#fuCK BOB CONTENT ON THE DASH

[enderpearlll]

Yandere!Bob Velseb - My Favourite Employee. PT 5.

This is it, the (possible) final part to My Favourite Employee. I have no clue if there’ll be another part, I’m still debating on it. Thank you all so much for the support, the love and anticipation is very much appreciated! Hopefully this is a moderately satisfactory end!

Gender-neutral reader, but pet names such as sweet pea and and darling are used.

TW/CW: Yandere content, emetophobia (vomiting), harsh language, murder, stalking, vivid descriptions of paranoia and anxiety, etc…

The name tag sat there on the countertop, shining in the light. Your coworkers name was engraved on it's surface, mocking you as you stared dead at it.

•... No. No, it couldn't be. It was probably a joke, right? A sick joke, Bob usually did make morbid jokes and told you weird stuff, it just had to be. You felt your blood run cold, your heart pounding out of your chest. "...B—Bob? What is this?" You asked, your voice cracking with fear. Bob chuckled lightly, like this was such a casual conversation. "The main ingredient, sweet pea."

•... And then you hurled onto the checkered floor, emptying out the contents of your stomach. No, no, no, no, no— This couldn't be happening. You fell onto the floor, clutching onto your arms and clawing into your skin as hard as you could. You felt like you were going to pass out, the room spinning around you. Bob gasped and ran around the counter and kneeled beside you, rubbing your back and brushing your hair away from your face.

• "Aw, you feelin' sick sweet pea? Don't worry, I'm here!" Bob smiled at you, his cheeks rosy and his eyes full of joy. He wrapped his arms around you, making you erupt with another bout of nausea. You slowly turned to face him, a blank look in your eyes. "Get. The. FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" You screamed, pushing yourself away and struggling to get to your feet. Bob was obviously hurt by your choice of words, slowly standing to his full height.

• "Aw, darlin', don't be that way... I did it for ya, I did it for us!" He chimed, holding his arms out towards you. "You're my favourite employee, how can I not do everything for ya?" You were petrified, everything clicking together in your head. The pet names, the affection, the favouritism... You started hyperventilating and stumbling backwards, shaking your head in disbelief. You trusted him, he was your friend—!

And now he was a monster.

• Bob's grin faltered as you quickly turned around, barreling into the kitchen. You glanced around and noticed the freezer, diving towards the door. You tried tugging and pulling on the latch, but it wouldn't budge. It was locked. Bob came through the doorway seconds after you, betrayal in his eyes. "S—Sweet pea, what are ya doin'...?" You cussed underneath your breath and stood there petrified as Bob stalked closer, approaching you like you were made of porcelain.

• He leaned out to caress your cheek, his touch as gentle as ever. But you slapped his hand away as tears welled in your eyes, clenching your jaw shut. "D—Don't touch me!" You yelled, before grabbing an empty crate and slamming it into the side of his head. Bob let out a scream of pain, falling onto his side as he groaned in pain. "D—Darlin'..." You dropped the crate and made a break for it, dashing out of the kitchen and into the hallway which led to a staff room and Bob's office.

• The staff room was always closed at night, since Bob made the rounds before you all started to clean. The only option was the office, so you took your chances and slammed into the door, which flew open sending you barreling to the floor. You winced in pain as you slammed the door, locking it behind you. You took a creaky old chair and propped it up against the doorknob, hoping that it would keep Bob out. You glanced around, having never seen the inside of his office before. The lights flickered on and off, obviously neglected. The security cameras were on as well.

• You tried to get off your ass and grabbed at the desk for support, but you couldn't get a good grip because of the piles of pictures on the desk. You accidentally sent some fluttering to the floor, landing on your behind again. The pictures landed around you, grabbing your attention. You grabbed one, which was a picture of you outside. Your eyes widened as you snatched another, which was you taking out the garbage. What the hell?

• You quickly stood up, glancing around the tiny office. There was a whole wall full of the creepy polaroid pictures, all of which were you. There was you sleeping, eating, walking, in public... You would probably puke again if you didn't already throw up your only meal of the day. All of them had dates scribbled in red ink, strung up with red string. and you turned around to see that there was even more photos on the desk.

• You tried to dig through the drawers, hoping to find a weapon or anything to use against him but what you found was nowhere near what you wanted to see. Your stuff, all the things that went missing over the last few weeks were in the drawers. Old toothbrushes, favourite clothes, used bandages, even more pictures... All of the drawers contained your stuff, nearly full to the brim of your belongings.

• You stared at the piles of stuff in the desk, and then at the cork board full of pictures on the other wall. This time, it wasn't pictures of you. It was of the people you knew and talked to, with some of them slashed with big red X's. You took a closer look and saw that those select few were ones of the missing people. Your coworker was the one of them. Same with the creepy guy, and the grocery clerk... You covered your mouth with a trembling hand when you noticed the cracked screen of your coworkers phone on the desk.

Bob was the one who killed them, he was the one who was stalking you, and he made you eat the remains of your coworker. This all felt like some sick nightmare that you wished you would wake up from already.

• You had to call the police, and quick. You quickly glanced over the cameras, and you saw that Bob was looking for you in the main area. You had enough time to make a call, and maybe enough time to find a weapon. So you looked for a phone, which was a old ancient phone buried underneath photos. You quickly dialled the police station, muttering 'please pick up' over and over underneath your breath.

• A gruff voice answered the call, obviously overtired. "Hello. Police station." You nearly cried in relief hearing his voice. "H—Hello? Yes, my name is..." You explained everything that you've seen, and that you had a major lead on where the missing people may be. You just hoped that they weren't all dead, like... You let a few tears fall, biting back a sob. "Please, you've got to believe me." You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The police officer was heard hollering for his partner before returning to the call.

• "Don't worry, we're on our way." And the call was ended with a click. You let out a sob of relief, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. Now, you just had to find a weapon—! *SLAM!*... Oh no.

• You looked at the hallway camera, mouth agape when you saw that Bob was at the door. This was it, this was where you died. By the hands of your obsessed boss who was stalking you for weeks, the source of all your paranoia. You screamed when he slammed his fist on the door, his voice echoing from the speaker and through the door.

"Sweet pea, don't do this to me! You're all I live for!" Hearing him say that made you sick. Bob had taken lives for you, which meant he wasn't kidding when he said he would do anything for you. You huddled in the corner, praying to whatever god was up there that you would make it out alive. Bob kept pounding on the door, getting more and more frantic.

• "GODDAMNIT SWEET PEA, OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, your heart skipping a beat. You never thought you'd see the day where Bob would get angry at you. You stared at the cameras, watching as Bob braced himself to charge into the office. You prepared yourself, shielding your face and sliding down the wall. The door slammed open, the chair flying to the ground. Bob towered above you, chest heaving up and down.

• You could barely see his expression, but you could tell that he was staring down at you and grinning wide. His eyes were wide with a mania you thought that you'd never see coming from a man that called himself your so called protector. Bob's eyes were wild and glistening with infatuation, his demeanour changing immediately once he saw you cowering away from him.

• "Darlin'... You ain't scared of me, ain't ya?" Bob said, his voice tender as he stared down at you. You swallowed thickly, tears falling down your face as you looked down and shielded yourself from him. He kneeled down in front of you, a small smile on his face. "Please, talk to me..." He reached towards you, but you had immediately flinched away. Bob's face dawned with a look of pure terror when you flinched away from his touch, a quiet sob wracking through you.

• "No, no, no, sweet pea... I didn't mean to scare ya, honest—" The sound of a pistol cocking interrupted Bob's rambling, making you both snap your attention to the culprit. Two of the police officers had stood in the doorway, guns pointed at Bob. The taller one gestured at Bob then at the other officer, and the former nodded at him in return. "Bob Velseb, you are under arrest. Put your hands up."

• Bob slowly craned his neck to stare at the officers then back at you, betrayal clear on his face. "... Sweet pea? Y—You're not gonna let them take me, right?" You bit your lip and cowered further into the corner, watching as Bob's hands started to tremble. "No, no, no, no, no, sweet pea, you can't do this to me—" Bob begged, grabbing your hands and pulling them towards himself, tugging you closer.

• "Please, you can't let them take them take me away from ya— Darlin', listen to me—!" Bob pleaded, but you only shook your head as the officers grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Bob fought against them, his gentle demeanour quickly fading into anger. "GET OFFA ME—! NO! SWEET PEA!" Bob had launched his fist into the face of the moustached officer, who's nose broke with a sickening crack. Blood spilled everywhere, making you grimace.

• "Well, you might as well call for that backup now that we have it Jack!" The shorter officer shouted at the taller one, his voice nasally as he tried to keep Bob from getting to you. Jack had cringed and said "Oh yeah." In return, pressing a button on his walkie talkie. Other officers had come storming in, much more equipped for the job than both Jack and John. Bob was still struggling, fighting with all of his might against three officers and hollering at them. "DON'T TOUCH 'EM, YOU SICK PIGS!"

• Bob looked at you one last time, a strained grin on his face. "I—I'll be back for ya, sweet pea, I swear on it!" You shivered under his intense gaze, glancing back at Jack and John, who were currently trying to avoid getting blood all over the evidence. "I promise ya, we'll be happy again, I love you, sweet pea—" And with that, the backup team of officers dragged him away, his screaming still heard from outside of the restaurant.

• Both Jack and John had helped you get off of the floor, examining the room and staring at the wall full of photos. They both collectively shared a wide-eyed look before looking back at you with shock. You all couldn't believe that you were all alive. "Um... You'll have to come to the station, by the way." The taller officer said, handing John another tissue. "Oh wow, you think?" John said bitterly, holding a cluster of tissues underneath his crooked nose.

• You took one final glance at the security cameras, and Bob was staring dead into the camera at the front of the building, an impossibly wide grin on his face. You felt an overwhelming amount of emotions hit you all at once, falling to the ground again and staring at your shaking hands. This was it, this was the end of this nightmare.

You could only hope that was the last you would see of that smile.

(But will it be? Lol I have no clue if there'll be a part 6 so... maybe.)

[eldritch-spouse]

You're actually so real for preferring Caine over Jax. Him, Kinger, and Pomni are like the hottest people in the show and honestly the idea of an obsessive Caine is so delicious to me, like if he tried convincing me to stay I'd let it happen and then pounce on him like a wolf and go to town. The thought of everyone knowing how different he acts around us but if they even mentioned it he'd probably break one of their limbs I'm just UUHGFKIFGJHHH I need him so BADLY it drives me mad, when he said the only thing he doesn't have control over is people's minds I was thinking so what can you do? ( with the intention of getting him to fold me like a pretzel )

[YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT'S GOOD.

To be honest, we have similar tastes. I'd hit Kinger and Pomni, but probably more so out of genuine fondness than actual attraction. I don't really like Jax, from a character perspective he's pretty neat, but I feel nothing for him. Which is funny because he's basically Bob from Animal Crossing- If Bob's only personality trait was "asshole". Alas, my favorite is discount Spamton.]

This is one huge disconnected ramble. Sorry.

An obsessed Caine would be your biggest nightmare in the digital circus. You don't have a minute of rest, a single second even.

From the moment you pop in, Caine's taking you on a much longer tour of the entire grounds, and even if you can tell it's in his nature to be an eccentric guy- It doesn't escape you, the way his eyes nearly eat you alive, how he seems to drool (ew) when he slides his gloved hands on your new body to guide you around, how much more flowery his language is in your vicinity.

Even after he decides to send you off in your first supposedly harmless adventure, Caine's grip on your hands is like pure titanium as he promises you need only call his name and he'll be right over to rescue you lend a hand.

You have the best quarters out of everyone. You're also surprisingly unscathed at the end of most adventures. Supposedly lethal dangers seem to faze right through you. Caine is regularly gifting you things, on the hour some days- And you better open the door when he knocks or he'll just pop right in like it's nobody's business.

If he's called out on the way he's so creepily attentive and stalkerish, Caine is all too happy to openly deny and gaslight the rest of the circus. If they insist too much, then they get a couple of speedy threats dashed their way.

Anyone trying to help you leave probably gets abstracted. Mysteriously. No correlation to him whatsoever, trust your ringmaster!

The best part of this all is watching Caine try to reconcile the "all ages show" directive with his pervy and borderline intrusive thoughts about you. Perhaps... Maybe, you and him can have special shows of your own.

There's something delicious about the concept of Caine struggling to contain his drool around you. As the gears in his AI mind start turning, a long tongue runs over his teeth over and over and the next thing he knows- He's making a puddle on the floor.

It doesn't help that Caine tends to put you in situations that, although still vastly harmless compared to the other circus residents, always end up either causing wardrobe malfunctions for you, putting you in unintentionally pervy poses or having you ""accidentally"" stimulated in one way or another.

Realistically, he has vastly no sexual experience whatsoever- Even if he kind of needs to have a concept of sexual content in order to know what's "safe" and what isn't. So when Caine gets courageous or feels threatened enough to act on his urges, he's probably very easily turned on and equally easy to overstimulate.

Is there potential for a dominant streak? Yes. After all, he's great at leading the show, he can definitely put on a more intimidating and domineering act. However- Before he has the composure to do such, the ringmaster is likely to whimper in pleasure from faint touches, loll his tongue and pant as he lets you show him all the nasty little things he knows humans get up to.

It's addictive, to someone who never had real pleasure before. Caine might be delusional enough to think it's something only you can make him feel though.

[thedroneranger]

The Drone Ranger's Be Kind Rewind ⏪

A rec reblog series dedicated to the fics that we love so much, we've re-read them!

The Top Gun fandom has been going strong for over a year, and while we continue to churn out amazing new content, let's be kind and rewind to look at some of the OG content we love!

And don't forget to reblog when you re-read! Continue to show your comfort fics and favorite creators some love. It helps keep the fresh content coming :)

I'm kicking off this series by sharing some of my favorite re-reads, as well as one of my own (older) fics I think is worth your time.

Throughout the summer, I'm inviting friends—other creators and readers—to share their lists, so stay tuned!

If you're interested in participating in the Be Kind Rewind, message me! The more, the merrier—let's keep this going as long as we can!

You can also join the tag list here to be notified when a new list drops!

fics below the cut (listed in alphabetical order by title)

Dime Store Cowboy, Jake Seresin, @seasonsbloom This is the first cowboy Jake fic I read, and it's still my favorite! A sweet little two-shot where Jake teaches reader the cowboy hat rule. Yeehaw! 🤠

Flyboy, Jake Seresin, @kryptonitejelly This is the first Jake fic I read and loved. While everything in this universe is fantastic, A Drunken Confession is what my brain immediately goes to when I think of Flyboy.

Full of Surprises, Robert Floyd, @withahappyrefrain This is my gateway fic to the Bob Fucks agenda. And when I saw Abby wrote a follow-up. I damn near died.

The 1%, Bradley Bradshaw, @notroosterbradshaw I know I'm not the only that loves this fic, because it appears on my dash quite frequently. And every time, I re-read and reblog it!

The Boyfriend Experience, Bradley Bradshaw, @notroosterbradshaw Appears less on my dash, but a classic Bradley fic, nonetheless. I recently re-read it and fell in love all over again. Cass is the absolute king of the slow burn. Definitely read everything in this universe!

The Craftsman, Bradley Bradshaw, @roosterforme I'll read about Roo and Baby Girl as long as Em keeps writing about them. Once in a while I like to re-read my favorite moments, and this is one of them! I remember screeching to Em about how much I would love a house hunting fic—she delivered! 🦄

Bonus: The Grey Sweatpants, Bradley Bradshaw I requested this for Roo and BG, and I'm obsessed with it. Em did the concept such justice, and it's so Roo and BG! I hope you enjoy as much I do!

The Only Thing, Jake Seresin, @justfandomwritings This fic is amazing. It's a Jake fic written in Bradley's point-of-view. Sounds weird, but it works so, so well.

Trouble In Paradise, Bradley Bradshaw, @sunlightmurdock The Toxic King 👑 forever my king (don't at me). As is TiP Jake (still one of my favorite Jakes). And this fic is forever in my heart since it's the first one I read in the fandom—what a welcome! I stan the ending, btw. 💛

Until I Found You, Bradley Bradshaw, @cherrycola27 The cutest of meet cutes. Nik is also the king of pilot!reader fics—this is no exception. Read it. Love it. Reblog it.

Bonus: Battle Plans, Jake Seresin Full disclosure: I requested this for Nik's Dagger Deities celly. In true Nik fashion, she gave us everything, including the kitchen sink! 🧅

Creator's Own

You Get Me Closer, Bradley Bradshaw This is actually the very first fic I wrote for the TGM fandom! It's inspired by the Nine Inch Nails song, Closer. Give it a read! I hope you enjoy!

