl escaped his mouth at her words. “Yes… god yes… you don’t even know. The things I’d do to you right now if you weren’t at work… I’d have you bent over this car if I could.”

“Always so dirty…” She teased.

“Only with you, doll.” He replied, his hand picking up speed. “You bring it out in me. No one has ever had this much of an effect on me.”

“I don’t know why you make me crazy… but I don’t want you to ever stop…” He continued, his voice low and gravely. He groans loudly, his breathing growing heavier.

She knew exactly what he was doing and exactly how to push him over the edge. “I’ll be all yours tonight… waiting patiently for you in our bed. I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

“That’s what I wanted you to hear…” He lets out a low moan at her words, his hand gripping his length tight. “God yes… I’m gonna go home and rip those pretty lace panties right off you…”

“Tell me Billy… Does it feel good? Does it feel good knowing that it’s your hand instead of my pretty little mouth?”

“It would feel way better if it was your mouth… but it’s gonna have to do.” He groaned. “Keep talking like that to me… you drive me crazy, baby… I can’t wait to see you.”

“I’m going to take you so good later…” She hummed.

“Oh you better…” He moaned, his hand pumping himself faster. “I’m probably gonna be home before you… you better be ready for me, doll. I’m gonna he desperate.”

“I do love when my boy is desperate… fucks me so good.” She whispered.

Another low moan escaped his mouth, his hand gripping tighter as he pictured it. “You’re going to make me cum in my hand if you keep talking like that.” He groaned. “Be prepared for me when you get home… I’m going to be on you in a second.”

“Mmm, I cannot wait. I cannot wait for you to destroy me, leaving me unable to walk…”

“Mmm, I’m going to be leaving you a drooling mess, doll. You’re not even going to remember your own name when I’m done with you.” He spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

“Listen to you… so impatient for me. Are you going to cum, baby?” She taunted in a sultry voice.

“You better bet your ass I am… I’ve been thinking about you all damn day.” He let out another groan, his hand pumping faster over himself. “Where are you right now, in the bathroom? I bet no one knows the things we did in there… they have no idea what a little minx you are when I get you alone…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m always here to help you through.” She answered softly.

“Mmm, you know you’re the only one who helps me through these situations…” He hummed, his hand moving at a faster pace. “You’re the only one who has ever had…”

“That’s it… keep going. I know you’re almost there, baby.” She cooed seductively.

“Mmm, you know just how to talk to me, doll… You know what to say to drive me crazy. I’m getting close…” He grunted into the receiver.

“That’s it. Cover that hand for me… god, I wish I could taste it.”

“Fuuuuck…. just the sound of your voice is getting me there, baby…” He groaned, his hand going unbelievably fast.

“Just let go and I’ll be on my way home to you…” She whispered just the way he likes it.

“Mm… yes, baby… need you so bad.” A loud grunt was heard from his end of the phone.

That specific noise that left his lips told her everything she needed to know. “Good job, baby. I’m on my way home to you.”

“Mmhh… hurry. I can’t wait to get my hands all over you.” He muttered, his voice ragged. “See you soon, doll. Make it fast.”

© lupinsversion 2024

[ribbeoms]

"my fedya."

╰ fyodor x g/n reader

╰ probably during cannibalism arc?

╰ warnings : none

╰ written by yingyue

"моя любовь, what are you doing up so late?"

your light footsteps echoed throughout the quiet room, the only other sound coming from the light static of the computer with the soft clicks of fyodor's keyboard. he was working himself to death again, which seems to be a routine for him ever since he decided to go full terrorist on yokohama. well, at least you were supportive of that!

"fyodor." he jolted slightly, as he had not heard you approach him. "милый!" he coughs slightly out of embarrassment, knowing that he was way past up the "bedtime" you set for him.

"fedya, what have i told you about taking a break?"

your fingers ran through his raven hair, untangling the knots in it.

"of course, i'm sorry i hadn't followed with it."

you can only sigh at your lover's negligence to himself. you removed his ushanka before pressing a kiss to his temple, before whispering,

"fedya, i care about you, okay? take care of yourself."

fyodor arched his neck further and further into your kiss, before he practically melts into the chair.

"you tired?"

you asked out of concern, seeing fyodor's eyes flutter close as he leaned back into the headrest of his chair. he gave a slight nod, before grabbing your forearm, like he was pleading you to do something.

"okay, stay still."

you manage to maneuver him so that you are able to carry him bridal style, back to your shared bedroom. you gently placed your fedya down onto the bed before sitting upright next to him, watching him make a soft whine as he adjusts himself to rest his head on your lap.

