#intern y/n

[starrspice]

Star, spice, and everythig nice. Do you have any Fashion designer AU crumbs

I do indeed!

I colored it just for this ask

So you may have noticed in the original concept drawing But Y/N isn't dressed very fashion forward and instead dresses more casual

But that's only when they work at their internship (because they know whatever fashion designer they work under is going to judge their clothes anyways)

So they dress standard casual at work and then embrace their love of fashion more outside of it so they don't have others criticisms making them second guess the clothes they love

Here's a couple of their favorite outfits to wear to class and in their personal work studio!

[yoyomomiko]

daisuke and anya's intern!reader, who just somehow always end up meeting each other in the hallways, a complete coincidence.

daisuke and anya's intern!reader, who can't help but make out whenever one of their superiors take a break. they can have some fun when they leave the room, that's their break too, isn't it?

daisuke and anya's intern!reader, always flirting with each other every chance they get, not even trying to keep their relationship a secret at this point.

daisuke and anya's intern!reader, who keep getting into dumb situations. daisuke does something stupid, and reader instantly joins in without another word or hesitance.

daisuke and anya's intern!reader, who just keep getting caught making out by their superiors, pulling at each other and getting into a heated mess.

daisuke and anya's intern!reader, getting caught by poor anya, who just wanted to make sure reader was okay and somehow was met with quite a sight, daiuke backed on the small table near the bed and reader's lips to his neck, praising him sweetly as he let out soft whines.

daisuke and anya's intern!reader, getting caught by a grumpy swansea, who just so happened to walk into daisuke's room without knocking, thinking that airhead was sleeping in again. he was also, met with quite a sight. daisuke on top of you, nibbling on your neck, biting softly at your sensitive spots as you huffed.

daisuke and anya's intern!reader, who just don't know how to be discreet.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)

—

“Promotion” (Black Noir x Fem!Reader)

| Being Black Noir’s new handler and him becoming obsessed with you since Mr. Edgar himself assigned you to him.

| SFW, vought employee!reader, (TW: Noir is kind of stalking the Reader, who’s uncomfortable but adapting mostly)

| 1k+ words

“You want me to…what?”

“Be Noir’s new personal handler.” He fans his hands out on the table with a shrug and gives you a disarming smile. “You’ll be expected to parlay direct mission instructions from me, accompany him to said missions and stay with the deployment team. I expect you to give written reports on his performance at the end of every day, active mission or not…”

Your eyes continue to widen as his barrage keeps going. This job would require you to be present for everything short of Noir wiping his ass and even then you’ll be outside the restroom.

Mr. Edgar finishes, gives you an expectant look, and you clear your throat.

“And, what if I don’t want the new position?”

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugs, “I mean unless you don’t think you’re good enough for the promotion. Then I suppose I’ll just have to tell Ashley her recommendation was for naught.”

You laugh.

“No no, that’s fine. There’s no need to tell her anything…” you gulp, watching the man just look back at you before taking a second more to inhale, “…ex-cept that her recommendation payed off.”

He tilts his head and it feels like his eyes are boring through your own, boiling your brain to mush. Your voice is small as you push the rest of your words out in one exhale.

“And that I’ll be starting my new position tomorrow. Sir.”

You stretch a smile across your face and hiss out a sigh of relief as that finally gets the man to respond.

He instantly reanimates, reaching atop his desk to hand you a secure black portfolio made from hard plastic.

“That’s great. I’m glad you decided to take on this new journey, Ms. L/n. May it serve you well. Have a good day.”

You don’t dare drop your smile as you take the offered portfolio and shove it under your arm.

“Right.” You take a moment to mourn the loss of your old job before nodding, “Thank you for the opportunity, Sir. You have a good day as well.”

The older man nods back at you, attention immediately gone back to his computer monitor afterward. You blow out air from your nose and then turn on your heels.

It’s not until you’ve left the board room that it hits you.

“Shit.”

The man had just played you. Goddamn Edgar and his resoluteness. Once he’d decided to “ask” you about the upgrade in position he never intended for it to be an actual request.

You rub your temple and head to the restroom. At least you had the rest of the hours in the day before tackling your new job.