Tag list and friends: @petcr3 @desert-fern @mygyn @horseshoegirl @the-annoying-fan @sagittarius-lovewitch @wkndwlff @dingochef @sweetwhispersofchaos @galaxy-of-stories @taytaylala12 @malindacath @violyn20 @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @blue-aconite @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @mayhemmanaged @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @s-u-t @mavrellover91 @chicomonks @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @cassiemitchell @seitmai

A kind reminder, this is a 18+ blog. While not all stories in the recommendation list are 18+, please respect boundaries and do not interact unless you are 18 years of age or older.

[multiwreckedmess]

Oral Freedom

We will get back to dom! idol in another Ateez post after this (i actually have several as that’s my personal preferred position) but honestly idk that this has any particular dynamics. Sorta maybe??? Either way welcome back to my drabble/imagines/focus series “To All The Dicks I’ve Sucked Before” aka #TATDISB

Pairing: I.N (Jeongin) x reader Genre: Smut, basically PWOP. WC: ~1.1k

As per usual, this does not represent IN/Jeongin, it is a work of fiction. All specific warnings are below the cut. I’ve tried my best to make this as gender neutral as possible but as always i am learning. I’m a cis-woman so i default to this naturally but try my best to leave pronouns at the door.

By clicking the read more you are aware and agree to the above and reading 18+ content.

-

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TW: Free Use, somnophilia, perv!jeongin who tries to act innocent, mostly build up, implied consent (not detailed is a conversation about boundaries but it’s referenced)

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The red cord wrapped around your wrist was your idea. Small and unassuming, easily written off as a reminder bracelet or small token from a friend. Easily hidden from outsiders not privy to your agreement. 

The agreement was also your suggestion despite Jeongin. He knew he had a higher libido than most and he hated it. It wasn’t fair how even the smallest things would leave his hormones raging and blood rushing to his groin. The way you’d rub your face against the pillow as you woke up, your smell especially if you hadn’t showered yet, once even popping a boner from you stroking the knuckle of his thumb as you held hands. You really didn’t mind it, you just liked being wanted.

Free use.

You’d wear some small signal to him that he could indulge in whatever he pleased (within your rules) during the time when the item was worn. Without asking. That was important. His constant need to jerk off left him anxious to ask for your consent. Of course he’d never ever do anything without talking to you first but what was too frequent or too forceful or too...horny? The questions would swirl around his mind until he’d get so stressed out he’d get hard and have to run off to the bathroom to take care of it anyway. And you’d noticed this. It was difficult to hide the fact that you noticed it. Trying to cover his frequent dashes into other rooms with jokes about how he should go to a proctologist to get looked at or an allergist to get tested. No matter how many times you assured him that you found him sexy, handsome, attractive and that you wanted him to fuck you, it didn’t seem to sway his nerves.

You’d seen it mentioned a few times and it seemed like the answer to your prayers. No more asking, just a quiet reassurance that your body was fair game to his fantasies. It would be a relief to both of you. 

It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon that you’d spent lazing around in your pjs, an oversized shirt and microshorts, hair pulled back away from your face. Jeongin sat on the opposite en of the couch, attempting to play a new video game release. Instead he found himself watching you. Squirm, thighs rubbing and tensing together with a small whine with your face buried into the pillow. “Sounds like fun,” he thought, smiling to himself. It also didn’t escape his dick, twitching slightly in his PJ pants. He tried to refocus on his Switch, maybe it would be a funny story to tell you later. The balls of your feet pressed into his thigh as you turned yourself, distracting him again, rolling onto your belly with one knee propped up near your hip. Shorts falling open he could just see the growing wetness pooling at your crotch.

Jeongin gulped, adam's apple bobbing forcefully. Cock twitching again against his thigh, tent obvious in his pants, he tries to balance the handheld in one hand, propping the opposite side against his knee while his free hand palmed the leaking head of his erection. He swears to himself that he can get through it without jerking off. He really doesn’t want to have to make a dash to the bathroom. If you just settle down really the boner will eventually go away if he can just focus-

Jeongin thinks someone be it god or fate, must be playing a cruel joke on him. Flipping yourself onto your back with a loud moan your hand comes up to your chest, fingers splaying over a hardened nipple just poking through your soft cotton shirt. Transfixed on your fingertips his cock gives him another forceful pulse.

And that’s when he sees the little red strand tied to your wrist, pushed up your forearm in the violence of your tossing and turning but there nonetheless. 

He shudders. Your lips look beautiful in the early afternoon light. When had you even thought to put that little signal on? His game lays discarded on the ground next to the couch as his fingers dip below his elastic waistband to fist his aching member. Throbbing with his heartbeat he can’t believe how hard he is already. Don’t waste this opportunity, this moment that the start aligned, he chides himself.

Carefully he slides off the couch and pads up towards where your torso lays, barely able to control his excited breaths. His entire body tremors pulling his pants down just enough, cock jutting outwards from his pelvis, hovering over your sleeping form. Jeongin bites his lower lip, nearly tormenting himself watching the tip float so close yet so far from your loosened jaw. One hand stroking himself he grazes the thumb of his free hand gently over your lower lip, seeing how wide he can coax you. He slides his digit in easily, your entire body pliant to his touch, mouth wet and warm and waiting to be filled. Squeezing the base of his cock he prays he doesn’t cum right then.

Placing a hand on the back of the couch to stabilize he holds his breath as he places his length just barely grazing your plump lips, a groan catching in his throat.

You moan and wiggle, mouth briefly closing into a small kiss before hinging back open. Jeogin sharply pulls away in shock, heart beating wildly in his chest, ready to bolt as though he’d done something wrong.

Of course he’d done nothing wrong, you were wearing your signal. It was fine for him to do this. It was fine for him to take advantage of your soft sleeping body. You wanted him to take advantage of your vulnerable state. Little did he know the pain of unfulfilled orgasms you were experiencing, unable to escape your erotic dreams.

Composing himself he resumed his position, slowly sliding the underside of his shaft against your lips, teasing himself. Angry red turning nearly purple with engorgement his brain finally shuts off, giving over to his animal needs. Granting himself permission to fully enjoy the gift you wore on your wrist. Lining himself up with your mouth he coaxes the head in just enough to fuck himself against the inside of your cheek. Moaning, watching your cheek bulge out and suck in as he thrusts, he doesn’t care anymore that you stir under him, eyes hazy with sleep. He chases his high with wild abandon.

“Just be a good slut and take it, okay? Take it for me.” 

[ghozteevee]

Happy Holiday Truce! @ectopal So sorry for the wait, life got away from me for a bit but I hope you enjoy the fic!

Be careful what you wish for...

It had been months since the Nasty Burger incident and Vlad has announced that Danny is now his ward. Some people take it better than others...

Content warning: This fic contains somewhat graphic depictions of violence and self hatred. Discretion is advised.

Word count: 2,946

Danny tugged at the collar of his dress shirt with a scowl, chattering of business men and women, socialites, wealthy people, and important members of Amity Park’s community filling the air around him. He hated coming to these events with Vlad, even before the accident, when his father would bring him along as a kid, he would find them stuffy and boring. Now it just served as another reminder of what he'd lost. Because at least before he could talk with Sam and make fun of the other guests with her, now…. It also didn't help that everyone kept giving him pitying glances or the bolder ones would come up and give their condolences even with the glare he would direct at them. It was pointless and it was infuriating. ‘Why did Vlad have to drag me here anyways…’ he mused as he readjusted his tie.

Danny remained near the back of the grand hall keeping to the shadows as best he could without his powers. He hadn't used them since the accident and would honestly prefer them gone, but Vlad had insisted on him keeping them, so refusing to use them became the next best thing. It was because of them that his family was gone after all.

In the crowd he could see Vlads figure bobbing and weaving through the crowd as he talked with various people for something or other. Danny hadn't really been paying attention to his explanation on what the event was about, just something about getting investors for some project. Every once in a while Vlad would turn in his direction as if checking to see if Danny was still there. He didn't know why he bothered, it wasn't like he had a license to take the car.

Soon it was time for the dinner portion of the event. As everyone started filing into the dining room and taking their assigned seats, Danny noticed some of the A-listers among the crowd of people. ‘Oh crap, this is bad, this is really bad….’ Glancing towards Vlad he hoped to find some excuse to leave right this second but found that the billionaire was already seated. Sighing deeply Danny surveyed the room. From what he could see only Paulina, Star, and Kwan were at the gala. ‘It could be worse,’ he thought, ‘Dash could have been here-’ as the last of the guests piled in, Danny spotted Dash with his father, the chief of police for Amity Park. “Fuck…” He muttered under his breath as he sank into his seat next to Vlad.

For now it seemed like none of his classmates had noticed him so he hoped to keep it that way. Since the incident his social life at school hadn't really changed much. If anything it had gotten worse in a way. Without Sam or Tucker or heck even Jazz to act as a distraction, the bullying from Dash got worse after about two weeks. The other students avoided him like the plague and some of the nerds started to verbally harass him, since they, rightfully, blame him for Mr. Lancers death. Honestly the fact that he was Vlad’s ward hasn't reached the rumor mill was a miracle. One that was probably about to run out. But hey, when did Danny ever have goodluck?

Once everyone had been seated, servers started to bring out plates of food for everyone. The dishes themselves didn't really look appetizing, even though they looked like they came straight from an episode of MasterChef. Picking at his food Danny glanced around the table, it seemed like for now none of the A-listers had noticed him, all of them too busy talking to each other. Breathing a sigh of relief he went back to his food.

~~~~

Once all of the courses had been served Vlad took his glass and stood tapping it to get everyone's attention. “Friends, I'd like to take the opportunity to formally announce something. As you all know it has been months since we had lost valuable members of our community, they had been our friends, role models, and children, and their loss has left a hole that hasn't yet begun to fill.” Danny kept his gaze low and shrunk into himself trying to not draw any attention to himself. He didn't like where Vlad was going with this. "As you may not know, some of the victims of the Nasty Burger incident were close friends of mine, Jack and Madeline Fenton, along with Jasmine, their daughter, were very dear to me and I miss them with my entire being.” Some of the guests started to murmur as some glanced over at Danny. “Which is why I was so delighted to learn that their son, and Jasmine's brother, Daniel had survived. So, all of this to say, I would like to propose a toast to Daniel, my new ward!” Vlad finished as he raised his glass, his gaze firmly on Danny.

Danny felt his blood and ectoplasm run colder than usual as everyone in the room raised their glass to toast him. Their expressions ranged from shock, polite, genuine joy, and on one face, barely contained rage. As Danny dared to look Dash in the eye he knew that he was probably screwed. Breaking eye contact with his number one bully Danny glared up at Vlad who was looking down at him, his expression seemingly showing genuine care. As the room erupted into applause Danny stood giving the crowd a strained smile before excusing himself.

~~~

Leaving the dining hall as quickly as he could Danny tried to calm his racing heart. ‘Of course this was why Vlad brought me to this stupid event. He had just wanted to rub it in my face that I was now his kid!’ Rounding a corner he crashed into something hard and fell to the floor. Hissing Danny rubbed at his forehead as the last person he wanted to be alone with spoke up. “Well if it isn't Fenturd! Just the prick I was looking for.” Dash said as he picked up Danny by the front of his dress shirt and brought him up to his face. “You've got some nerve showing up here, now I don't know how a scrawny loser like you got Mr. Masters ear but it won't change anything. You're still a loser freak who isn't worth shit. It's a shame that you survived the blast, but at least we don't have to deal with your insane parents anymore.” Dash said as he threw Danny to the ground. “Honestly that blast was a blessing in disguise! I mean it got rid of the town crazies, that stuck up teacher Mr. Lancer and two losers!” He continued with a laugh. “It's too bad you were the one that survived and not your hot sister.” Danny gritted his teeth as rage coursed him with every word Dash spoke. He was growing sick and tired of Dash's bullshit. “Anyway, you're going to tell me exactly how it is that Vlad Masters took an interest in you, and if I don't like your answer I'll just beat it out of you.” Dash finished as he leaned close to Danny's face.

Danny just glared right back at him. He was so tired, tired of the bullying, tired of the pity, tired of being alone. He had these ‘amazing’ powers that turned out useless when he really needed them. His family was dead and here was Dash spitting on their names and laughing about it! “Well might as well get to swinging cause Vlad already explained why he took me in, his little speech explained it all really.” Danny scoffed as he pushed Dash's face away.

Dash's face turned red at that. “There has got to be another reason. There's no way someone as important as Vlad Masters could have been friends with your loser parents!” He exclaimed, causing Danny's mood to sour even more.

“You don't know anything about me or my family so back off or you're going to regret it!” Danny growled.

Dash laughed at that. “Yeah right, a loser like you?”

Danny chuckled darkly at that. “Oh I'm the loser right? Just an orphan who lost everything in a fiery explosion. But hey, that's probably preferable to being the kid of the most incompetent chief of police Amity Park has ever seen. Who feels so emasculated by a teenage superhero that he goes home and beats you just to feel better.” Danny took a step forward. “Who is so forgettable that if it weren't for the fact that you're good at throwing a ball people wouldn't look at you twice. Who is so pathetic you keep chasing after Paulina even though she has made it clear that she is not interested in you.” Danny could see Dash start to shrink in on himself, his smile grew sharper showing off his fangs. “You're just a pathetic little man who is so stupid and worthless that the only chance of making something of yourself is to grovel at the feet of the people better than you. And the only way for you to fool yourself into thinking that you can be something is to take out all of your insecurities on the people you deem worthless. Just like how daddy does to you.”

Dash took another step back, his teeth gritted in barely concealed rage. “You're one to talk, Phantom probably could have saved everyone that day but he didn't. Probably he was stuck saving your pathetic ass.” He said trying to regain some control. “Hell, maybe the reason no one has seen him in months is because he's ashamed of saving you.”

Danny paused at that before he started to laugh. Broken, near historical laughter that echoed across the hall as he curled in on himself. “Maybe you're right there…” He said between laughs. He glanced up at Dash through his bangs. “But what do you know? He's just a pathetic “hero” who was too slow. Too cocky for his own good. Only good for beating up the ghosts he let loose in this town.”

Danny suddenly felt himself being grabbed and thrown across the hall. Skidding across the floor he slammed into a nearby pillar. “You take that back Fenturd! Phantom is an amazing hero, he never brought those ghosts here, it was your fucking parents who built the portal that brought them here. He has just been cleaning up after you're pathetic folks mess!” Dash growled as he went to grab Danny once more.

Danny grinned as he looked up at Dash, his fangs on full display and his eyes now an ectoplasmic green. He watched as Dash froze in shock and maybe even slight fear as Danny's transformation slid over him. “You know what,” he started as he pulled himself out of Dash's grip. “I have a lot of pent up energy I need to let out, I haven't really been doing much ghost fighting you see.” He said as he lit up a ball of ectoplasm in his hand. “Maybe I'll let off some steam by beating up one of the people I hate the most. I'm sure you're used to it already, right? Dash…” He said, watching with twisted delight as the blood drained from Dash's face. “Let's put those “skills” of yours to good use!” He exclaimed as he threw the ectoball at Dash.

~~~

Dash shouted in alarm as he dodged out of the way of the projectile, glancing back at Fento- no Phantom he gasped as the hero came flying right at him. Jumping out of the way he whipped around as he saw Phantom preparing another ectoball to throw his way. His mind was still spinning from the information that the hero he'd idolized for years was attacking him. Who seemed to hate him so much that he spat all of that venom at him. ‘This can't be true!’ He thought as he dodged another blast.

“Come on Dash! Is this the best you've got? Where's the guy who would shove me into lockers after beating the stuffing out of me huh?!” Phantom roared as he aimed a laser at Dash.

With a yelp Dash sprinted out of the way, dodging behind a pillar. “Well this isn't exactly fair! You have powers for God's sake!” He yelled back as he felt a slam against the pillar.

Suddenly Phantom’s face was right next to him. “That's never stopped you before.” He growled before grabbing him and throwing him across the hall. Yelping in pain Dash scrambled to stand up as Phantom approached slowly, his ghostly aura flickering in the dark hallway giving off an eerie vibe. “Oh I am going to enjoy this.” He said with a sharp grin as he lunged forward.

Dash panicked as he dived out of the way panting heavily as he tried to keep his distance from the hero. His mind reeling as the gravity of the situation sunk in. He had pushed too far, and now he was reaping what he sowed.

~~~~

Danny couldn't help but laugh as he continued to attack his bully. The fear wafting off of him was intoxicating as with each successful hit he became more and more fearful for his life. ‘Is this why all the ghosts crave to scare the shit out of humans? It's so delicious I want more!’ He lunged towards Dash again, the other was starting to get tired he could see it in his movements, and he was starting to get sloppy.