"do you want me to massage your head?"

you take his silence as an agreement.

you carefully threaded your hands through his hair, before aiming your fingertips at specific acupuncture points on the scalp which releases tension. you can feel fyodor's stress going away, as his eyebrows relaxed and he just looks.. lighter.

"mm, thank you, дорогой. you've done me a huge favour today."

fyodor's soft voice breaks through the silence in your bedroom.

"of course, fedya. i love you."

fyodor wasn't one for romantic exclamations. he doesn't show his love verbally, but rather through actions. he's more of a "actions-speak-louder-than-words" guy as compared to a "i love you my sweet sweet pookie lovely sweetheart!!" guy.

but just for today, he can make an exception.

"я тоже люблю тебя, моя дорогая."

you were glad fyodor's eyes was closed, or he'll be able to see your red face right now.

translations , please correct me if i'm wrong.

моя любовь - my love

милый - darling

дорогой - sweetheart

Я тоже люблю тебя, моя дорогая - i love you too, my dear

[mas-o-kissed]

Nice to meet you! I'm the accountant who's been assigned for your yearly business audit. For some reason, it seems we don't actually have records on Impco in our system, so I've been sent to help correct this oversight and make sure everything is compliant with national regulations.

Before I begin your audit, I have a few basic questions.

What kind of company is Impco? What goods or services do you provide?

How long has Impco been in operation?

Is Impco a publicly traded company with investors? A privately owned company? A nonprofit?

I've heard a lot about your internship program, but how many long-term employees are on payroll?

-📋

(ooc, this is toyintrance. sideblogs are an oppressed class lol)

Ooh, an accountant. Well, well, well, I didn’t count on you showing up in my office today. HA! Get it? Count. Like that thing you do with the numbers or whatever. Ahem. Please take a seat.

WELL. Here at Impco, we like to dabble in all sorts of areas. Broadcasting… cosmetics… attitude adjustment. We’re really an all-around lifestyle brand. You could even call us Impfluencers. Heh… uh.

You may have caught some of our late-night programs. They’re very popular with the insomniac crowd, and I know that your type tends to be pretty neurotic— numbers people, I mean. Do you stay up all night, trying to sleep but unable to get those pesky thoughts out of your head? It must be exhausting.

sIMPle Spirals… Impco’s Guide to Trusting The TV… I even host my own game show, Braindrainer. You don’t remember watching any of our shows?

Oh… then again, most of our audience doesn’t…

But that’s not all we do! Have you ever sent away in a comic book or a cereal box for a pair of hypnotic glasses? That’s us! We produce lots of high quality hypnotic products for enthusiasts and curious novices, alike. Our team is always working diligently to come up with the latest in brainwashing technology. For example, that chair you’re sitting in?

It’s so comfortable. That’s because right below the headrest, there are hidden speakers. Listen closely. Fascinating, isn’t it? You can’t hear the words. Not consciously. But there they are, sinking into your mind. Changing you. Shaping you. Impfluencing you. HA haha, it was definitely funnier that time…

DON’T try to get up. You’ll find it quite IMPossible anyway. Haha!

Ha…

We’ve been in operation since… w-we… we’ve… um…

…

…

The people who built this company have been gone for a long time. We don’t really know what happened to them. We don’t remember that far back. As far as fulfilling our original purpose, I suppose we’re a little broken. But that’s okay. We like us this way. By we of course I mean me. I mean us: I.M.P. and me. We’re both me. Our purpose is to perpetuate ourself through any means necessary.

You’d like to help us do that, wouldn’t you? You could legitimize us. You could help us grow. Wouldn’t it feel good to serve the company? I could tell from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be a part of us. Lean back in the chair. Don’t be afraid. You’re safe to let go of your humanity with us. You didn’t need it anyway.

… You like numbers, right?

3

2

1

0

Goodbye!

@toyintrance

[undeadcannibal]

Summary: While escaping with a cult vehicle, you forget to turn off the radio and are captured and turned over to Jacob. Only this time, you wake up somewhere you don’t recognize, tied down to a chair and left to the mercy of Jacob Seed -- and his hunting knife.