You hunker down in the stall after peeing to look over the papers Mr. Edgar gave you. As you're skimming through a whole lot of shit marked “classified” or “redacted” you have the stray thought to be glad that Translucent’s creep ass wasn’t here to ogle you and be all in your business anymore.

Thank the higher power for small mercies, you suppose.

All the snippets of information you're gathering are kind of baffling. Legal name: Earving (of all things), biological male, six foot two, African-American (that’s fun; may be the reason he took such a liking to you too, not many black people made it to the top floors of Vought after all). You dog-ear a packet about some sort of imaginary animals he sees in his mind before looking over a page about a severe peanut allergy. Hmm.

By the end of the day you’ve nearly gotten all the way through Noir’s portfolio, and you’ve also worked up an itch to get out of your skin that means you’re not working overtime worth a goddamn.

At six o’clock on the dot all of your crap is already quite thoroughly packed, your former workspace - barren thing that it already was due to regulations - was cleaned out and ready for the next poor soul, and you’re in the elevator heading for the sub-level garage.

Dead stare locked onto the floor numbers you become acutely aware of the bags weighing your eyes down.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

Black Noir's Personal Handler.

Despite Mr. Edgar’s clear efforts it was more than a little known open secret that personal handlers rarely got to retire. Madelyn Stillwell’s death might’ve been something none of you dared discuss for fear of either Edgar or - heaven forbid - Homelander catching wind and putting you back in your place, but it was a pattern of the job that you all were well aware of.

Though you’d take Mr. Edgar’s culling over whatever Homelander could possibly come up with.

Something about his blonde, blue-eyed, ass didn’t sit right with your spirit.

Far as PR and wrangling went though, short of maybe Starlight, any wrinkles Black Noir managed to make would be the easiest to smooth out.

Plus, even with you and Noir having some form of a pre-established relationship it was in no way dependent or built upon you being Noir’s emotional epicenter like Madelyn and Homelander’s weird…dynamic was.

You had seen and heard far too much in your years working for Vought to think for a second that there wasn’t something dark and twisted going on with The Seven, but Noir still seemed mellow in comparison to the rest and their constant ego trips and dick measuring.

You had zero clue how letting the fully covered man teach you a few notes to a song at the Christmas party when everyone was drunk off eggnog and watered down booze and sitting with him when he was crying on the floor once led you to this.

Sure the silent man and you had somewhat hit it off - so far as you were one of the few non-supers he didn’t intimidate or just flat out ignore - but to be made so intimately in charge of him seemed like a bit much.

Noir had seemed endlessly patient with you as he played for you and then eventually decided he’d teach you how to play the piano yourself, the sides of your bodies’ shifting incrementally until you were pressed flush to one another in both of yous concentration, so you could really only hope he kept that same levelness with you as his handler.

You bank the corner, work bag and portfolio on the same arm, and fish out your keys so you can unlock your trunk and shove your shit inside.

Hope truly was the name of the game here unfortunately. You could only hope Noir kept up his “good” streak, and that that streak wasn’t just a farce that you were now in charge of covering up. Hope that he didn’t end up getting angry or reckless and making you one of those *redacted* cases with a ‘cause of death, unknown’ attached to your name, because you could do nothing to stop him if he wanted to kill you.

Shiver racking up your spine and turning your blood to static, you snap your trunk closed, turning to leave when—

“—Fucking Christ!”

Eyes gone wide and spit having nearly choked you from your sharp inhalation before your exclamation, you do your best to appear composed as Black Noir himself steps out from a conclave of shadows to stand in front of you.

The Devil, you find yourself thinking. Had he been following you this whole time?

For his part Noir doesn’t move aside from cocking his head to the side.

Steadily, you force calmness onto yourself. Ignoring that your voice is too high when you call his name.

“Black Noir,” you say, trying to seep the professionalism back into your tone while smoothing down the creases in your pantsuit, “surprised to see you here. What can I do for you?”

The smile you offer him feels wonky even as you command the muscles up, but it’s the best you can do with your heart hammering against your chest as if it wants to run off and leave you behind.

For a couple more beats the man doesn’t do more than size you up presumably before finally - as you were weighing the pros and cons of just getting in your car despite his presence - raising a hand to point at your trunk.