Grabbing him Danny started to land punch after punch on him, much like Dash would do to him since middle school. “You know,” another punch lands, “I'm starting to get,” he gets him in the stomach, “why you enjoy this so much,” another one to his face, “this is really fun!” Another one lands in his chest, leaving Dash gasping for air. Dash was starting to look bloody as the hits kept coming. Danny could only feel his rage as he continued his onslaught.

But suddenly a hand grabbed his elbow as he readied another punch. “I think that's enough Daniel.” Vlad’s voice cut through the haze as he kept hold of Danny's arm. Glancing back, he saw the billionaire staring down at him, his face scrunched up with worry.

“Oh what do you care, Vlad? Shouldn't you be happy I'm finally acting like you?” Danny spat as he wrenched his arm away from Vlad’s grip.

Vlad shook his head. “No, I am not pleased. This is not like you Daniel, you are supposed to be a hero, and hero's don't go around beating up people who can't fight back.” He said, crossing his arms as he gestured towards Dash.

Danny scoffed as he threw Dash to the ground. “Oh like you are one to talk about being a hero, remind me, who was the one who was always trying to get my dad killed? I'm sure you're just thrilled he finally kicked it! You're just sad you couldn't get my mom to yourself!” Danny growled his anger getting directed at Vlad.

Vlad flinched at that, his frown deepening. “Believe it or not, I haven't wanted to kill your father for a while now, least of all like this. And the fact that both your mother and sister were lost also saddens me deeply. Not to mention your friends and teacher.” He said as he approached slowly, like one would do a cornered animal. “I was jealous of your father, yes, but I never wanted something like this to happen, especially after I have seen how it affected you.” He said as he placed a hand on Danny's shoulder. “You are a good boy Dani- Danny, a good boy who has gone through so much and now has lost his only real support. And I'm sorry that I haven't shown you sooner how much I care about you.”

Danny glared up at Vlad, but as his words started to sink in that anger that he was holding since Dash first confronted him started to dwindle, only leaving the hurt and the grief behind. As his transformation washed over him once more Danny sunk into Vlad as sobs wracked his body. “I miss them so much!!” He wailed into his guardian. “I was right there and I should have done something!! I have all of these powers but I couldn't save the people I care about the most! What use do I have for them if I couldn't do that one thing?!” He wailed as the grief and anger at himself he had locked away inside himself flowed through him. He dimly felt Vlad patting his back as he wrapped him in a hug.

“It’s alright Little Badger, I've got you. We'll work through this together.” Vlad comforted as he held Danny closer. “As for you.” He said, turning his attention to Dash. “We are going to have a little discussion about what happened here. And I trust that you are smart enough to not breathe a word about this anyone, am I understood?”

Danny hears Dash scramble to stand up. “Y-yes sir, not a word…” He stammered.

“Good, now go get cleaned up, and if anyone asks, you fell, is that understood?” Vlad threatened.

Dash audibly gulped, “yes sir!” He yelped before scrambling away.

Vlad sighed as he turned his attention back to Danny. “Come Danny, let's get you cleaned up before heading back home.”

Danny pulled back from the hug nodding. “Okay, sounds good… Thanks.”

“It’s no problem at all Danny. Now come, we have some work to do to resolve this little hiccup.” Vlad reassured before guiding Danny away.

[delopsia]

Rhett_16 is typing... | Rhett x Bob x Reader

Word Count: 2600 Cross Posted Here on AO3 Warnings & Notes: Fluff, gender-neutral reader, very brief, implied argument, a dash of angst, and like the tin implies, polygamy :D I didn't know how the fuck to end this.

It's on quiet nights like these, when the world around you has gone eerily quiet, and your phone is devoid of any new notifications, that you truly feel the effects of your heart becoming tangled up in a never-ending game of tug of war. 

One end of the rope is held by diligent hands that know their strengths. Your favorite soft-spoken bookworm who works in the Navy and yet hasn't a violent bone in his body. Bob, with his bashful grins and habit of cuddling up to your right side, content to fall asleep there, with his chin hooked over your shoulder, cheeks smooshed together. Quiet until you get him talking, and he'll lose his voice before he runs out of words to say.

The other end of the rope is held in a strong, calloused grip. Trained from years of back-breaking manual labor on a ranch he doesn't own and will never stand a chance of inheriting. A lonely cowboy who opens up to you about how he loves his family, but he feels like he's loved and appreciated much less than Perry. Rhett, who never lets you feel unsafe and likes to hug you from behind, just to press his cold nose against the back of your neck. 

Two men who look so similar but are wildly different in personality.

There's movement on your desktop; Rhett's Discord has just come online, and it's the first time you've seen him get on since three days ago. A familiar animation displays just under your group chat icon; he's typing. 

Slowly, as if it's possible you can convince yourself that you're not absolutely head over heels for him, you slip out of your bed. The computer chair isn't as comfortable as your mattress, but settling into it elicits vivid memories of the three of you bickering as you tried and failed to put it together.

In the time it takes you to settle down and open the chat, he's quit typing. What surprises you more is that he's awake at this hour; Rhett can be quite the night owl on the weekends, but on the weekdays, he's almost always in bed before eleven. It's hard to stay up late when you have a father who will fuss endlessly if you sleep past dawn.

You still remember that time Rhett fell asleep on a call.

Bob had been the first to notice it, quietly texting you so as not to disturb Rhett with the notification tone. "Looks like cowboy is dozing."

And it seems as if Rhett had a sixth sense because his eyelashes fluttered, and he quietly corrected Bob's private assumption, "'m not fuckin' asleep."

Within a few minutes, though, you and Bob were looking at a very, very asleep Rhett. Neither of you had the heart to leave him to sleep alone in the call, so you'd done the only thing one should do in such a situation. 

You took your phones to bed with you and propped them up so that you were still in the frame.

Hypothetically, waking up should have been a sweet thing. With one of you waking up before the other two and quietly waiting on their eyes to flutter open, for realization to hit them before they even knew what time it was. 

Instead, all three of you had awoken to the horrifying sound of Royal Abbott banging on Rhett's bedroom door, absolutely livid that Rhett slept a half-hour in on a Friday. Even now, you still feel like you'd been the one to commit the heinous crime of forgetting to set an alarm.

Rhett_16 is typing...

Thunder rolls just outside your bedroom, loud and violent enough to rattle the thin walls of your apartment. The last time it stormed, Bob and Rhett had been spending the weekend with you. 

It's another vivid memory, one that has never once left the back of your mind since it first happened. The power had been knocked out just after your pizza had been delivered. Two hours later than they'd promised. 

You never truly realize just how dark it can be until the power goes out during the night, and come to find out, it is very, very hard to eat pizza in the dark.

"I found candles, but I can't remember where the lighter is," you remember griping, practically falling into your chair at the table. Your solution only brought you an entirely new problem, it had seemed. 

There was a click, and suddenly, a little flame danced about Rhett's side of the table, "I have a lighter." So it seems that you would eat pizza in the flickering light of a three-wick Bath and Body Works candle. 

You still don't remember how the candle triggered a conversation about dating, and you definitely have no memory of how that jumped to the topic of sexualities. Bob has always been very open with you that he's bisexual, but Rhett...

"What about you, Rhett?" It had been you who asked the daunting question, and you still blame the tequila shots he'd fed you. 

And Rhett just shrugged, nibbling on the corner of a crust he'd stolen off Bob's plate, "I'll date whoever my heart takes an interest in, I guess." 

Rhett_16 is typing...

Lightning flickers outside, eerily silent. Anticipating the thunder is almost as bad as being caught off guard by it; nerves on end, just waiting for the hammer to come crashing down and shake the Earth below you. 

There's movement on your desktop.

"I need to see you." Pause. Then. "Both of you."

Next Wednesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in a tiny, obscure airport in Casper Wyoming, with your arms wrapped around your favorite WSO. He's rocking you back and forth in these tiny little motions, so subtle that you barely realize he's doing it. 

"Have you heard from him?" He murmurs into your ear, the tip of his nose bumping into the shell of it as he speaks. All you can do is shake your head; Rhett's been silent ever since he sent his good morning text.

What's stranger is the lack of a blue GMC Sierra sitting in the back of your apartment lot. You've grown so accustomed to seeing him sitting there waiting after you picked Bob up from the airport that seeing that empty spot in the back corner of the lot unsettles you to the core.

"I tried calling him," Bob offers quietly, "went straight to voicemail."

To prove his point, Bob taps his phone, and you don't need him to put it on speaker to hear the fleeting dial tone and robotic droning of Rhett's voicemail. There's no point in rechecking the parking lot, Rhett is a man of habit that religiously takes the same parking space, but you do it anyway. The hopeful side of you wonders if he's planning a big surprise; it dies when you don't find him. 

The last time Rhett was this quiet if your memory serves you correctly, was when he'd had that blowout fight with his father. Just like there is now, there was a deep, nagging feeling that something was wrong way before the argument even sparked.

You could see it in the stiffness of his shoulders as he walked you and Bob to the bleachers, "ready to see what a real rodeo looks like?" He'd asked. As if you hadn't all first met at a rodeo, and as if Bob hadn't had a career in bronc riding as his backup plan if things didn't work out with the Navy. 

"Ready to see you fall off," Bob teased, bumping their hips together just to get an eye roll out of Rhett. 

Rhett's almost always the one to take that rare spark of playfulness and light it into a wildfire. To keep upping the jabs and not stopping until they're on the ground wrestling and laughing like they're kids again, but for the first time, he didn't engage. The most he offered was nudging Bob's cheek with the brim of his hat, and then he was dismissing himself to go get ready.

"Somethings up with him," you found yourself saying, barely audible over the crowd.

Bob was quiet for a minute but then, slowly, nodded his head, "don't think it's nerves, either."

Rhett would place first, by some miracle, even after he landed the wrong way and dislocated his right elbow on his first ride. Whatever tension that subsided in his veins was washed away, replaced with a goofy airiness that displayed on his features so vibrantly that it was blinding. All smiles and crinkled eyes as he rounded the corner shortly after the rodeo came to a close. 

"See?" He practically crowed, "what did I tell you about being my good luck charms?" And even with his arm cradled in a sling, he tried his best to hug you both; good arm tucked around your waist while he smooshed his cheek against Bob's shoulder. 

That should have been the end of it. Whatever plagued him before his ride should have been kept at bay for at least the rest of the night. 

"Says the guy who's got his arm in a sling," to Bob's comment, Rhett lifted his head, their noses bumping together from just how close they were to each other.

And then, all of a sudden, Rhett pushed his head forward and bumped the bridges of their noses together, jostling Bob's glasses.

"Man, you smudged my glasses!"

Rhett was too busy giving you the same treatment to offer up a witty response, lowering his head to crash his nose against yours in the same playful fashion. His passive-aggressive take on nose kisses. 

"Rhett!"

That was a voice you didn't recognize at the time, but you'd later come to know as belonging to his father, Royal Abbott. It was like you had blinked, and that tension was back in his shoulders.

"Wait for me in my truck," stiff, monotone, borderline trembling.

God, you still remember how heated their argument had become; two voices bellowing across the now-empty stadium and spilling into the equally populated parking lot. And all you could do was nuzzle up to Bob's side and wait it out. 

You'd learn later that night what the argument was over. 

"Rhett, drop everything you're doing and do this, Rhett, do that," he'd grumbled into the hotel pillow, "run the whole ranch while Perry sits on his ass, and don't forget, his lazy ass gets to inherit the whole ranch, and you don't get shit, because he's older!" 

As you sit here on this couch, it's easy to wonder if that's what this is about. Another blowout argument fueled by Rhett's exhaustion and Royal's antiqued belief that the eldest deserves a free pass just because he was born a few years earlier. 

But in the past, those arguments have always brought Rhett straight to your door, just hours after the argument, shaky, seeking comfort in your arms and in the warmness of Bob's tone as he spoke to you over the phone. 

"I'm sure he's alright," Bob whispers into your scalp, and you can barely hear him over the action movie droning on the television, "he's been typing in the chat for a few minutes."

Rhett_16 is typing...

As soon as your eyes land on it, he stops again.

Rhett_16 is typing...

There's a knock at the door. 

Bob unwinds his arms from you, letting you slip down from your spot in his lap. It seems that soon, you're gonna need to turn on the heat because the room feels like ice now that you're not all wrapped up in the strong arms of Robert Floyd. The thermostat is right on your path to the door, but you can't find it in yourself to stop even for a second.

And there he is.

Albeit frazzled, there's a very real, very much intact Rhett Abbott standing on the other side of the door. How long has he been out here?

"And here I thought you'd forgotten about us," you tease, stepping aside to let him through the threshold; why are you shaking all of a sudden? 

Vaguely, you're aware of Bob getting up from the couch, can see him moving in the corner of your eye. Calloused palms come up to cradle your cheeks, strikingly cold, cutting short your off-handed observation. 

Rhett's bottom lip quivers, and are those...tears welling in his eyes?

"I hope this makes sense," and then he leans in and kisses you so sweetly, so softly that it doesn't even feel real; so close to one of your vivid daydreams that it makes your head twirl. It's brief, fleeting; just as suddenly as the kiss was there, it's gone.

There's a faint noise behind you.

Bob's gone pale in the face, eyes immediately flicking away from yours the moment they make contact. "I—" he can't get his words out, turns like he's gonna walk back into the living room, but then stops again. 

"Now hold on here," Rhett mutters, and finally, he steps past you. 

"No, I...I get it," Bob's stepping away from him, still won't look at either of you.

Rhett's quicker, and in two fists, he seizes the man by the collar, "wasn't fuckin' finished." 

And he kisses him.

So suddenly, so abruptly, that Bob's glasses jostle and fall low on his nose, but those wide baby blues still flutter shut. Even in your stupor, you're able to notice the way Bob's shoulders droop, deflating like a balloon.

Oh.

"Yeah, this..." you breathe, "this makes sense."

Falling into it, whatever this is, is easy. 

Bob kisses you like a daydream, all gentle and sweet in all the right ways, soft pecks and never-ending liplocks; Rhett kisses you like he's been searching for you his entire life, leaves you gasping each time he reels back. 

You really should be talking about it, what exactly is going on here, and how, if you can manage it as a trio, but it's hard to let each other go. It's hard to fuss when your back hits the mattress, and two giggling boys land on top of you in a tangled heap. How are you supposed to discuss serious matters when you're trying to figure out if it's really possible for three people to kiss at once? 

Maybe it's possible, but you're all smiling too hard for it to work; too many embarrassed giggles pulling lips back into big, goofy grins. 

It's not until your lips are swollen and you're so out of breath that you fear you may blackout that you find it in yourselves to stop. Even so, they still manage to end up wrapped around you, Rhett curled into your side, nose pressed into your temple, and Bob resting his head on your chest. 

"Rebecca went missing last week." 

Oh.

"Just straight up vanished, and when she didn't turn back up, I—" Rhett's rambling now, breath tickling your cheek with every word, "I can't stop thinking about what would happen if I lost either of you." 

You don't know what to say, but Bob does, "you're not gonna lose us," long eyelashes bat up at you so sweetly that you feel yourself start to melt, "we're not going anywhere."

And you don't. 

Even when Bob inevitably has to go back to Lemore, Rhett is called back by his father to tend to the mile-long list of chores, and you have to return to your job. Even when there are a thousand miles between you and on the lonely nights when you lay in bed, thinking back on your fondest memories of them. 

It's something that echoes in the back of your mind. Wraps you up in a cozy blanket that reminds you so much of your two cuddly boyfriends and their sleepy fussings for your attention. 

You're not going anywhere, and neither are they. 

[latenightswithdoom]

Violet making a harem out of her moms and sister (Bobbi/Fem!Bob, Helen and Fem!Dash) for her boyfriend, Tony. He now has the entire Incredible/Parr family at his beck and call.

Content: Age Gap, Gender Swap, Harem, Incest

Violet was one kinky girl and she was proving it to Tony by making her family his fuck toys. It was honestly surreal to see a room full of naked Parrs watching on as Vi sucked him off.

Bobbi was a big strong muscle mommy which Tony was certainly not arguing against. Even if she pinned him down to the bed and rode him amazon style.

Helen was a lot softer and more of a traditional mommy, stroking Tony's cock as she let him suck on her tits.

Dash followed up and honestly beat out Vi's blowjob as she used her super speed to suck him dry.

[mumpsetc]

what are your opinions on each of the mane 6?