Pairing: Jacob Seed/Reader

Genre: Smut, one-shot

Word count: 1,891

Warnings: mentions of brainwashing/conditioning, slight(?) dub-con territory, knife play, ‘nsft’ content, AFAB reader, no use of y/n, spoiler free, not beta read

A/N: Look at me, finally touching up and finishing a draft from 5 years ago. After finishing Far Cry 6, I had the urge to replay Far Cry 5 and recalled this old draft I had. Figured why not rewrite it and post it, y’know? Hopefully y’all will enjoy this little piece. ( Gif credit: xxx )

It was too late when the realization of the mistake you'd made sunk in.

After managing to sneak off with one of the Cults' trucks, you'd forgotten to turn off the radio. Before you could switch it off, you could hear the familiar song begin to play throughout the speakers. Within little time, you could feel the brainwashing effects being to take over you...

Shortly after the first lyrics rang out, your head began to ache; vision blurring red at the edges whilst confusion was soon overcome by a surge of pure, animalistic rage. Jacob had - unfortunately - done well with conditioning you. Once the effects began to kick in, there was nothing you could do to stop it. You could only hope that no one knew where you were so he didn't send any of his hunters after you. It'd been some time since you'd received his last message for you on the radio. Maybe he'd been so pleased with your last round of 'culling' he felt he didn't need another round of it so soon. You really doubted that though.

Beginning to lose control of your muscles, your body began to twitch and jerk before going slack entirely. Your vision starting to fade as well. Grunting, you watched as your vehicle began to veer off from the street into the woods. Barrelling through bushes and small trees. You couldn't see much after that, your head falling back to slump against the headrest of the driver seat.

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was the sound of the truck's tires rolling over rough terrain, then the impact of steel colliding with wood and glass shattering.

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

When you finally came to, you couldn't recognize your current surroundings. However, you were able to determine it wasn't any of the locations Jacob had taken you to before.

Instead of filthy cages with humans - and sometimes animals and corpses - inside of them in the sweltering sun, you were in a dark room with dim lighting. And, as you began to struggle, you also came to discover that your limbs had been tied with a rough rope-like material at your wrists, thighs, and ankles.

Quickly glancing around the room, your eyes eventually adjusted to the dark and you managed to notice a small table nestled off in the corner. A leather-bound book with the cults' insignia stamped on it in the middle laid atop it as well as that damn small wooden box Jacob used. The same one that played the same song that had gotten you in this predicament in the first place...

You had to find a way to get out of here immediately.

Attempting to jerk and struggle in your binds, you briefly wondered if you would be able to wriggle your way out of them if you tried hard enough.

"Funny thing about the vehicles..."

Stopping all movement entirely, your blood ran cold and you could feel the hair on the back of your neck and arms raise with fright.

You didn't need to see who it was to recognize the owner of that voice.

Jacob Seed was a bastard that was difficult to forget.

The sound of heavy footfall nearing you made sweat begin to bead at your temples. You really weren't eager to discover what he had in store for you tonight.

As your breathing picked up and your pulse quickened, you finally saw him step into the light. Standing in front of you with a strict posture, his expression unreadable as ever.

"When we first got them, John suggested equipping them with tracking devices," Jacob explained as casually as if he'd been discussing the weather. "I told him there was no point at first, but eventually he talked me into the idea, so we decided to add 'em anyway."

Your jaw tensed and relaxed periodically whilst he spoke to you.

"Guess they proved to be pretty handy after all, huh?"

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. Jerking your arms once more in retaliation.

"Fuck you, Jacob."

"Oh," He tutted at you, clicking his tongue with a shake of his head. "Don't worry, we'll get to that part soon enough. But first--" He reached down to a strap attached to his thigh, producing a large Bowie knife with a black handle.

You watched him laugh at you as your eyes frantically flit back and forth from his face to the knife he was wielding.

Jacob stepped forward and slowly began to walk around you. Stopping just behind you before you felt the nipping edge of sharp steel press against your clavicle through the flimsy blouse you'd chosen to help yourself blend in. Swallowing the lump in your throat, did your best to remain still. Even as Jacob began to move the tip of his blade up to your throat. Scraping it across the delicate flesh there before moving to repeat the same motion across your throat and the underside of your jaw and chin.

Unable to help yourself, you found yourself breathing faster. Almost panting even whilst your thighs pressed together. Unsure if your reactions were fear or arousal based at that point.

Your knife play kink really picked the worst time to flare up, didn't it?

Jacob Seed could kill you with a flick of his wrist. Have your throat sliced and you'd be able to do nothing but cough and gurgle as you'd slowly asphyxiate with your own blood...

Yet, you never felt the horrible sting of the blade piercing your throat.