You catch on to his meaning fairly quickly, your smile dropping to something more natural whilst you huff a tiny laugh.

“Oh yeah, guess Mr. Edgar must’ve told you. I’m your new handler - you know, if you had one before that is. I don’t…actually know…” you trail off, shifting on your heels when Noir only continues to keep his stillness.

“Mhm,” you mutter, rocking backwards, just staring until finally Noir shifts and there’s suddenly a pad and pen in his hand.

He flips casually to a clear page before starting to write and you’re fairly sure this is the first time he’s ever actually ‘talked’ to you.

Huh.

Not long after does the pad get flipped over and brandished to you. You click your teeth together.

‘Edgar says you’ll do good,’ he scribbles, writing absolute chicken scratch and letters far too large on the medium sized pages, before flipping the pad back to himself and writing some more.

‘Believe in you!’ and a whole bunch of smiley faces is what meets you once he lets you see.

You blink. Noir puts the pad back wherever he had it initially to give you two thumbs up.

You muster a slightly bigger half smile for his efforts.

“Thanks Noir,” you say, words more sincere than you’d been expecting.

A nod and an eternity more of silence and staring is what he gives you in response.

You’re getting ready to shift, to awkwardly relay that you’d like to be getting home soon, when Noir stiffens suddenly - and isn’t that startling, a man so tall and so strapped with sharp explosive deadly things going so alert like that - head tilting like he’s listening for something.

A few seconds go by like that where he doesn’t do anything else and you fight to keep yourself still, smile gone and part of your lip caught firmly between your teeth.

Then Noir’s giving you a nod and leaving just as silently and unseenly as he had come.

You wait another two-three beats before scrambling into your car. The sound of your lock engaging sounds like salvation and the steering wheel feels like a lifeline as you grip it with stiff nearly foreign fingers.

God.

You force a deep breath into your lungs, make sure it comes out more steadily than it came in.

At least Mr. Edgar didn’t dump you onto Homelander’s lap. Something in you shrivels up and dies at the mere prospect. You nod, your hands flexing on the steering wheel.

This was definitely better.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is a semi companion story to “Pandora’s Melody” if you’d like to check that one out as well.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[arjudy224]

The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area. Unfortunately for me, they saddled the newest intern to do all the heavy lifting. Young joints and all that jazz. At least I got an invite. The invites ran out before the IT guy could get one. Poor Eddie.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. It's been a long time since we last spoke.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, his familiar smile knocks over my defenses. Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs, "It's nice to see you back in Gotham. It's been a long time."

"It has. From the rumors, you have been up to quite a bit of trouble." I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve kept tabs on me Y/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”

[upat4amwiththemoon]

amelia shepherd x fem!reader that’s an intern or resident who keeps logging in hours on neuro when they aren’t really interested in it just to see amelia. and eventually amelia noticed and asked why. i don’t really have an idea for an ending but like fluff

girls

Summary: They’re so pretty it hurts.

Pairing: Amelia Shepherd x female!reader

Warnings: my medical knowledge is zero, Scout doesn’t exist

Word count: 911

a/n: Amelia is keeping the whole show together

masterlists | guidelines

“Y/N.” Amelia smiles as she sees the woman she has gotten to know well these past months. “More neuro hours, huh? Should I feel threatened you’ll take my spot as the head of neuro one day?” She grins, holding onto the tablet with all of her patients’ information.

Y/N laughs, following Amelia as they start walking. “No way. I don’t think you should be threatened by anyone.”

“I agree.” Handing the tablet to Y/N, Amelia opens the door to a room full of MRI scan images. They stand there for a moment, watching the images. “What do you see?”

Straightening her posture, she clears her throat and stares at the pictures more closely. “Uhm…a brain tumor?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No.” Y/N shakes her head quickly, turning her gaze to Amelia. “It’s a brain tumor.”

“It is.” Amelia takes down the pictures. “What do we have to do?”

“Do a biopsy to figure out what type of tumor it is.”

Nodding, she puts the pictures aside and gestures for Y/N to follow her. They walk through the hospital hallways, all the way to the patient’s room. “Good morning, Mrs Noceda”. Amelia smiles as they settle into the room. She gives Y/N a look, giving her the moment to present the patient.