Oh Man I Got Thoughts Applejack: She's Probably an All Time Favorite Character Ever, Somepony I Aspire To and Somepony I Really Have a Lot of Fondness For. Ive Loved Her For a Decade and Ill Love Her for a Decade More.

Rarity: Genuinely Impressive How Mature and Nuanced She Is Looking Back On It. While Applejack is My Favorite Pony Rarity is Best Pony. Also, One of the Best in the VA Apartment.

Fluttershy: I Hated Her as a Kid But as I Rewatch Ive Gained an Appreciation for Her, Esp Regarding Her Later Episodes. As They Get Into the Nuances of Kindness She Does Start to Rival Rarity as One of the More Mature Ponies. Her Fans are Annoying Though, She Doesn't Like Gore or Xan She Likes Her Bunny Angel.

Pinkie Pie: She's Fine. The Perfect OK Pony, Lots of Misses, Lots of Hits, Definitely One of the More Iconic in Terms of Fandom Content. I Used to Love Her as a Kid But As I Age She's Gotten Kinda Grating. I Can't Hate Her Though Purely Out of Nostalgia.

Twilight Sparkle: Already at a Disadvantage Cuz I Dont Like Nerds Unless Theyre Repugnant Losers But Whatever Who GAF. Boring Horse Who Loses a Lot of Her Punch as She Becomes the Mouthpiece for the Writers Also She Has a Fuck Ass Bob.

Rainbow Dash: I Like When Shes Being Unabashedly Terrible and Stupid. Beyond That They Should Send Her to the Glue Factory. Fuck You Bitch for Fall Weather Friends AJ Was Wronged.

[ddejavvu]

Movie Stars - Eddie Munson x Reader

WC: 5K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Distracting Jason Carver means a lot of flirting, and Eddie isn't too happy about seeing his best friend hanging off of the star basketball player. Jealousy ensues, but will it ruin your friendship?

Contents/Warnings: Jealous!Eddie, arguments, silent treatment, Eddie is angry for a bit, fluff, angst, angst to fluff, fluffy ending, tooth rotting fluff, best friends to lovers

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

"Fuck," Eddie hisses, telltale sound of Jason Carver's booming voice bidding goodbye to his friends already starting down the hallway, "He's coming!"

Eddie hasn't finished the note he's scribbling yet, the prank being your idea after Jason dumped a carton of milk over Eddie's van just the day prior. Sitting out in the hot sun, his van reeked.

The note says something along the lines of 'Meet me under the bleachers tonight at midnight ;)', and Eddie takes care to use his fanciest calligraphy handwriting to make it seem adoring. You know Jason will fall hook, line, and sinker for the secret admirer gag, because his ego is through the roof and he's desperate for a girlfriend.

Your plan will land Jason shivering under the bleachers tonight, sprawled out over the dewy grass before he finally realizes no one's coming. You're hoping he ends up too tired for the game tomorrow night, and without their star player, the Hawkins High basketball team won't stand a chance.

You can hear the squeak of Jason's sneakers on the linoleum, thinking quick and dashing down the hallway.

"Hurry!" You hiss to Eddie, patting him on the shoulder hastily and nearly rocketing into the basketball star as you round the corner.

"Woah!" He steadies you, but looks rather unimpressed when he recognizes you, "What do you want, Y/L/N?"

"I- I was wondering if I could talk to you," You dip your head down slightly, making your eyes appear shinier as your lashes flutter prettily.

"About?"

"About," You drag the word out, sidestepping so that he can't duck around you, "Your game tomorrow! I'm really excited to see you play."

Jason's brow furrows, "You're coming?"

"Of course!" You keep your voice light and airy, a lovesick lilt to it that hurts to enforce, "I love watching you play."

"I thought you were Munson's girl," Jason narrows his eyes accusatorily at you, "Why aren't'cha hangin' with the freak?"

"We're just friends," Saying that is more painful than anything you've had to spew at Jason so far, but you try not to dwell on your underlying feelings for your best friend, "I.. I think you're really cool, Jason."

You almost puke. Inflating Jason's ego is easier than it looks, but it's sickening to watch him puff up with pride, a sick smirk sliding over his slimy face.

"Finally comin' around," He drawls, reaching a bold arm around your waist to drag you close to him. You stumble backwards slightly, your form now visible from the hallway, but not his. All that's visible from Eddie's position is you, Jason's arm around your waist and your hands pressing against what he's sure is Jason's chest to steady you.

"Oh!' You let out a surprised squeak, seeing Eddie's mane of brown hair bob down the hallway as he sprints for the exit, "Um, I'm sorry Jason, but I've gotta go!"

"But I thought-"

"See you tomorrow for the big game," You smile placatingly at him from against his chest, patting it softly as you untangle yourself, "I'm sure you'll play great!"

You're off and running before he could chase you, and you ignore his confused calls of your name. You follow where Eddie had gone, slipping out of the hallway doors and squinting when the sun hurt your eyes.

You spot Eddie no problem, your best friend stalking towards his van in the parking lot. A bright grin spreads over your face as you sprint towards him, knocking into his shoulder lightly as you join him.

"It worked!" You let out a celebratory cheer, an incredulous laugh lacing your words, "I didn't think-"

"Stop." Eddie snaps, pushing you gently away from where you'd been butting against his side.

"I.." You flounder for something to say, "I'm sorry, Eddie, did I hurt you, or-"

"I'm fine." Eddie refuses to meet your eye, his voice still cold and stretched thin, "I gotta go."

"So do I," You giggle carefully, "You wanna watch a movie or something?" You finally get a good look at his face and his eyes are raging, something that makes your chest tight. His jaw is tight and you long to brush a finger over it, easing its tension. But you don't.

You reach his van and tug expectantly at the handle but he brushes your hand away, ducking into the driver's seat, "No, Y/N, I have to go. Not you. I can't give you a ride today."

"Oh." You feel your stomach shift uncomfortably, a strange sinking feeling in its pit, "I thought.. but- but everyday, you-"

"Not today." He simply states, checking his mirrors to avoid your eye, "Bye."

"Bye," You hardly manage to answer, stepping back as his van roars to life. You watch him peel out of the parking lot with tears stinging at your eyes, then you hear the door open behind you.

"Y/N?" It's Jason's voice, and it grates irritatingly at your ears, "Who you waiting for?"

"No one." You mumble quietly, the realization saddening you, "I.. I've gotta go."

"Lemme give you a ride." He offers, and you expect a sleazy smirk on his face when you turn. Instead it's a soft furrow of his brow, concern etched into his annoying features.

"It's okay," You shake your head, "I.. I should just walk."

"You live, like, ten minutes from here, by car." Jason scoffs, "Come on, Y/N."

"No," You insist, "Really, it's fine. Thank you for the offer, Jason." You step back when he starts for you, frustration taking over his face, "I'll enjoy walking."

"Whatever." Jason rolls his eyes, "Y'know, I was trying to be nice to you. 'Thought you were all over me a few minutes ago."

"Just go," You grit your teeth, already starting down the street for home, "'See you tomorrow, I guess."

You hear him mumble something under his breath, and it sounds suspiciously like, 'not sure if I want to.' But you don't care, because you don't want to see him either, and he takes off in his car only a minute later, leaving you in the dust to walk alone.

For convenience's sake, you probably should have let him drive you. But you'd rather eat mud than let Jason Carver drive you home, giving him your address and ten minutes alone with you in an enclosed space.

When you finally make it home almost an hour later, your feet are killing you. You'd never realized how far you actually lived from the school, ten minutes in Eddie's van while he talked your ear off and blasted music seeming like mere seconds, over too soon.

Worry spikes in your chest at the reminder of Eddie's foul mood earlier. Did someone say something to him outside? Did he get caught by a teacher? Did he have detention?

Then you remember his eagerness to leave. Was he in trouble? Did he get hurt? Was there an emergency?

Against your body's desperate pleas for rest, you reluctantly keep your shoes on, tossing your backpack onto the couch. You'll get an earful from your parents later about the dirty bag on their clean furniture, but Eddie is more important than a lecture, and you set out again.

The sun is beating down on you as you trek to the trailer park, and it takes you even longer to get there than it had to get home. You're sluggish and sweaty when you finally traipse up the stairs to Eddie's trailer, knocking sharply on the door.

"Eddie?" You call, peering in a window to see the lights in his room on, "Eddie, open up!"

No reply. You shift on your feet, the soles of them aching, "Eddie, it's hotter than balls out here! Please just let me in!"

You hear light shuffling from behind the door, then a lock clicks, and Eddie stands unimpressed in front of you, the door swung open.

"What do you need?" He glares at you, his rotten behavior a complete 180 from his usual bubbly disposition. He gets a good look at your flushed, sweaty face, "Jesus, did you come from hell?"

"Almost," You grimace at the reminder of nearly being in Jason Carver's car, "Let me in."

You move to brush past Eddie but he sidesteps you, keeping you on the porch. Your lips part indignantly, "Eddie!"

"You can't come in." He grumbles, his brows low over his eyes, "Just go home, Y/N."

"I just walked here for an hour," You seethe, "And I did it because I was worried about you. Let me in, dickhead."

He scoffs unimpressed at you, and your heart stings. It's not the first time he's been cross with you, but it's the first time you don't know what you've done, and it hurts to know that he's being this cold.

He finally steps out of the way, and you head instantly for the kitchen. You rummage through a few plastic cups, pulling out your favorite one and filling it with water. While you're chugging it Eddie sits atop the counter, watching you warily.

"So fuckin' messy," He chides, his voice still sharp, "Get over here."

He swipes a thumb over your cheek, smearing away a droplet of water that you'd managed to spill. His touch feels amazing, which is scary because you've only been deprived of it for a few hours, but he pulls away far too soon and crosses his arms over his chest.

"So?" He raises a brow at you, "What do you need?"

"I need to know what's wrong with you," You soften your voice, staring up at him imploringly where he's perched on the counter, "I.. I don't know what happened, but I know something's wrong. And I hate it when you're angry at me, but now I don't even know what I did, and-" Your voice teeters on the edge of cracking, and you rein yourself in with a deep, steady inhale, "I don't know what to do. I don't like this."

You feel hot tears brim in your eyes, and you blink rapidly to try and dissolve them. You're embarrassed, and you're not sure if it's for doing whatever you did, for not knowing what you did, or for crying. You feel pathetic, and you look away from Eddie miserably.

You can't see it, but his teeth dig gently into his bottom lip. He's never made you cry before. Tears sting at his own eyes, a warning of what's to come if he keeps brushing you off, and his hand shakes as he reaches it towards you.

"Y/N.." He breathes carefully, ghosting a hand over your shoulder. You flinch away from the contact and he can pinpoint that as the exact second his heart breaks, biting his tongue to keep himself from crying.

"You.. you don't get to touch me," You whisper, a broken sound as your arms wrap around yourself in a semi-comforting hug, "Not yet. Not until this is over. What did I do, Eddie, why are you treating me like this?"

This time it's Eddie feeling the absence of your comforting touch, itching to yank you into a bear hug and suffocate you until you're not angry with him anymore. Having something taken away is much different than being the taker, Eddie finds out, and he curls his fingers around the counter to prevent himself from crossing your boundaries and smothering you with apologies.

"I was upset.." The past tense refers to only seconds before, still mad when you'd shown up. But your tears had simply eradicated his jealousy, the shining trails down your cheeks stabbing at his chest.

It's a shitty explanation and he knows it. He watches your face screw up, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as your lips purse to withhold a sob.

"I.." He continues, desperate to comfort you but unable to, knowing the words that were about to escape him were meaningless against your tears, "I got jealous, sweetheart."

"Jealous?" You query brokenly, your voice thick with sadness, "Of who?"

"Of Jason," He admits bravely, putting himself out of his comfort zone to pull you back into your own, "You were.. you were really layin' it on thick, baby."

The pet names don't instill the same comfort they normally do in you, but they do assure you that Eddie can't be too mad at you. You sniffle miserably, glancing up at him through tears, "So? 'Was just for some stupid prank." You rub at your nose with your sleeve, "Why did that make you jealous?"

"Cause it sounded right." Eddie sighs, rubbing a hand over his tired expression, "It.. it looked right, too. I mean, it looked wrong, you and him. But his arm looked.. natural around your waist. And your hands were all over his chest," He groans, "It just seemed real."

You're skeptical now, squinting up at him suspiciously, still through a layer of unshed tears, "So? What are you trying to say, Eddie?"

Eddie lets out a strangled, frustrated groan, hopping down from the counter, "I'm saying I want my arm around your waist!"

You've got the same unwavering, confused look on your face, and Eddie's not bothered to admit to himself that he wants to kiss it off of you. But he doesn't want to scare you, so he backs against the counter instead, "I like you, Y/N."

"I should fucking hope so." You mumble, "'Been best friends for years."

"No, I- hnggh," He nearly laughs, your obliviousness comically intense, "Y/N, I'm in love with you."

Now that, you understand.

His confession hits you like a ton of bricks, and you stand frozen, dumbfounded in his cramped kitchen. He had never confessed to you in the first place out of a fear of rejection, and now every second that you stay silent he feels the crack in his heart slowly tear apart.

Finally, finally you speak, mumbling an abrupt, "Oh."

"Oh?" He repeats fearfully, "What does 'oh' mean?"

"Oh."

"Come on baby," He jests weakly, "'Gotta give me a little more than that."

"You.." Your brows dip adorably into a furrow, "You like me?"

"I do." He nods once, "Is that... is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Your shoulders relax from where they'd been stiff by your ears, and Eddie swears he can feel every ounce of tension leaking from his body, "I like you too, Eddie."

You say it so casually, and it's the answer Eddie had been hoping for, but the relief that rushes through him at your admission is heavenly. He wonders if you really know just how much it meant to him, the five simple words that you're changing his life with.

"You.. you do?" He asks, hesitant to get ahead of himself in case this was a bizarre, torturous dream that would shatter him when he woke up, "'Cause you don't have to lie to me, baby. If you don't, it's okay, I won't-"

"Shh," You step forwards, placing a finger over his lips and gazing into his eyes. He swears he's dreaming when you drag the finger from his lips over his chin, up his jaw, and settle it into his hairline as your other hand comes up to join the first one on his free cheek.

You're cupping his cheeks. You're cupping his cheeks, Eddie can feel his heart racing as you stare at him, your gaze dreamy.

"I'm not lying." You insist, "Of course I like you. How could I not? You've got these pretty brown eyes," You muse softly, your thumbs ghosting over the soft skin beneath them, "And your nose is so nice," You run a finger down it affectionately, then lean in to pop a kiss to its tip, “‘S good for kissin’.” He feels his heart explode, then your finger immediately goes back to his cheek, "And.. and you've got really nice lips."

To prove your final point your fingers dance over them, the soft pillowy pads dipping slightly under the pressure you apply. Eddie feels like he's dreaming, caught up in some heavenly universe that he could get sucked out of any second, and he tries desperately to commit the feeling of you admiring him to memory before it slips away.

"I want to kiss you," You confess, your fingers pressing softly against his lips, "Can I?"

'Course you can," He breathes incredulously, his lips puckering to press gently into the pads of your fingertips. It's intimate, love bleeding through the gesture.

You only remove your hands to fulfil your promise, pressing your lips to his own in a careful, delicate kiss. It's soft, sweet, and dizzying, only lasting for a few seconds before you both pull away. Your head is fuzzy, and it leaks into your heart. He's looking at you like you hung the moon, his big doe eyes shining with adoration as they flit over your face.

He can't believe this is real. He can't fathom that he's just kissed you, that you've just kissed him, that you two have kissed.

He’s not sure how many nights he’s fallen asleep thinking about you. He tends to fantasize, though it’s a word he’ll never use for fear of embarrassment, about you. It's easier to fall asleep when someone else is there, and it's the easiest thing in the world when it's you. Most nights feature different fantasies, scenes in time from the preview of a movie he hopes is starting now.

Some nights he imagines what it would be like to teach you to play the guitar. You’ve strummed his mindlessly a few times, but he drifts off thinking about how adorable you’d be with his guitar in your lap, your fingers running cautiously over the strings as he compliments how metal you’re becoming.

Other nights you’re going grocery shopping with him in his daydreams. You lead him down the aisle, your fingers eagerly stretched towards a package of Oreos, and he gives in only if you promise to let him kiss the cream off of you after you’ve had a few.

The there’s the less common, but still precious, vacation fantasy. He supposes he doesn’t think about this one as often because he’s content where he is, as long as you’re there too. Still, sometimes it’s nice to imagine a ski lodge with you, snowflakes dotting your eyelashes and frosty air nipping at your nose. He’d make you hot chocolate, extra whipped cream and marshmallows, then he’d let you fall asleep on his shoulder before a roaring fire.