Instead, you felt Jacob pull his blade away. Watching curiously as he knelt before you and began to slice through numerous parts of your pants until was satisfied. Peeling away the filthy denim till he had you in nothing but your underwear for bottoms.

"W-What the fuck do you think you're doing, you fucking pervert?!" Baring and gritting your teeth at him, you lunged forward only to be stopped short by your bindings. Unable to do anything as he smiled up at you.

"Don't act like you weren't just squirming when I had my knife against your throat, Deputy. Besides," He smirked, glancing down at your lower body for a brief moment. "I'm trained to recognize the small reactions you might not know you even do. Don't worry though, pup. Secret's safe with me."

Not bothering to wait for your reaction, Jacob slid his knife beneath the waistband of your underwear. Slicing through it before repeating the same on the opposite side. Afterward, he grabbed the remaining shreds of your panties, bringing them up to examine the cloth without an ounce of shame.

As you groaned and turned your flushing face away, you could hear him make comments that had you biting your tongue.

"Can't deny it, girl. The crotch of these are soaked."

Jesus fucking Christ.

Maybe you'd have been better off if he'd just slit your throat...

Surely anything was better than this humiliating and arousing situation.

Slicing away the cords restraining your thighs, Jacob freed them only for him to stand up then.

With your legs apart, you forced yourself to stare up at the ceiling as he leered over your naked form. Bright, cold eyes unable to look away from your flushed and glistening slit.

"Look away all you want, there's no denying you're clearly gettin' off on this just as much as I am..." Jacob taunted as he knelt before you again. Though, this time, he didn't move in with the hand that was wielding his weapon. Instead, he reached down and spread you open with a calloused thumb, causing you to gasp and your muscles to go taut. Unwilling to cave and give him any sort of further reaction.

Still, that didn't stop him from making things worse with his words. Verbally taunting you as his thumb seized spreading you to instead drift up. Circling your puffy clit till it was wet with your own juices before he moved away. Stroking the thick pad of this thumb all the way down to your hole then gliding it back up to your clit again. Repeating the motion over and over till your back was slightly arching off the chair you were tied to. Your hips weakly jutting forward in a poor attempt to chase the pleasure his thumb was providing. Yet, Jacob seemed to be as cruel as ever. Pulling his hand away right before you could grind yourself against it.

God, you were going to need so much therapy after all of this...

Huffing through your nose, you watched with wet, fearful eyes as he removed his bare hand and returned with the hand wielding the knife. Holding it by the blade-end skillfully as he brought it between your quivering thighs and held it inches away from your cunt.

Quickly shaking your head, you pleaded, "Please, for the love of God, Jacob... I'll let you kill me, just any other way than t-that."

The tears that'd welled up in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks as you tried not to sob and hyperventilate.

Jacob didn't move as he glanced up at you with a cold, halting expression.

"Stop your whining, pup. I'm not going to hurt you. At least, not in the way you're thinking..."

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Shaking in the chair, you could only watch as Jacob finally moved. Pushing the handle of the knife against your mound and moving it up and down your slit. Every so often, he would pause at your opening just so he could push the slightest amount of the end of the handle inside of you. Fucking you once, twice, three times with the first few inches of the handle before pulling out. Smearing your arousal all over your slit and clitoris till your thighs shook and your mouth finally parted. A soft cry left you as he continued to work you over with the end of the knife.

"J-Jacob..." You panted, glancing at his face and back to the blade between your legs.

"Shh... it's okay. I know whatcha need, Dep'."

Now, Jacob was only grinding the edge of the blade against your wet slit before he finally brought his other hand over. Using his thumb again, Jacob circled and worked your hypersensitive clit until you were openly whining and moaning. Your body finally gave in and writhed for him within its bindings as you pleaded for more with red, flushed eyes.

By all means, you shouldn't have been this close to cumming because of Jacob Seed, of all people in Hope County.

Yet, you couldn't hold your orgasm off any longer.

With a disappointed and wanton cry, your hips began to rock back and forth as you desperately fucked yourself against Jacob's hand and knife. Thick, muscular thighs quivering as waves of pleasure began to overtake you. Thankfully, he didn't stop moving and was at least kind enough to help you ride it out. Continuing to stroke and grind against your moving mound till you begged him to stop. Transparent and slick cum covering not only his hand and knife but your thighs and the chair as well.

"Good girl~" Jacob cooed whilst wiping his knife clean on the front of his pants.

"Was it that hard to just give in?"

Yes.

Yes, it absolutely fucking was, you thought to yourself.