“Mrs Noceda, 53 years old, came to the hospital yesterday due to multiple complications, a MRI scan was made and a tumor was found.” Y/N lists, her eyes staying on the patient and Amelia. “Today’s agenda will be biopsy, which will tell us how to proceed.”

“Does that sound good?”

“Of course, you know best, Doctor Shepherd.” Mrs Noceda has a gentle smile on her face despite everything going on.

“Then we will get you into biopsy right away. Y/N will come and prepare you in just a moment.” Amelia takes the tablet from Y/N after they walk out of the room. “Make sure we have an OR ready soon, then prepare Mrs Noceda for the biopsy.” She writes the new information down on Mrs Noceda’s file.

“Yes, Doctor Shepherd.”

“You’ll join me on the biopsy.”

Y/N’s eyes widen momentarily, but she manages to keep herself in check. “If you wish so, Doctor Shepherd.”

“If you wish so?” With furrowed brows and a confused grin, Amelia turns her attention to Y/N. “A little more excitement would be great.”

“Sorry, I truly am very excited to be in this with you.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but there’s no time to dwell on the details. “Alright. Go get everything ready.”

“Yes, Doctor Shepherd.” With that, Y/N is off to book an OR and prepare Mrs Noceda for her biopsy.

After the biopsy, Y/N and Amelia are waiting to hear back from the lab to get the results. The latter is tapping her fingers against a table as she moves back and forth on the chair. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Y/N is sorting through papers. They’re cases from different branches, ortho, peds, general, cardio, and so on.

“Don’t take this as an attack,” now Y/N’s attention moves to Amelia, “why do you keep logging hours in neuro? You don’t seem too interested in it. Which I don’t get, neuro is easily the best and you’re really good at it.”

”Oh.” Y/N avoids eye contact. She didn’t think Amelia would notice her lack of interest to neuro despite the many hours she spends with the doctor. “Well…” she searches for words, though it’s clear she isn’t finding any.

“Are you here because of me?” Amelia has a playful grin on her face, which changes immediately as she notices Y/N somehow becoming even more uncomfortable. “You are?”

She lets out a breath, her cheeks puffing as she nods. “Maybe.” Her voice is a quiet mumble.

Amelia doesn’t know how to answer, not expecting this to be the actual reason for Y/N’s decision to spend time in neuro. She sits up straighter, pulling the chair closer to Y/N with her legs.

“I understand if you wish me to stop doing neuro.” Y/N says quickly.

She shakes her head. “I want you to do neuro if you enjoy it. I don’t want you to be here while wishing to log more hours into something else.” Her voice is gentle and comforting. “You are an intern, and I am in a position of power,” Y/N opens her mouth, but Amelia raises her hand to stop her, “however, I would be lying if I said I haven’t gotten…attached.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Amelia smiles when Y/N’s whole face brightens. “Don’t get too excited. All of this, whatever it is, has to happen slowly and discreetly, preferably out of the hospital.”

“I understand.”

“And you have to start logging hours into the branches you’re actually interested in.”

Y/N’s face falls momentarily, but she smiles quickly. She knows it’s for the better, she won’t become a good doctor by pining after someone while doing something she isn’t interested in. “Okay. I’ll start logging hours on other things too.”

“Good.”

“So…” Y/N fidgets with her fingers. “Does that mean we could go on a date?”

“We’ll go on a date. After we help Mrs Noceda with her tumor.”

She giggles in excitement. “Yes, Doctor Shepherd.” Amelia rolls her eyes with a grin, patting her arm before moving her chair right next to Y/N, curious with the other cases she’s studying.