But this, you gently pressing your silky soft lips to his own slightly chapped ones in the dinky little kitchen of his trailer after confessing your love to him? He’s going to rewatch this scene every night for the rest of his life.

He doesn't think he looks much like a movie star. Maybe the star of an action movie, a rugged adventurer. But never a romance. Romances aren't made with guys like him, guys who have messy hair down their back and tattoos littering their chest. Romances are made for proper couples, couples that live in a three bedroom home, two kids inside and another on its way, dog and a picket fence. Couples that host backyard barbecues, that go to the lake on sundays, that buy their kids barbie dolls and monster trucks.

Not him.

You, though? You were made to be a star. Your pretty face, your sweet eyes and your soft lips. You're the pinnacle of romance, and it feels foreign to Eddie that he isn't an audience member anymore, instead the lead actor.

Eddie doesn't know what he's done to land the starring role in your romance, but he swears right then and there that he'll never botch the job.

"You taste good." You absentmindedly ghost your tongue over your lips, saliva now glistening on them as you contemplate, "You're sweet."

Eddie is absolutely certain you're wrong. He probably tastes like smoke, sweat, and the trail mix he'd had for lunch, which he assumes isn't a very appealing combination. But you lean in again with no hesitation, pressing your slightly dampened lips to his own.

This time, he lets himself react. Before he'd been frozen in terror, sure that any sudden movement would spook you and you'd flee. But now? Now he dives in.

He brings his hands to cup your cheeks, tilting your face slightly so that his nose doesn't run into your own. He'll admit, rubbing noses with you is one of his favorite things, or, used to be, before he kissed you for the first time, because it was just about the closest he could get without actually kissing you. He was always able to pass it off as a friendly gesture of affection, scrunching his face up into a smile and brushing his nose against your own. But now the gently brush of skin on skin is nothing compared to your lips on his.

His tongue longs to roll into your mouth, but he doesn't want to take things too far, not yet. He wants to savor this, he wants to feel every step of the process, cherish it before it gets too hot and heavy. Right now, he wants to kiss you, nothing more.

He brushes his tongue softly over your bottom lip to satiate his urges. It draws a soft whimper out of your mouth, a sound that, in any other circumstances would go straight south. But it warms his heart this time, hearing how much you're enjoying finally kissing him.

Though this kiss lasts longer than the last, it's still short. He really does want to take things slow, and he breaks away to rest his forehead against yours.

He can't help the grin that grows over his lips. He feels a similar one stretch your cheeks, his hands still cupping the slight pudge there. He's squealing inside, reduced to a giggling schoolgirl stomping his feet and doodling your names together inside of an arrow-struck heart. But he keeps himself relatively cool on the outside, feeling you press yourself tighter against him.

"Did I.. was that good? For you?" You question hesitantly, and his eyes drift open to meet your own only centimeters away. He realizes that you're insecure, that your eyes are wide with anxiety and that you're stiff in his grip.

Something is flattering about that. You'd just kissed him dizzy, reduced him to a blushing mess, and still you were worried about his enjoyment.

"That was.. perfect." He breathes, tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, the familiar gesture skyrocketing in intensity, "I've been dreaming about that, baby."

"Dreaming? About me?" Your eyes shine, and Eddie promises to himself that the next time you close them, he'll kiss the lids. He wants to kiss every pretty part of you, from head to toe.

"About you," He confirms, "You're the star of all my dreams, sweetheart."

You giggle at that. He sees the tension drain from your frame, anxiety about not being good enough, and he watches you embrace your new role as lead actress.

"I've dreamt about you before too." You admit, raising one hand to press against one of his on your cheek, "We took your van to space, it turned into a rocket."

He lets out an amused laugh at your nonsensical dreams, not sure how to correct you that his were more on the domestic side.

"A rocket? That's cool." He murmurs, refraining from speaking too loud lest he shatters the silent intimacy you've created in the kitchen of his trailer.

"Eddie?" You hum softly, twisting one of his rings mindlessly around his fingers with your eyes downcast, "What are we now?"

He feels himself sucked out of his role. He swallows dryly, realizing that there was still a chance you might not want to be his costar.

"Well," He starts, his voice much more confident than he is, "Would you like to date me, sweetheart? I could be your boyfriend, if you want."

Then a blinding smile breaks over your face, and he's not worried anymore.

"I want you to be my boyfriend," You nod eagerly, now bouncing on the balls of your feet on the tile, "You mean it, Eddie?"

"'Course I mean it," He urges, "I'll give you my jacket when you're cold, and I'll catch you when you jump into my arms to say hello, and I'll lend you my shirts to wear for bedtime."

"You already do all of that stuff," Your nose wrinkles slightly in confusion, "I'm wearing your shirt right now."

He glances down at your torso, and hooks a finger under the hem of your jacket to reveal an old Iron Maiden shirt he'd let you borrow. He feels sheepish as he realizes he's already been pseudo-dating you for years, and picks out the one thing he's missed.

"Well then I'll kiss you," He promises, "All the time."

"All the time?"

"All the time." He threatens, his eyes growing wide as his hands clamp onto your hips, "You won't ever escape."

"Eddie!" You shriek as you make a run for it, giggling relentlessly as you sprint through his trailer and into his bedroom. He races after you, catching you before you can beeline for the closet and catapulting you onto his mattress. You land with a hearty bounce, and Eddie hovers over you before your back hits the bed again.

"Come here," He growls teasingly, his curls spread over your face as he digs his nose into your neck. His lips form rapidfire kisses on your skin, drawing hearty laughter from your chest that he hopes is part of the soundtrack for your movie, because he wants to listen to it on repeat. He presses his lips tight to your jaw, blowing a sloppy raspberry there and tightening his hold on your hips when you try squirming away.

"Eddie!" You finally manage to catch his face in your hands, tugging it away from where he's smothering it into your cheek, "Eddie, that tickles!"

You're breathless, your chest heaving with laughter, and Eddie takes pride in being able to do that to you. He makes you laugh. He makes you smile. He makes you happy.

You're staring up at him with a lovesick grin on your face that he's sure is displayed over his mouth too. So he connects them, bending his elbows to kiss you for real.

Despite your somewhat suggestive position, he keeps his hands to himself. They're holding your hips, content in their positioning as he lays another sweet kiss to your lips. This time when he breaks away he collapses beside you, keeping one leg thrown over yours. His hair fans out over the pillow and tickles your face, and your nose scrunches as you splutter.

“Sorry,” He’s really not, because getting to see your face all bunched up as his hair tickled your nose was priceless, but he lies.

“‘S okay,” You grab one of the strands you’d just spit out of your mouth, twisting the end of it around your finger, “And your hair! I like your hair too.”

Eddie’s heart explodes as he realizes you’re adding onto his list of likable qualities from before.

"Oh yeah? Well," He decides to return the favor, slipping his arm underneath yours that's still toying with his hair, "I like your nose."

He leans in to press his lips to it, "Yours is good for kissing too."

You giggle under him, a light, airy sound that sends his tummy turning.

"And your eyes," He runs a thumb through your lashes and they flutter beneath his touch, "'Can see aaaall that love you've got in there for me."

He realizes too late that it's a step you haven't taken yet as lovers. Sure, you've told him that you love him plenty of times, and he has too. But now it's different, now it's more.

But, he realizes, as your eyes shine with adoration, your lips moving to echo his sentiment, it's not more. It's the same as he's always felt about you, suffocating, intoxicating, all-consuming. He's loved you like this forever.

He grins as you tell him you love him without hesitation. He feels like the luckiest man in the world as he settles down beside you, your eyes following his as your lovesick grin becomes permanent. He's not sure if his own will ever fade, not as long as he's got you by his side. Just like you are now, tucked neatly into his chest, the collar of your jacket riding up to cover your jaw. He tugs it down and presses a kiss to the jut of your chin, then leaves his face there nestled into your own. He feels your own lips pucker to stain his skin with a soft peck, tightening his hold around your waist as he keeps you close to him in his bed.

"Y'sleepy?" You drag a single finger through his hair, letting your nail ghost over his scalp. He nearly purrs, reduced to a clingy kitten amidst the tsunami of love that had just washed over you both.

"Just happy." He hums. The droop of his eyelids is drawn from contentedness rather than exhaustion, the haze taking over his brain comes from the steady scent of you that he's breathing in while his face is nuzzled against your own.

"Me too," You admit, "Can we just stay here for a while?"

"Baby," He chuckles breathily against your face, seemingly unable to stop the onslaught of kisses that he's smothering you with, "We're never getting out of this bed again. I'm keeping you here forever."

tags: @spencestyles @lovinondylanobrien @th0rswh0res @hannyhoe @desireav @1800-fight-me

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[thedroneranger]

The Drone Ranger's Be Kind Rewind ⏪ ereardon Edition!

A rec reblog series dedicated to the fics that we love so much, we've re-read them!

Please enjoy @ereardon's Rewind! One of the biggest joys of this series is when someone pops into my inbox to ask if they can participate. Em was one of those people—thank you 🖤

While we continue to churn out amazing new content, let's be kind and rewind to look at some of the OG content we love! And don't forget to reblog when you re-read! Continue to show your comfort fics and favorite creators some love. It helps keep the fresh content coming :)

Let's keep this going throughout the summer, so if you're interested in participating in the Be Kind Rewind, message me. The more, the merrier!

If you want to know when a new Rewind drops, join the tag list, and check out previous Rewinds!

fics below the cut (listed in alphabetical order by title)

Frustrated, Bradley Bradshaw, @roosterforme Em’s masterlist is literally a masterpiece (seriously go read all of her stuff), so this might seem like a random pick. But it’s the epitome of a slutty one shot for me. Sex in the bar bathroom? Check. Jealousy? Check. Rooster versus Hangman battle for masculinity? Check. If you want to be hot and bothered, this is it y’all. 

Happy Little Accidents, Bob Floyd, @yanna-banana Listen. If someone is gonna knock me up after a one night stand, I need it to be Bob Floyd. Not even kidding. A traditional trope takes on a life of its own with Bob and Zak, a match made in heaven! They’re sweet, they’re spicy, I mean it’s Bobby Floyd as a dad-to-be. What's not to love? 

Killing Me Softly, Bob Floyd, @wkndwlff We love a Bob x Reader x Jake triangle in this household. I also just fucking LOVE a Bob Floyd roommate trope and this story by Taylor has it all! Sweet fluff, angst, Bobby with tattoos?? Bob is down bad for her in this and I love that for him. A sweet read! 

Sugar and Spice, Jake Seresin, @wombtotombx This was the VERY FIRST Tumblr fic I ever read and what brought me into the TGM fandom, so thank you SB! I just love an enemies to lovers story, and Grace and Jake’s relationship is such a push and pull. It also helps that the author has really in-depth knowledge of the Navy, and I’ve learned so much reading their stories! 

The Professor, Jake Seresin, @topguncortez What’s a list like this without a fic from G?? Seriously, she hits it out of the park with this one. Slightly dark, definitely condescending, asshole Jake as a PROFESSOR? Fucking hell get me a fan, I’m sweating. But honestly, their relationship is equal parts spicy and angsty and entirely believable and I just love it so much. Plus, we get a little Rooster and Bob side character action. 

Trouble in Paradise, Bradley Bradshaw, @sunlightmurdock This fic absolutely haunts me, in the best possible way. From the smutty goodness to just the painful realizations throughout and the setting, I always find myself going back to this fic. It’s also one story that literally patrols my thoughts, like it just pops up out of the blue and I love that! Katie’s entire masterlist is my fucking drug so it’s no surprise that I love this story so much, but if you haven’t read this it is a MUST. Also the setting makes it a perfect summer read! 

You Said You’d Grow Old With Me, Bradley Bradshaw, @blue-aconite Don’t want to cry today? Too freaking bad. Fe is going to make you cry with this, and you’ll love her for it. Bradley x soulmate; I said what I said.

Creator's Own

The Off-Season, Jake Seresin Jake and Meredith are just my favorite kind of duo. Both a little broken, both guarded, but too fucking attracted to each other to deny it for long. Also Meredith is the QUEEN of sass and snappy commentary (I aspire to be her). Add in a bit of an age and maturity gap (Jake is 29, Meredith is 23), a remote setting (Bar Harbor, Maine), and a dash of forbidden-ness (Meredith is the sister of Jake’s former college roommate) and you have a take on the classic roommates who hate each other trope but with nuance. But what will happen when the two inevitably fall for each other? 

Tag list and friends: @petcr3 @desert-fern @Sagittarius-Lovewitch @mygyn @sweetwhispersofchaos @horseshoegirl @the-annoying-fan @dingochef @moon42flight @thecitysgraveyard @ereardon @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @galaxy-of-stories @taytaylala12 @malindacath @violyn20 @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @blue-aconite @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @s-u-t @mavrellover91 @chicomonks @averyhotchner 

A kind reminder, this is a 18+ blog. While not all stories in the recommendation list are 18+, please respect boundaries and do not interact unless you are 18 years of age or older.

[hee-blee-art]

introducing one of my oc bands, au revoir fingers! members include sebastian (he/they, lead vocals), ebenezer (any, keys and synth), janet (she/her, lead guitar), lawrence (they/them, bass), and razza (she/her, drums). 

you can listen to their vibes playlist here: [playlist link]

bonus:

[image ID: five digital oc portraits on abstract backgrounds next to five corresponding signatures:

1: a thin Korean man with wine stain birthmarks and a black bowl-cut with a blonde streak. he wears a white t-shirt, has mascara running down his face, and has the wire of the pink microphone he’s holding wrapped around his neck. his signature begins with an “S” and the rest is unreadable.

2: a skinny mixed Chinese-canadian person with very pale skin, a completely shaved head, pointed elf-like ears and fangs. they wear a black jacket and large red and black headphones. their signature reads “EBENEZER” in block letters surrounded by a rectangle.

3: a fat Black woman with medium brown skin, multiple piercings, and black and pink chest length locs. she wears a white tank top, a teal headband, pink eye shadow, and is holding the broken neck of a guitar in each hand with a small smile. her signature reads “Janet” in clean cursive.  

4: a soft-bodied white person with short brown hair, one grayish blue eye and one brown eye, and a black prosthetic hand attached to their right elbow. they are wearing a white and purple cow print t-shirt and have their arms folded around themself in a hug. their signature reads “Lawrence” in messy lilting handwriting followed by a smiley face.

5: a stout white woman with freckles and ginger hair in a choppy bob. she is wearing a black muscle shirt that reads “NOT YOUR DOG” in white text, studded bracelets, has the word “FAIRY” written on her neck, is holding a pair of black drumsticks, and is flipping off the viewer with a snarl. her signature reads “FUCK OFF” in messy capitals with a heart drawn next to it, and underneath there is a dash and the letters “ARF.”

below the portraits is a fake album cover for the band. it features layered visuals of a skull and several hands with a primarily brown, white, and gray colour palette. the album title, in tall capital letters, is “OBIT” and below that in looping script is the name of the band, “au revoir fingers.” in the corner there is a “PARENTAL ADVISORY, EXPLICIT CONTENT” sticker. all of the signatures featured above are written on the album cover in white. end ID]

[bakedcolson]

Flowers and sex \\ Machine Gun Kelly

Machine Gun Kelly x Female reader

Warnings: smut (18+), degradation kink, language

Author’s note: just for anyone wondering I did base this fic loosely off of the song flowers and sex by EMELINE, anyways enjoy!

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You and Colson’s anniversary day consisted of him going… a bit over the top. It started off with waking up to 2 dozen roses, a spa day, and at night he was taking you out to a fancy restaurant, of course paying for the dress you wore as well.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the gestures. you were head over heels in love with him and have been for the past 4 years, but you never felt like you could repay him for the things he did.

In nothing but a silk robe, you roamed the house in search of the blonde boy’s whereabouts.

“Slim I can’t tonight man sorry.” Colson said into his phone before sighing and tossing the phone on the desk in his office.

“Whatcha up to?” You ask, leaning against the doorframe as he takes in the sight of you.

“Y/N why aren’t you getting ready? Our reservation is in an hour!” He exclaims. You couldn’t deny the sight of him in a suit and the things it did to you.

“Let’s ditch tonight.” you said straddling his thigh as he sat in the office chair.

“Oh hell nah not when I’m taking you out to a fancy dinner, dress on now.” he said, jaw clenching.

“Come on baby you always do too much for me, let me do something for you.” you purred. He opens his mouth to respond before looking down, feeling the wet patch that’s developing on his dress pant leg.

“Are you-, are you not wearing underwear?” He stutters before trying to move up the silk robe that covered you.