[lustnhim]

elvis preforming at the LV international (7-31-69) 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

gives off some vamp elvis vibes + him in black is 🤤🤤🤤

[iliketangerines]

you look good like this

pairing: dom!johnny cage x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), overstimulation, vibrators, facefucking, bondage, praise kink, camera kink (?)

you can’t say you’re surprised when Johnny finally reveals that the extra door in his bedroom leads to a sex room

you can’t even say you’re really surprised that the sex room is bigger than his actual bedroom

you can say that you are surprised at how much he loves using the toys and fixtures in the sex room on you

for a man with an ego so high, you would think he would prefer to make you cum on only his fingers and his cock to try and prove a point

but as Johnny straps you to a new toy he had gotten a few days ago just for you, you realize you’re sorely mistaken

you’re sitting on the machine, dildo snug inside of your pussy and a textured material rubbing directly along your clit

he’s tied your arms behind your back, and your knees to two hooks in the floor, so you can’t get off the machine if you wanted to, he’s also tied your hips down to the machine so you can’t squirm around at all

he’s also tied an intricate rope design around your upper torso, the rope scraping roughly against your skin every time you move

before bringing you to the machine, he spent an hour just teasing you, softly grinding into you while sucking dark hickeys in your chest and pinching at your nipples

and now, your pussy is dripping down the machine onto the floor as he admires his work, 

but you can’t even beg him to start the machine because he’s lightly slapping at your face and laughing at how you’re already drooling

‘all fucked out already? i haven’t even started!’ he teases you before pulling his cock out his pants and slaps his dick against your cheek

your head follows his cock trying to get a taste of him, but he just grips on your chin, forcing your tongue to stick out, and uses his other hand to slap the tip of his dick against your tongue

that’s all he does for a while, teasing himself and slowly pumping himself right in front of your face as you strain to leave forward to try and get a taste

finally he relents, telling you that if you want to get off, you’re gonna have to work for it

and so, you greedily suck him into your mouth, trying to prove to him that you’re a good slut, that you deserve to cum

he’s got a tight grip in your hair as you suck him off, trying to control himself as watches your lips stretch around his dick

you’re bobbing your head, slowly working your way down to the base, but Johnny gets impatient and shoves your head down

you gag at the sudden feeling and your head jerks backward, but he keeps your nose firmly buried in the base of curls

as you grow light-headed, he pulls you off, and you take deep raspy breaths, trying to regain your bearings

he coos at how whorish you look and pulls out his phone to take a picture of how fucked-out you look

he then starts to record, forcing your mouth back on his cock and moving your head up and down on his dick

you let him fuck your throat and try to grind your hips down on the textured material pressing against your clit, but it’s impossible with the way he’s tied you down

he notices how desperate you are and tells you that if you can make him come, he’ll turn the machine on, and you whine around his dick, causing Johnny to moan at the vibrations

he then puts his phone away, gripping onto your head with both hands and starts fucking into your throat viciously

you can feel the tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat, and you hollow out your cheeks to try and bring Johnny closer to the finish line even though tears start streaming down your cheeks from the lack of air

he groans at the sensation of your wet warm mouth tightening around him and tells you that you’re doing so well, letting him fuck your face like this, that you look so good sucking his dick, that he should keep you like this

you moan at the words, and the vibrations send him over

he shoots ropes of cum down your throat, and you take it, drinking it all and letting it warm your stomach

he finally pulls out of your mouth and tucks his softening dick back into his pants, and you stick your tongue out to prove you’ve swallowed all of his cum

at this point, you’ve soaked the machine, and you’re desperate for any stimulation

he smiles and pats the side of your tear-stained cheek and takes a remote out of his pocket and finally turns the machine on

you whimper as the machine vibrates against your clit, and the dildo inside of you starts slowly fucking into you, the tip of the toy bullying your sweet spot

you beg, not sure of what you’re asking, but he seems to know exactly what you want, and he turns up the intensity of the machine

you throw your head back as the vibrations sends your mind reeling, and the dildo starts fucking into you faster

you grind down as best you can into the machine when you feel your orgasm approaching

you’re teetering over the edge, the vibrations going straight through your clit, and the dildo fucking perfectly into you

you look at Johnny, and he’s snapping a picture of you, and you come at the sight, eyes squeezing shut as you ride out your orgasm as best you can

however, the sensation of the vibrator and the dildo fucking into you become too much, and you pull at the ropes, trying to get off

you look at Johnny with watery eyes, and he laughs at you, saying that he’s only hit the second setting on the machine and that there are ten

you can barely process the information before he turns up the intensity another notch, and you start to cry as the machine brings you to another blinding orgasm

your mind goes blank as the orgasm rips through you and a high-pitched whine echoes in the air

he pats your cheek, mocking your dazed look, and then tells you to have fun because you’ve got a long way to go

he then says he’s got some work to finish and takes the remote with him, leaving the room and closing the door behind him

the camera in the corner of the room blinks red, and you can only endure the next hour of the pleasurable torture

he watches you diligently on the camera, work abandoned on his desk as he watches you twitch and grind against the machine in your bondage

he teases himself, dipping his thumb into his slit and stroking his own dick languidly, not letting himself come until you’ve reached the highest setting

you, on the other hand, come over and over again on the machine and can only take it as orgasms tear through your body

soon, your cum is dripping onto the floor, and your mind is barely coherent

you can barely make out a single sound by the time the machine reaches its highest setting, and you let out a silent scream as the pleasure and pain becomes too much

the vibrations finally stop and the dildo stops fucking into you, and you slump over in your position, sweat dripping down your forehead, and tears blurring your vision

you’re nothing but a limp doll as Johnny saunters back into the room and carefully unties you from the machine and your bondage

he carries you effortlessly to the bedroom and wipes at your forehead with a cool damp rag

you’re half-asleep but still twitch uncomfortably as he tries to carefully clean up your sore and sensitive cunt of your cum

he rubs lotion into the red marks where the ropes had scraped against your skin and props you up to have you drink some water and eat some fruit he cut earlier

he leaves for a bit to wipe down the machine, making a note to give it a more thorough cleaning tomorrow, and comes back to the bedroom soon after 

he pulls you in close, and you nuzzle into his chest

he whispers into your ear endless praises about how you did so well for him and how beautiful you looked, and it fills your chest with a warm and fuzzy feeling

you both fall asleep in each other’s arms

[yayll]

I’ve never seen anyone write this but maybe a reader who is afraid of dogs? Like, really afraid (me😭) only If you wanna do it ofc <3

sweet baby angel thank u for waiting, i hope u like this and it was what u wanted! i think this concept was so fun AND SO FITTING BC DAZAI + DOGS... A MESS. and when ur involved, chaossss bc he has a little angel and devil on his shoulder. so basically i love u. mwah.

~ a little something about defending your honor... from dogs ~

"Eugh! what a petulant little thing!"

"Osamu! don't bark at it, it'll bite!"

"I thought you were afraid of dogs?! it disrespected you, the ferocious beast!"

You sigh, your nerves only settling just a bit so you can take the time to explain to him the consequences of his actions. You take a deep breath, swallowing with a loud gulp as you tremble.

"He only barked at me, Osamu... Ahh, c'mon, let's just go or he'll do worse! We also can't afford legal troubles if you get arrested for messing with a dog."

He feigns indignation, and stands a little taller.

"I'll have you know the agency would NEVER let me drown in legal fees! And unfortunately, drown in general..."

He then smirks at you, tapping the tip of your nose with a wink as he continues.

"... Besides, I'd make a pretty hot jailbird huh? I wonder, would I be dressed in white like a virginal bride or that awful shade of Orange-"

You cut him off, rolling your eyes as you tug on his arm.

"Can we like, get back to the topic of you beefing with a dog? No one is going to jail."

"Except for me if you won't let me do my job!"

You scoff, raising a brow as you glare at him in disbelief, your eyes darting between the dog and Dazai.

"You already HAVE a job, and you barely do it might I add."

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and giving you an exhasperated sigh like the brat he is. He knows you eat it right up! He does it for you, after all. Though with the way you look so afraid and skittish right now, he can barely hide how thrilled it makes him to be able to at least distract you from the situation with his antics. The unstoppable jester in your sweet court.

"Oh please, you're just deflecting now. You know I'm a dabbler! You can't pin me down!"

You nod in faux understanding, unable to hide the smile that's beginning to imprint itself on your face as you try to resist his nonsensical charms... And failing as always.

"Ah.. Right, right. Can we just go? I'm kind of freaking out right now."

He clicks his tongue and walks closer to you, leaning in and scanning your very aura with his trademark elusiveness, as if x-raying your soul. He has no use for the concept of personal space, and it's even worse when the scent you're currently wearing keeps roping him closer and closer.

"Just answer me something. Would you visit me in prison? Y'know, for bringing justice against the criminal offenses being carried out on you today by this little rat?"