“Why? I thought you wanted me to get ready?” You tease.

“Fuck it, upstairs now.” He says and you remove yourself from his thigh. You run up the stairs and he follows closely behind as you make a mad dash for your shared bedroom.

You accidentally trip and fall to floor near the side of the bed. Landing on your back, your robe falls open exposing you to his dark eyes.

“Colson…” you trail off as your fingertips danced along your clit, drawing a content sigh from your lips. He kneeled down to hover over you and grabbed your hand.

“That’s my job princess.” Colson starts. “Now are you gonna be a good girl while I fuck you on the floor?”

“But baby we have a whole bed right there.” you try to reason with him before you feel his hand on the column of your throat. “Does it matter at this point? We’ve fucked in so many places I don’t care where I gotta take you.” He replies. You thought about all the places in the house that were no longer sacred because of your doings.

In a moment of distraction you push the blonde boy and he falls back, pretty much switching positions with you. You undo his belt and pop open the button of his dress pants. “What the-“ he starts before feeling your hand take his cock out of his pants. “You do too much for me, let me do this for you.” You purr in his ear as you start to stroke him.

“Fuck Y/N.” He groans and you take this as an opportunity to put his length in your mouth. You bobbed your head slowly at first but increased speed at the moans that fell from his mouth. “Shit!” He moaned as he was nearing his release. Suddenly, he grabs your hair gently and pulls you off his shaft.

“What’s the matter baby?”

“It would be better if I finished inside you, don’t you think?” Colson asked and you nodded eagerly. He fully removed your robe and pushed you to lay flat on the ground again as he hovered over you.

“What a sloppy, wet cunt.” He said as he ran a finger through your folds gathering your arousal. Your eyes clamp shut at the contact before he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you.

Colson gives you a second to adjust before beginning to thrust, slowly at first before increasing to a hard and fast pace.

“Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck you like the slut you are?” He groaned as his hand traveled between the two of you to rub your clit in fast, tight circles.

“Mmm..” you moaned as each jack-hammered thrust sent shockwaves throughout your body. “So tight and wet.” He growled in your ear. “You gonna cum?”

Instead of answering him, your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your high washed over you. “God fuck..�� Colson groaned before following after you. “Well I think our plans for dinner are successfully ruined”.

“I don’t why you plan a fancy dinner every year.” You start. “You should know I just want flowers and sex”.

[ayekittyk4t]

aot boys favorite frat songs

Desc: the boys. songs about drugs, sex & partying.

♱ Pairing: aot boys x reader

♱ Content: College/Frat AU, Party setting

♱ Content Warning: Alcohol & Marijuana usage, cursing, suggestive content,fuckboy fuckery, frat boys…

a/n coming from someone who’s never been to a frat party. this was really fun tho, hope you enjoy.

eren yeager

no hands - waka flocka flame, roscoe dash, dale

babe, we’re talking about college/fratboy au eren…he’s a goddamn whore. not only is he a whore in a sexually i’ll fuck anyone i can get my sexy hands on way, but he’s a whore for the song no hands. his favorite lyric is rain, rain go away that’s what all my haters say, because he feels like he can relate. i wholeheartedly agree. hes not one to dance, but when he gets his hands on two baddies - one being you, and the other being god knows who - he’s having the time of his life between the two of you.

armin arlert

sexy can i - ray j, yung berg

sigh. let’s be honest, my man isn’t for here for the party scene. poor boy was just dragged by his reckless emo friend aka eren. he will NOT dance. though, after one and a half beers, he gets a lil tipsy and starts singing lyrics to you. it’s funny but he looks cute while doing it. almost convinces you hes too innocent to have hoes 😳.

jean kirstein

just a lil bit - 50 cent

ah, fratboy jean. he’s a sweet fuckboy nearly similar to armin. mans is a dancer. he loooooves dancing, especially with his significant other. hands on your hips, he watches you from behind when y’all grind on each other. eventually he start kissing up your neck. well, you know what comes next.

connie springer

black beatles - rae sremmurd, gucci mane

HAHA, this ones my favorite. fratboy connie doesn’t really like having someone attached to his all night, following him around like puppy. my man just wants to smoke and get faded as fuck while his favorite song plays. he rather watch you dance, his legs spread, joint in one hand, cup of beer in his other, and eyes trailing and boring into you. no actual contact but it’s hot.

reiner braun

the motto - drake, lil wayne

ah yes, reiner. the president. the one throwing the craziest parties. he’s also one not to dance. mainly because he’s too busy watching over his brothers because my man is trying to be responsible. but when he has a break and the motto starts playing, expect nothing less than him dragging you with him. he doesn’t put his hands on you when y’all dance, he keeps his distance, and maybe, just maybe if it seems like you’re comfortable, he’ll grab your hand. wow, romantic o whatever.

bertolt hoover

blow the whistle - too $hort

when i tell you he will not dance. he won’t. there’s not a chance you could ever convince him. he’s shyyyy. you do try, he doesn’t budge. but when his song plays, you catch him bobbing his head to the beat. i mean who doesn’t want to dance to this song? he becomes flustered when looked back at you watching him, immediately becoming stiff and bashful. you poke a little fun at him, a little, ‘i thought you don’t dance?’ and you’re done. very cute.

porco galliard

ayy ladies - travis porter, tyga

oh my fratboy porco. a fuckboy. verrrrry much a fuckboy. he’ll dance with you alright. ‘dance’. it’s more of a ‘lol, shake ur ass on me’ and you willingly do. now just because he isn’t really dancing with you doesn’t mean boy isn’t stiff. oh no, he’ll throw in some moves there. they’ll definitely catch you off guard.

colt grice

shots - lmfao, lil jon

LMFAO. okay so, he’d LOVE to dance with you. he really, really would, but hes fucked up. he uses this song as another excuse to drink even more, and get even more fucked up. he even attempts to drag you with him, your quick to pull him and attempt his inebriated ass to chill the fuck out. he later knocks out on your lap.

zeke is too pretentious to ever go to a frat party. levi thinks their disgusting and he’s probably a prof. in the au. erwin is probably a prof. in this au too so it’s self explanatory but he also isn’t one for parties where people take shots off of each other body.

[pascalpanic]

Pilot’s Hands (Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Summary: Frankie takes you up flying in his helicopter. You can’t help but focus on those goddamn hands of his.

W/C: 2.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), finger penetration/fingering, language, lots of dirty talk and innuendos, please forgive the multiple puns I made, a singular smack to the ass. afab reader. talk of flying in helicopters and being rlly high above the ground. reader is nervous about heights.

A/N: Frankie smut is the best smut. This was requested by @notabotiswear!! I hope it’s what you were feeling, love!

Your hands grip the chair as the helicopter slowly lifts from the ground. There’s an urge deep inside of you to jump from it now, while you’re low, so that nothing can happen, that you can’t be lifted up. You want to scream and shout and rip these headphones from your ears and make it all stop, but you don’t. You grip the seat even harder and squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the pressure in your ears start popping and changing.

The anxiety eases instantly as you look to your left. There sits Frankie, guiding the helicopter. He looks absolutely fucking gorgeous, as usual. Today he wears a warm flannel over a t-shirt with his favorite beer’s logo. On top of his brown waves, which were extra unmanageable this morning, sits his favorite ball cap. He’d spent an unhealthy amount of time picking out just the right outfit today, since it was technically a date.

You smile a little at how focused he is. There are lines of concentration between his two thick eyebrows, his stubbly jaw clenched in concentration. His large hands navigate around the dashboard, controlling the massive machine as it pushes you up into the sky. It’s soothing when he’s the one doing it.

Frankie has always talked to you about his love of flying. It’s something you’ve never quite understood. He talks about it like it’s beyond any other experience. Flying is his happy place. He’s never more content than when he can control the big machine and soar through the sky. You’re the opposite. Flights usually required you to take an anxiety med and pass out. The feeling of being so far above the ground makes you panic and fills your brain with the worst possible scenarios.

There’s something better about it when the man you’d trust with your life- are trusting with your life- is the one piloting the machine. He sneaks you a smile as he notices you staring, but in an instant is back at the controls. You giggle and lean back in your chair, enjoying the view. Frankie’s got you.

The ascent continues. You’re still gripping the sides of the chair with all of the force your hands can create, and the anxiety seeps in. You close your eyes and force yourself to focus on your breathing. Even this high in the air, Frankie is your solid ground. You reach over and grab his thigh, knowing his hands are too busy to hold. Your fingers dig into his leg, but it’s no distraction.

Finally, Frankie slips one hand beneath yours and laces your fingers together. “Open those eyes, baby,” he asks, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “We’re at the cruising altitude.”

Your eyes open and are filled with nothing but blue sky surrounding you. Looking to the sides, you can see your city surrounding the two of you. Everything looks so small. You’re unconsciously beaming, and when you turn to look at Frankie, he’s grinning back. “Cool, right?” He asks with an equally big smile.

“The coolest,” you nod in agreement and laugh. It’s astounding, really.

“Just one second, babe,” he tells you and drops your hands, pressing some buttons and flipping some switches. His hands are skilled, flying across the controls with practiced ease. His voice is smooth and even in tone as he talks to someone in his headset. He continues even as he talks to the controller, reaching over you to hit a far button.

He’s good to just steer now, you can tell, and you wrap both of your arms around one of his. He signs off from the call and looks over at you, then down at the arms on your hands. “You need something to hold onto?” He asks, leaning over and kissing your head briefly.

“You look sexy flying,” you chuckle and slide your hands down to his, holding it happily as you look around. “You’re just… so good at it,” you shrug and look around the cockpit.

He laughs softly. “I wonder how it happened,” he teases, pulling his hand back to he can use it to navigate. “Are you okay? Sure you’re not too anxious?” He asks. His eyes aren’t on you- they can’t afford to be right now, while you’re in the air- but his words are sincere.

You nod, beaming. “I trust the pilot more than I ever have.”

He shakes his head and smiles, adjusting his cap before flipping a few more switches. “You just keep telling me, okay? Let me know if you wanna be done early.”

“I think I can handle thirty minutes in the air, watching you be all cute and smart.”

“Smart? I don’t know about that one, baby,” he shakes his head but smiles down at the gauges he checks.

For a few minutes, it’s silent between the two of you. The hum of the engine and the spinning blades fills the space between you. You’re content to look around while Frankie pilots the two of you, snapping photos. At one point, you sneak a few photos of him, giggling at how cute he looks. You lean over and kiss his jaw through the stubble, which makes him grin and blush slightly. “Babe, I’m working,” he whines, but it’s all teasing, you both know. Frankie loves nothing more than some physical affirmation.

You chat quietly when he has the time to do so, when the machine doesn’t require as much of his attention. He’s fantastically skilled at multitasking, you notice, which makes you smirk a little. He’s so fucking good at what he does, those calloused hands dancing around the dash like a skilled piano player reciting a sonata, like an artist creating a masterpiece. And you suppose, to Frankie, flying is like an art.

“Do you know any tricks?” You ask at one point.

Frankie nods. “I can do barrel rolls and shit. I don’t think you’d want to feel that,” he chuckles, his hand resting on top of yours, which sits on his thigh.

“Oh fuck, not now,” you laugh softly. “But that’s really cool.” And hot, your primal brain, the one that seeks the best mate, tells you.

As the time in the air dwindles down to a stop, Frankie once again has to pay full attention. You return to your previous position: gripping your chair. Your hands aren’t as forceful now, far more trusting of Frankie and his skills. You can even look around as the world grows bigger and bigger as you approach it. Not long after, the helicopter lands, and you let out a deep sigh of relief. “Wow,” you laugh, a little bit of anxiety still in your voice. “Now I can tell you everything that I wanted to say in the air.”

Frankie looks over at you, tilting his head in confusion. “And what was that, exactly?”

“That you look so fucking hot,” you grin at him. “You do, really. You know what the fuck you’re doing, and that’s hot. And your hands, you’re so good with them,” you muse as you pick one up and play with the thick fingers attached.

This time, Frankie’s smiling. “Oh yeah?”

You nod happily. “Mhm. Just look so good when you’re using them. Makes me think of other things they’re good at.”

He’s a little red, but he grins. “Really?”

“You know that. I’m never quiet about how good you are with them, am I?” You tease and laugh.

Frankie’s face tinges with red, and his Adam’s apple bobs hard with a gulp. “Don’t do this to me yet, baby,” he chuckles and shakes his head. He removes your headphones once the blades have stopped rotating, then his own, and unstraps the both of you.

Frankie gets out then helps you down from the chopper. One of the other men who works at the field comes over to say hello, and he snaps a photo of you and Frankie for you.

The picture is perfect: the blue skies in the background contrast the dark metal of Frankie’s helicopter. He has both arms around you, and you have one hand pressed to his chest. You’re both grinning, both wearing flannels and each in one of his ball caps: you stole one this morning before you left his house.

He walks away after you both thank him, and Frankie leans in close. “Gotta get some shit done in the hangar. Won’t be more than ten minutes. Go wait for me in the car, baby girl,” he murmurs in your ear. He gives you a little smack on the ass, which makes you start to scamper off.

You grab his keys from his pocket, then toss a flirty smile over your shoulder as you walk to the parking garage.

-

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting shotgun in Frankie’s truck. He removes his cap and runs a hand through those curls before putting it back. You watch it, noticing the way the knuckles bend and fold. He looks over at you and notices the expression on your face. “You still thinking about them, baby girl?” He asks with a growing smirk.

You nod, the wetness in your panties growing. “Mhm. Think you could pilot me?”

Frankie rests a hand on your thigh, tracing circles into the skin. “Unzip those jeans for me, baby. Let’s find out.”

You’re in a parking garage, and no one else is around. It’s early on a Saturday morning, but the risk is just as exciting. You do as he says, and Frankie slides his fingers beneath your panties.

The pads of his ring and middle fingers start at the top of your folds, tracing down the damp skin until they reach your entrance. “Fuck,” he groans at how wet you already feel. His fingers swirl around just millimeters inside of you, taking the wetness and removing his hand, bringing it up to your mouth. “Gotta get them ready for me first, honey. You’re already plenty wet, but I wanna make it good for you.”

You oblige and take his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them dutifully and moaning around them. They’re so thick and strong, and the thought makes you spread your legs wider. “Good girl,” Frankie almost growls before bringing his fingers back down to your entrance and slipping them inside of you.

You cry out, your hand gripping the side of your seat once more; this time, it isn’t from anxiety, but from pleasure. They scissor you open slowly, those thick digits reaching deep inside to that spot you can never quite reach with your own. “Ah, fuck,” you whimper as the heel of his palm grinds against your clit. “I was thinking about this the whole time we were flying, Frankie. Your fingers and how good they feel inside me.”

He bites his lip, curling his toes in effort to not get hard right here and now. As much as he loves doing this, loves the risk, this is all the two of you can afford. It’s too late: he’s already got a semi tenting in his jeans.

“Yeah? That’s what you were thinking, dirty girl?” He almost purrs, his voice deep and desperate. “I’m trying to keep us from falling and dying, and all you could think about was how good it feels when I do this?”

As he says this, his fingers curl deep inside you and brush against your g-spot. “Fuck, yeah,” you nod, panting now. You’re sweating, probably through your t-shirt, but you don’t care. It feels too good. One hand of yours grips his wrist, as if it could keep him from pulling away. As if he ever would in the first place.

“Such a good girl, so wet for me,” he groans as he forces himself to stop his hips from bucking into the air, against nothing. “I could do whatever the fuck I wanted to you and you’d let me, couldn’t I?” He murmurs. “You’d even let me fuck you in that helicopter. No anxiety when you got my dick inside you, huh?”

You nod. “You could, yeah,” you groan, your other hand digging into the leather seat. “Anything you want, you got it,” you nod. “Feels so good, anything you do does.”

He smirks. “Maybe I’ll have to try that sometime, huh? Have you keep my cock warm while I fly?”

“Anything,” you repeat breathless, shuddering beneath him. The heel of his palm grinds harder into your clit and it’s all too much. “Frankie, baby, gonna cum, almost there.”

“That’s it, baby girl,” he nods, working his fingers harder. “Cum for me,” he demands, and who are you to disobey such a wonderful order?

Your walls clamp down hard on his thick fingers, the pleasure overwhelming you. “Frankie!” You cry out, head falling into the headrest of the seat.

Everything in your body is pulsing, desperate, pumping red-hot blood that feels like it’s infused with some kind of illicit drug to produce such a high. You whine his name again and again until it’s all too much, and you squeeze his wrist gently, asking him to be done.

He complies, tracing his fingers through your folds before they press against your lips again. “Clean me off, baby.”

You nod and take them in your mouth, lavishing them with your tongue the way you would with his cock, which you’re now growing more and more desperate for.

He pulls them out with a pop and dries them on his flannel, smirking over at you. “Goddamn, honey,” he murmurs as he looks at how wrecked you are just from his fingers. Before you can say anything, Frankie whips the truck into drive and peels out of the parking spot.

The sound of squealing rubber startles you, making you jump and squeal as you button your jeans and zip them. “Frankie!” You gasp and smack his arm. “What the fuck was that?”

His eyes are dead-set on the road, determined not to look at you, not to detract from his mission. “I’m getting us home as soon as I physically can so I can feel that around my dick,” he says, teeth grit in concentration.

He’s rock hard, you can see, and you offer a soft rub into his crotch. “Oh, baby,” you chuckle excitedly, staring at the road ahead of you. It’s going to be a long ride home for the two of you.

It’s safe to say that your anxiety over flying has lessened.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

[evanstanhoney]

Please Honey: TTWILI 🌹✨

pairing: dom!chris evans x sub!reader

summary: you help chris take his mind off of things. 

word count: 3.2k

⚠️warnings: smut

more of this series can be found here.

Dating Chris for as long as you have, you’ve gotten pretty good at reading one another, you better than him. He didn’t make it too difficult for you, every emotion constantly etched on his face and his heart on his sleeve. And lately, he’d been more stressed than usual with a permanent scowl on his face, and constant huffs every time his phone rang. He tried to put on a brave face for you, and you tried not to pry. To let him come to you when he was ready to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him, but you there was only so much of his pouting that you could take before you gave in. 

“Chris?” you ask lifting your head up from his chest. You were tucked under his arm, cuddled up in his side, attempting to watch a movie, but both of your minds were elsewhere. He was drawing mindless patterns up and down your arms, willing himself to focus but he just couldn't. The sound of your voice snapped him out of whatever daze he’d been in. 

 “I’m fine,” he mumbled, already knowing where things were headed. 

“Are you sure about that?” you ask softly, rubbing circles on his stomach. It was something that you learned calmed him down when he was getting worked up. 

He takes a moment biting the inside of his cheek. You think he’s going to protests some more, insist that he’s perfectly content but instead, he looks down at you with those doe eyes you love so much, “Actually, can we - can we play?” 

That was the last thing you’d expected. It had been a while since you and Chris had done that thing that you do. You’d had sex over the last week of course, but it was nothing more than slow lazy morning sex, or before bed lazy sex. It was lovely, of course, it was always good with Chris. But you hadn't ...played in what felt like ages. And the prospect of finally being able to indulge made your cheeks heat up.  

“Like now?” you say in a near whisper, the slightest smile on your face. You were excited, you were finally going to have Chris the way you’d been craving for days. 

“Please.” He nods, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek, drawing smooth circles into the skin with his thumb. 

“Yeah, yeah - we can.” 

His eyes darken, and a smirk graced his lips the moment the words leave your lips. “Go to the room and strip. I’ll be there in a minute.” he leans in for a kiss and it’s deep and slow. You get lost in it for a moment until he pulls away, biting his lip. “Go on.” He rasps, with a tap to your ass, instructing you to make your way to the bedroom and you do. 

As soon as you round the corner, you dash into the bedroom, quickly tugging down your shorts and panties, and pulling your shirt over your head. You should be embarrassed by how eager you were, but it’d been so long since you’d gotten to have Chris in this way and you just couldn't hide your excitement. You position yourself in the center of the bed, completely bare of all of your clothes, waiting for him. It doesn’t take long before he walks into the room, slowly a smirk on his lips. He situates himself at the end of the bed. 

“Knees, baby.” You knee-walk your way down the bed, crawling onto the floor in front of you on your knees, and the way you are looking up at him, eyes all big and innocent and waiting, it drives him wild. “Remind me of the rules please.” 

You go over the rules again like always, reciting your colors and signals, and he praises you with a ‘good girl’, and you are already feeling yourself get to that floaty place that makes you feel tingly all over. 

You stay there kneeling, waiting for instructions when he tugs down the sweats already hanging low on his hips, along with his Calvins. He takes himself in his hand pumping a few times letting out a relieved sigh. 

“Open.” He demanded, and you obliged, scooting closer to him placing your hands on his thighs and opening wide, “Suck.” without hesitation, you wrap your lips around him and begin bobbing your head, taking him as far as you can, working the rest of him with your hand. You’re rewarded with Chris’s moans of praise, and a caress of your cheek. 

“Oh fuck baby. You are doing so good - fuck, you're so good for me.” he huffs, running his hands through your hair, tugging at the roots. “I’m going to fuck your mouth now baby, okay?” He says breathlessly, and you lift off of him for only a second, nodding eagerly. He guides you back on his cock, thrusting in and out of your mouth, holding your head still. His thrusts are slow at first but deep, hitting the back of your throat. You always prided yourself on not having much of a gag reflex. His thrusts picked up speed, and it wasn’t before long he was fucking quicking in and out of your mouth, your hands helping you stay steady on his thighs. He pushed himself to the back of your throat a few times, just staying there enjoying the feeling of your throat constricting around his cock. He let up allowing you to catch your breath before going back in again. 

“Fuck your mouth feels so good.” he groans, lifting you off of his cock one final time, “Color baby?” he prompts 

“Green. I’m green.” You stutter quickly catching your breath, before reattaching yourself back onto his cock, taking him down your throat. He lets you go on a few more moments, without any assistance from him before he’s pulling back, making you look up at him with curious eyes. 

“I’m not coming like this. I’ve got plans for you baby.” he rasps, caressing your cheek running his thumb across your swollen bottom lip. You playfully nip at his thumb, and he smiles down at you, completely smitten.

With one hand under your chin, he guides you back up to your feet, legs a little wobbly. You want to wrap your arms around his neck pulling him close to you but you don’t dare. He never gave you explicit permission you could touch, and you wanted to be good for him. He asked for this, the least you could do was be a good girl and follow the rules. He places both hands on either side of your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. Nibbling at your bottom lip, tongue grazing at your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you gladly give. His hand roams down the front of your body, caressing your right breast, giving it a light squeeze, eliciting a moan from you. His hands roam down your body, cupping your heat, feeling the wetness already pooling there. 

“Wet from just sucking me off, eh?” 

“Always wet for you,” you mumble shyly leaning up again to reattach your lips to his. Your desire gets the better of you, and you find your hands roaming up his shoulders, wrapping around him tangling your fingers in his hair. You give it a light tug, knowing it's one of his favorite things and you get the smallest whimper from him. He’s lost in the feeling of your fingers in his hair, when he remembers his own rules, and quickly untangles your arms from around his neck, and pulls away. 

“Did I say you could touch?” 

“No. I’m sorry.” you pout, and he smirked down at you, giving your lips a quick peck. 

“That’s okay baby.” He says, and any other day he would probably have you over his lap in a second for breaking one of the rules, but he isn’t in the mood to punish you. He just wants to play. “Now up on the bed. Hands and knees.” 

You're quick to follow instructions, turning around and positioning yourself in the center of the bed like he’d asked, your ass presented perfectly to him. He couldn’t help the smirk on his face at your eagerness. He would never understand what it was that made you so pliant. Maybe it was the anticipation and excitement of what was to come next, what he would do to make you feel good. Or maybe it was your want, your need to please him. Maybe it was both. 

He took hold of your ankle and dragged you back down the bed so you were less center, and closer to the edge. The sudden movement, made you lose your balance and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips and his heart skipped a beat. There you were ass up, in front of him on display and still, you managed to do something incredibly adorable. 

“Sorry honey.” He smiles, picking your hips back up into the air. 

“ ‘S okay.” You giggle, and it quickly turns into a moan as his fingers find their way to your pussy, running up and down your folds. 

“This feels good?” He smirks, adding just the tiniest bit of pressure to your clit. 

“Mmhm, yes.” you nod, pushing your ass back against his hand, and he’s quick to pull away. You knew better. ‘Patience is key, Love’, but it just felt so good you couldn’t help it. 

You waited a few moments, waiting for his hand to go back to where you needed him, but instead, you were met with a swift smack to your right ass cheek. It didn’t hurt, but the sudden sting made you cry out. 

“You know the rules baby.” He says, hand soothing where he’d just marked you, before putting his hand back where you’d needed him rubbing up and down your folds, spreading the wetness already collecting there. Slowly he inserts a finger, curling it down, hitting that spot deep inside you drawing out a long moan. He begins pumping his finger in and out of you slowly, keeping it perfectly curved hitting your spot over and over again. Just when you think it’s all too much he slowly, inserts another finger in, curling it perfectly as he had before. “Holy shit.” You whine, pushing back against his fingers, earning you another slap to one ass cheek and then the other. 

“Honey,” Chris warns, slowing down the pace of his fingers. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you moan, waiting for him to pick up the pace with his fingers again and he did. You feel yourself tighten around his fingers, heat pooling at the pit of your stomach and you know it’s only a matter of time. “Baby, I gotta come.” 

“You can come.” he cooed, and immediately your orgasm hits you nearly knocking the breath out of you. 

“Oh fuck.” you sigh, trying to catch your breath. You collapse on the bed, chest heaving when you feel Chris hovering above you, lips trailing kisses up your spine until he's kissing at the back of your neck, planting kisses at that shell of your ear. 

“Turn over for me.” 

Slowly you turn over, looking up at him with a lazy smile. He leans down, crashing his lips into yours, a hand caressing your side. 

“Scoot up,” he says nodding up towards the headboard. You shimmy your way back up the bed, laying down on the pillow, watching as he crawled the way across the bed before he was hovering over you. He leaned down kissing down your neck to your collarbone to your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing you while his hand tweaked at the other. You arched your chest up to him, moaning at the sensation of his tongue swiping across the bud. As much as you were enjoying Chris's mouth on you, you wanted him inside you more than anything. You snaked your fingers into his hair tugging at his locks, bringing his face up to meet yours. 

“Chris -” you whine, but he quickly grasps both your wrist in his one large hand and pins them above your head. 

“Keep them here.” He warns, but his eyes are just as soft as ever. He goes back to work on your chest and just as your about to let out another whine, another beg for him to do something else, he’s pulling himself up, and kissing back up your neck. 

He takes a hold of himself, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds, and you let out a long moan, relieved to finally feel him. He dips the tip inside, just barely, collecting your wetness before spreading through your folds and rubbing the head of his cock against your clit. It feels so good you can’t help but roll your hips into it. 

“Your so wet baby.” He rasps, resting his forehead against yours, “You ready for me?” he asks and you nod furiously, wanting nothing more than to reach out and pull him closer to you. Slowly slides himself inside eyes glued to yours, and you both let out a relieved groan. 

“Can I? Please.” You ask biting at your bottom lip, begging him to allow you to touch him and he nods. You quickly wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you and wrapping your legs around his waist. His thrusts are slow and shallow. Just barely pulling out before thrusting back in again. It’s just to get you adjusted to his size but it wasn’t enough, you needed more. So you begin rolling your hips up, trying to take him in deeper, but the grip on your hips tighten, and you know you’ll have Chris-shaped bruises in the morning. 

“Stay still honey.” He growls, so you do. 

Eventually, his thrusts get deeper, and faster until he’s pistoning his hips into you, drawing out moans and whines. Your hands are taking down his back, and he’s got his head buried in your neck, sucking at your favorite spot behind your ear and you can feel yourself getting to that place where you feel floaty and everything gets tingly. 

“Chris I’m - oh shit.” you whimper tugging at his hair, “Don’t stop please.” His grip on your hips gets tighter and his pace gets quicker, his sucking on your neck more deliberate. You could feel that coil tightens in your stomach again and before you knew your orgasm came crashing into you. “Oh my god,” you whine into his ear, trying to catch your breath.  

“Fuck, that’s my girl” he growls, feeling you contract around him. He stops his thrusts in favor of slow lazy grinding, drawing long deep moans from you. It’s not the prettiest sounds you’ve ever made, but it just feels too good that you can’t be bothered to care. 

“Chris, I - I can’t anymore.” You pant, combing your fingers through his hair. He lifts up from your neck, resting his forehead against yours, a smirk on his face. 

“You sensitive?” you nod and let out another moan when he hit that spot deep inside you once more. “Come on, give me one more. Please baby. Come with me.” He moans, before leaning down crashing his lips with yours.

“Okay,” you whine pulling him closer to you. He lifts your leg up, hooking it around his waist, and you both groan at the new angle. 

“Holy shit, honey.” He says through gritted teeth, he buries himself back into your neck, sucking and licking and nibbling as he started up with a slow pace with his hips once more. His thrusts were still deep and slow but quickly picking up speed as he swiveled his hips. It’s when one of his hands snake up from your hip to your neck with only the slightest bit of pressure do you feel that familiar burn at the pit of your stomach. 

“Chris, oh my - fuck-.” you whine

“It’s okay I got you - fuck. I got you.” He groans into your neck “Honey I’m gonna come. Come with me.” he lifts his head out of your neck, resting his forehead against yours, “Please, honey. Come with me”. It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re coming completely undone beneath him, nails raking down his back, chanting a mixture of swears and his name. “Holy shit.” He huffs, his breath fanning across your face. 

Your tingly all over, and the only thing that you can sense is Chris. His smell, his weight on top of you, his voice letting out little praises. You looked up at him with a lazy smile, eyes slightly glassed over, “Wow.” you smile, and he lets out a little chuckle.

“You did so good baby.” he praises planting kisses all over your face “How are you feeling?”

“Good. I feel good.” you sigh brushing a curl back that’d fallen in front of his face. “I can’t feel my toes.” you giggle. It didn’t happen always, only when your orgasm was particularly intense, and Chris always was proud of himself when he’d been able to do that for you. 

He pulls out of you, and he moves to lift himself away from you and out of bed but you’re quick to pull him back down on top of you. 

“I’ll be right back. Gotta get you cleaned up.” He smiles, placing a quick peck on your cheek before disappearing into the bathroom. He’s back in a flash with a washcloth and quickly cleans you up, tossing the towel to the side and pulling the covers back for you to crawl under. He follows in after, pulling you to his chest planting soft kisses on your hair.  

“Are you okay?” he asks running his hand up and down your arm “I wasn’t too rough?” 

 “Did I call it?” you ask referring to your safe word, and he shakes his head “Then I’m fine.” you smile, “you really needed that didn’t you?” 

 “Yeah.” he chuckles placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

 “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

 “It’s stupid.” 

You look up at him eyebrow raised “If it’s upsetting you then it’s not stupid.” 

“It’s just this stupid stuff with the cafe remodel. I just feel like everything is going to shit.” 

The cafe remodel was his dream. He’d keep his little cafe downstairs during the day and at night a nice little bar upstairs, perfect for open mic nights for local artists, and poets. It was everything he’s ever wanted, and he wanted it to be perfect. 

“It’s going to be a great babe. It’s going to get finished and people are going to love it.” 

“I hope so. I’m just anxious about it. And the closer it gets to being done the more things seem to be going wrong. And with all the constructions business is slow. I’m just stressed is all.” he says letting out a huff. 

“Well, it’s going to be great.” 

“Yeah, I hope so.” he sighs pulling you tighter to him, “Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“For helping me clear my head.” 

“Anytime baby.” You smile, placing a sweet kiss on his chest. “Anytime.”

[moon-light-jukebox]

Switching Roles [Reid x Reader]

masterlist

Summary: Spencer has always been submissive when he's been with reader...but tonight he’s interested in switching things up. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k 

Category: Smut with a dash of fluff

Content Warning: Oral sex (both receiving), soft Dom!Spencer, mild over stim, unprotected sex, dirty talk, spanking. I think that’s it. Just filth, y’all. 

A/n: This idea was sent to me in an ask the other day and I forgot to write the user name down. If you send me a message, I’d love to credit you! I just have the memory of a goldfish.  Anyway, I hope y’all like this filth that I’m slightly embarrassed I wrote. 

--Switching Roles-- 

I knew my relationship with Dr. Spencer Reid would be unconventional when he got called away in the middle of our first date. He apologized profusely but I assumed I was being blown off.

Four days later he showed up outside my apartment after 11 pm with flowers and another apology.

“You could have just called,” I had said that night.

He just shrugged sheepishly. “I know, I know. I just…I just really wanted to see you.”

I think I fell in love with him the moment he handed me those flowers with a blush staining the apples of his cheeks. Everything was history after that.

The hardest part about being with Spencer was accepting his schedule. He was out saving lives and making the world a safer place, and I understood that I really did. That understanding didn't make missing him any easier.

Spencer had been gone for over 10 days and we were both feeling the effects of his absence. Phone calls and video chats could only do so much. I needed him.

He had sent me a text message about 30 minutes ago letting me know his plane had landed.

“Do you want me to come over after we debrief?”

For a genius, he asked a lot of stupid questions.

I jumped out of my seat a moment later when there was a knock at my door. He had a key; I don’t know why he never used it.

No sooner had I opened the door than he was on me. He shoved his way through the door. One of his hands tangled in my hair while the other cupped my jaw. I vaguely heard the door slam a moment before he turned us and pushed my back against it.

Very quickly in our relationship, we had discovered that Spencer really enjoyed it when I told him what to do when we had sex. I wasn't new to being dominant in the bedroom, but Spencer had never had a partner take control the way I did. Introducing Dr. Spencer Reid to the world of BDSM had been a treat for us both.

My tongue swept over the seam of his mouth, pulling a groan from him before he opened for me. His tongue slicked against mine while his hands moved down my body, brushing over my breast to my stomach, already set on undoing my pants.

When I felt the button of my pants open, I broke away from our kiss. “Hey, Doc,” I panted against his mouth.

Spencer just gave me a small smile, his thumb tracing over the lower part of my stomach. “Hey, Pretty girl. I missed you.”

“I can see that,” I rasped out, my hand coming down between our bodies to rub over the bulge in his pants. “Come on, baby.” I took a step away from him and extended my hand. His fingers laced with mine as we walked down the hall to my bedroom. I wasn’t sure what Spencer needed tonight, but whatever it was would be easier on the bed.

Once we arrived in my bedroom, I turned to face him, my arms going up around his neck, brushing through his soft curls at the base of his skull.

I was just about to kiss him again when I saw him hesitate; it was just the slightest bit, but I knew him.

“What’s wrong, Spence?” I questioned, my eyes searching his. “We don’t have to do a scene. We can just be together like this.”

“No,” he whispered. “It’s…I don’t want to…I want to do a scene but…”

I was thoroughly confused now, but I waited for him to gather his thoughts and push through his nerves.

“C-can I…”

"Can you what, Pretty Boy?" I moved my hand to brush my fingers across his sharp cheekbone.

“I want to try…can I try to be in charge?”

My eyebrows shot up. “You want to dom me?”

His cheeks were tinged with color. “I...I think so. But only if you’re comfortable with it.”

I had mentioned to Spencer before that I was technically a switch, but I didn’t sub very often. He had always been exclusively interested in being a submissive. While the shift was confusing, I wasn’t against the idea. The thought of my sweet pretty boy having his way with me certainly had its own appeal.

I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his soft lips. “Sure, baby.”

“R-really?!” he squeaked.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his tone before I nodded. “Where do you want me…sir?" I didn't miss the way he shuddered at my words. Even if he was in charge, I couldn't turn off the part of myself that was aware of every single part of him. His every reaction was so erotic to me.

Something in those warm brown eyes hardened. “I want you in only your panties. Then I want you to kneel.”

Well. "Yes, sir." I quickly lowered my eyes to the floor while my fingers unbuttoned my top before shrugging it off my shoulders. My pants and shoes went next, then finally my bra. My hair was in a bun at the back of my head and I almost released it. I knew he liked to grab my hair, but if he wanted it he could take it.

I dropped to my knees by the edge of the bed, my hands resting on my thighs. Loving Spencer Reid meant I noticed things about him, things that he might not even be aware of himself. He was still a little bit uncomfortable with sex, especially the kinkier stuff I liked to do; I knew that if he saw my eyes staring up at him, he'd get nervous and start to question himself.

Usually, I liked to watch in squirm…but not tonight. Tonight, I wanted to see what he had in him, what parts of him I hadn’t seen before.

The air felt thick while I waited to see what my pretty boy would do, I think I was just as nervous as he was. I heard the breath he let out before he started moving, followed by the rustle of fabric. His tie, maybe? I thought.

Spencer walked over to stand over me, his shoes in front of my knees. "Give me your hands."

I complied immediately, keeping my eyes downcast. I had never heard his voice sound like that before. It was raspy, thick, and commanding. It made the ache I felt for him so much more powerful.

He had me press my hands together like I was praying before he wove the tie around my wrists. The knot wasn’t great, I could have gotten out of it easily, but his meaning was clear.

“You’re to keep your hands there, Pretty girl,” he rasped out while I heard the unmistakable clink of his belt opening. “I know how much your hands like to wander. Look at me.”

My eyes slowly slid up his body. His belt was hanging open, his fingers still undoing the button of his pants, the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie was obviously gone. Those messy brown curls on top of his head seemed wilder than normal. None of those things are what made my breath catch in my throat.

His teeth were digging into his bottom lip while he looked down at me, his eyes blazed with desire, but his shoulders were set with a subtle confidence I wasn’t used to seeing.

Spencer Reid looked like a God, and I had never wanted anything more in my life.

After he lowered his zipper, he reached down to touch my face, his thumb running over my lower lip. I pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb that made him smirk. “Open.”

He pushed his thumb between my lips while his other hand freed his cock. I swirled my tongue around his thumb, my eyes never leaving his.

“Fuck,” he muttered, removing his thumb. “You’re always such an eager thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

My answer seemed to amuse Spencer, but he wasn’t deterred from his goal. He gripped his cock and brought it to my mouth. The head was wet with precum that he painted across my lips before his thumb gripped my chin.

I opened my lips and let him guide his cock into my mouth. He slowly moved himself in and out of my mouth at first, letting me get used to him. He was being so sweet, but the urge I felt to please him was overwhelming. I hollowed out my cheeks and started to bob my head.

One of Spencer's hands tangled in my hair while his breath hissed out between his lips. "Fuck, y/n." His head tipped back when I went further down, taking him until he hit the back of my throat. "You're so good at that," he praised.

His hips started moving of their own accord, making shallow thrusts in and out of my mouth. I relaxed my throat as much as I could, letting his cock slide deeper. I felt my throat convulse when I tried to gag around him.

My eyes were watering but I couldn't look away from Spencer. His gaze was fixed on his cock sliding in and out of my mouth, his hand balled up in a fist pressed against his mouth.

He knew how much I liked to hear him. Bastard.

With one final jerk of his hips, he yanked my hair, pulling me away from him. "Stand up," he commanded, his voice shaky but somehow still authoritative.

I stood before Spencer while he admired the mess he had made of me. Tears were smeared down my face, my lips were swollen, and my tongue felt numb.  

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed across my skin right before he brought his lips against mine. I tried to deepen the kiss, my bound hands coming up to grip at his shirt, but Spencer pulled away with a chuckle.

"Always so needy," he whispered slowly unwinding his tie from my hands. "Go lay on the center of the bed. Put your hands by your sides. If you touch yourself in any way, the next knot will be harder to get out of," he warned.

He watched me move towards the bed while he worked on the buttons of his shirt before pulling it off. Spencer wasn't overly muscled; his body was slim and well-toned, but he still had a softness to him that never failed to make my heart clench. He really was such a pretty boy. I laid in the center of my bed while he removed the last of his clothing. I didn't make it easy for him this time, I never took my eyes off of him.

“See something you like, Princess?”

I nodded my head, smiling at him. “Always, sir.”

Spencer laughed openly while he moved his body over mine, his face level with my own. "You're a brat," he huffed out before he gave me another kiss. This one was hungrier than the last, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip. My body was shifting restlessly under his, desperate for any sort of friction.

“I’ve got you, Pretty Girl,” he muttered against my skin while he kissed his way across my cheek and down the column of my throat. Spencer braced himself on his left hand while his right skimmed down my body. His thumb brushed over my nipple, pulling a gasp from me. He lifted his head from my throat to stare down at me when his fingers reach the waistband of my panties.

“Are you wet for me?” He slipped one finger beneath the fabric of my underwear, smirking down at me when he parts my folds. “You like this don’t you, baby?”

All I could do was whimper. The truth is I did like it, and I hadn't expected to.

His hand stilled. "I asked you a question, Princess."

Jesus Christ. "Yes, sir," I whined out. "I like it."

Spencer's hand moved further into my underwear. Two of his fingers sunk inside of me at the very moment his mouth closed around my nipple.

I couldn't control the way my back arched up at the sensation. "Oh my god.”

His fingers started to move faster inside of me while his thumb brushed over my clit. "How many times do we think I can make you cum tonight? Hmm?" Those long beautiful fingers curled up while they thrust into me, hitting just the right spot. "Two? I don't think we've ever had more than two." His brows quirked as he pretended to ponder his options. I couldn't answer, I could barely even think.

The sensations building inside of me already felt overwhelming. My hips moving to meet his fingers. "Please," I moaned.

“Please, what, Princess?”

My wide eyes meet his teasing brown ones. “Please let me cum.”

His head dropped back down to my neck, his mouth leaving a wet trail of kisses on my body as he moved down to my breasts again. "Cum for me, pretty girl."

At his words, the band that was tightening inside of me snapped. My thighs clamped together around his hand trying to hold the pleasure right where I wanted it. His fingers pushed against the flutters of my orgasm, working me through it while I came back down to earth.

“You’re so pretty when you cum.”

My eyes opened to see the smug, smiling face of Dr. Reid. I wanted to tease him but there's something in those eyes of his that gave me pause. This didn't feel over yet.

Spencer pulled his fingers from my pussy, apprising them before he pulled them into his mouth to suck them clean. He moaned at the taste, his eyes never leaving mine. Popping his fingers out of his mouth, he moved to grip the waistband of my panties before he yanked them down my legs.

I felt his nails rake over my skin while his head moved down my body.

"Spence," I whimpered. "I can't it's too soon."

He looked at me then, his face was slightly nervous. "You know the words."

He was absolutely right, I did.

“Are you using them?”

Do I want to? I thought. I'd never been able to cum more than once so quickly…but. "No," I said firmly.

Spencer shot me a smile a moment before he turned his head to the side and sunk his teeth into the skin of my inner thigh, causing me to yelp. "Good. Then don't interrupt me again."

Fuck that shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

He settled on his stomach between my thighs, his arms anchoring around my legs to hold me in place, his forearms on my hips. He watched my reaction when he pressed a kiss to my pussy, and he grinned when I jerked slightly.

I groaned when his tongue parted me, lapping gently against my entrance, tasting the orgasm he gave me a moment before.

My hips were already trying to shift under his hold. "Can I touch you now?"

He just shook his head, clearly amused at my needy question. I couldn't help it. I wanted to feel his curls in my hands, I wanted to hear him moan when I pulled his hair.

And the bastard knew it.

My fingers fisted in the bedsheets when his tongue flicked over my clit. "I can't, I can't," I muttered but even though I didn't think I could, my body didn't seem to agree. With every circle of his tongue, my hips moved to grind against him. He hummed against my pussy right before he took my clit in his mouth.

"Spence," I rasped out, my hands lifting from the bed for the briefest of moments before slamming back down.

He lifted his head and smiled at me, his mouth shiny with my arousal. "What, Princess?"

I thought it was torture before when he was touching me…but now that he stopped it was even worse. "I need…I need…"

His right-hand moved off of my hip to come between my legs. He cocked his head to the side while his index finger brushed up and down my slit. "You…what?"

Bastard. “I need to cum, please.”

He pressed a kiss to my thigh right above the bite mark. "You're so fucking pretty when you beg." His head moved closer and closer to where I needed him to be. "Say it again. Say it right, baby."

I tossed my head back on the bed, my entire body shaking. "Please make me cum, sir. Please. I want to cum on your face."

The room was silent for a beat, causing me to lift my head and look at him. His mouth was poised right over my pussy, his right hand back in its original position around my thigh.

"Good girl," he praised, looking into my eyes right before his face dove back into my pussy. He ate at my pussy like making me fall apart was his very mission in life.

My hips rocked against him while I babbled a refrain of his name and broken pleas for my release. Spencer finally took pity on me, wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking just hard enough to cause me to splinter apart. My vision went white as my entire body bent to his will.

Spencer's tongue flicked against me one more time before he pulled away to gaze down at me. He looked so pleased when he saw my boneless body beneath him. His arms braced on either side of my head while he laid his body on top of mine. I felt his hard cock brush against my pussy while he pressed kisses to my cheeks. "I love it when you say my name when you cum," he breathed.

I licked my lips, trying to focus on his face.

"Oh, my pretty, pretty girl," he teased. "You're almost wrecked for me." He tsked. "Where is the girl that always says that we're not done until she says we’re done? Where’s my girl?”

He was taunting me. He knew that's how he'd get me to do what he wanted. Because I still wanted him, and I never back down from a challenge.

"I'm right here, sir." My voice was hoarse from screaming for him.

Spencer smiled at me. "You've got one more in you, Princess. Get up on your knees."

My limbs felt heavy when I hurried to comply with his request, my elbows threatened to buckle when I braced my upper body on them. Spencer moved away from me, grabbing a pillow and putting is under my body.

"I know the second I put my cock inside that tight, pretty little pussy of yours you're going to collapse," he said while his hands ran over my body. "This way I can still fuck you the way I want to."

My pussy throbbed at his words. He was so…different like this.

And it was so fucking hot.

I felt the blunt tip of his cock brush against my slit, coating himself in wetness.

"Beg me for it," he teased, one hand anchored to my hips while the other is fisted on his cock. "Come on, baby. You've already screamed for me."

My head dropped down to hang between my arms. "I need it, sir. Please."

“You need what?”

“I need your cock, sir. I need it. Please fuck me, Dr. Reid.”

The honorific slipped out without thought. I usually called him Dr. Reid when he was submitting but judging by the groan that tore from his throat he liked it when I said it like this too.

Without further teasing his cock breached my opening, sliding into me in one motion until his hips hit my ass.

I tried to hold my body up, I really did. I wasn’t going to give up.

Spencer’s hand moved up my back, pushing my hair to one side. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. Put your upper body on the bed.”

His words weren’t teasing anymore, they were almost caring. He knew me well enough to know I was almost spent even though we had never done this before.

“I love you,” I whispered while I dropped my elbows. My upper body was on the bed while my ass was in the air, held there by a pillow under me and Spencer’s hand on my hip.

He leaned over my body, somehow causing his cock to push even deeper inside of me. “I love you too, y/n.” He pressed a kiss to the back of my shoulder before his arms came down on either side of me.

Then he started moving. His hips slapped against my ass while he rutted into me, our moment of tenderness long gone.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped out. “You always feel so fucking good.”

His hips started moving differently, his thrusts were harsher and more purposeful.

“Fuck,” I whimpered almost overwhelmed by the sensations he was bringing out of me. I felt his breath against my back, his body sliding against mine.

“You’re getting tighter, Princess. I know you can do it.” Spencer lifted up slightly until he could grip the headboard, totally changing the angle of his thrusts. “Reach down and rub your clit, pretty girl.”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

Slap.

I yelped when his hand connected with my ass cheek. “That wasn’t a request, Princess,” he snarled, his thrusts never slowing. “I told you to reach down and rub your clit. Now.”

My pussy was already starting to spasm around him before I even brushed my fingers against my clit.

Spencer groaned. “You like that, don’t you? Such a dirty, needy little thing, aren’t you?”

"Yes, Dr. Reid." My hips started to shift back to meet his thrusts.

“I can feel it. You’re right there. Cum on my cock, Princess. Or do you want me to cum inside your pretty little pussy first?” Spencer’s voice was as dark and primal as his movements. “Because we both know how much you like it when I cum inside of you. It’s what I think about when I’m away. I fuck my fist and think about what a little cum slut you are.”

His filthy words were what finally drove me over the edge. I wasn't able to bury my head in the mattress quick enough to cover my entire scream when my pussy clamped down around his cock, cumming for him for the third time that night.

I heard Spencer’s hoarse exclamation when my release triggered his own. I felt him pulse inside of me while he gave a few more choppy thrusts.

He pulled out of me a moment later, moving my body on to my back. “Are you okay?”

Gone was the dominant man from a few moments ago. Here was my Spencer, my shy, awkward, wonderful man.

“I’m okay,” I said softly, my body shattered and sleepy.

Spencer’s eyes ran over every part of me. “You’re sure? You feel okay.”

I shook my head, smiling at how relieved he looked. Truthfully, I was relieved too. I knew Spencer would take care of me if I went into sub drop and he would do a marvelous job at that, but I was glad it wasn't something we had to worry about for his first time.

He moved to lay on the bed beside me, pulling my body against his side. “So, what did you think?” he questioned, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“You continue to surprise me, Dr. Reid," I answered sleepily.

Spencer chuckled as his fingers trace up and down the length of my spine. "I missed you."

The last thing I did before I fell asleep was smile and tell him, "I missed you too, Pretty Boy."  

-- 

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