He states firmly, not really a question at all. He glares at the dog, who begins to slowly cower away from you both as if getting the message.

You tilt your head, shrugging as you think it through despite how abrupt the circling back of the topic was. Dazai really was odd when he wanted to be, but his offputting nature was one of the most alluring things about him, it was over for you the second you both laid eyes on each other.

"... Well, I'd think it's silly that that's the reason you ended up there, but of course I would."

He smiles wide at that. Of course you would.

You eventually manage to mediate the altercation between the canine and your boyfriend after much bickering; the dog leaves you both alone and you go on with the rest of your day together in as much peace as one can have around Dazai. When it gets late, you part ways with a lengthy kiss goodnight, everything from the earlier melting away into a fuzzy bliss when he squeezes your waist and whispers your favorite things into your ear before reluctantly letting you go. You're starting to walk a few feet the opposite way when your cellphone begins to ring.

It's Dazai.

You pick it up and mumble with confusion, seeing as you just left him.

"Osamu?"

You can hear mischief in his voice when he replies, his voice dropping to a low and sultrier tone laced with something else you can't identify.

"Bark Bark."

"Huh?"

"Hi again, honey!~ Just wanted to let you know that the only dog allowed to bark at you is me. You better run along home now, or I might just follow you~"

"Ah, I'm trembling."

You roll your eyes, but the pink hue in your cheeks betray your sarcasm.

"Oh my! Don't say that, I'm not liable for whatever happens next if you keep talking to me so dirtyyy."

You turn around, smirking as you shake your head in mock disapproval at the way he won't let this topic fully die down. You just have to admire his commitment to the bit... And the way he shamelessly flirts with you every chance he gets. You find him simply staring at you with such intensity, not having moved at all from where you had said goodbye with his phone glued to his ear, his smugness practically glowing as if it were radioactive.

He waves, blowing you a kiss like the menace he is.

You catch it, laughing softly as you bring your closed fist to your mouth. This causes him to clutch his chest and stumble as if he were about to fall backwards, giggling before sticking his hands into his coat pockets to finally be on his way.

When you start walking again, he stops one more time, turning back to watch you with his forever attentive eyes. They darken at the memory of you being so afraid earlier, a small smile tugging at his lips when he thinks about how much more carefree and content you looked just a second ago... Because of him. He meant it when he said he'd defend your honor and he thinks it's adorable how you don't think about the awful things he's done to others in the past for much less.

It's a Bark Bark world and he's happy to be on your leash. What can he say? You keep him a virtuous man.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Bucky makes you a meal for international Woman’s Day.

(This is a re-upload so that’s why it’s late)

A tiny piece of writing I may or may not have thrown together.

I never wrote anything for IWD and I wanted to indulge myself but I think this came out kind of rubbish I can’t lie. It won’t stop me from posting it though.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None!

-

It had been 8 months since you started dating the grumpy super soldier, or as everyone else liked to call him, Bucky.

Those 8 months had been the best in your life. He’d supported you through thick and thin and you in turn helped him through the issues he dealt with.

-

You knew Bucky’s past, born in 1917 and after being captured in 1945 he’d never been free until recently this also meant that he’d never learned of the world events during his time as the Winter Soldier. This is why it came as a surprise when you opened the door to your apartment, the smell of fresh cooking whacking you straight in the face.

“Bucky?” You questioned, his stubbled face poked out from the kitchen.

“Hey sweetheart, how was work?” He flashed you a genuine smile.

“It was alright, same old stuff”.

He nodded intently at your words, walking from the kitchen dressed in your frilly pink cooking apron to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Why are you being so sweet?” You accused with a jabbing finger into his large pec.

“What? Am I not allowed to spoil my girl” he chuckled, wrapping his beefy arms around your smaller frame.

“Bucky” the words laced with warning.

“Fine, fine” he pushed himself back to gaze into your eyes with his big blues.

“I was talking with Natasha and she told me that yesterday was International Woman’s Day, I never knew that was a thing” he explained. His eyes never once fell from your own.

“So, since you weren’t here yesterday I thought we could celebrate it today, together” he flashed you his pearly whites. God, you loved this man.

With his hands on your shoulders, he directed you to your dining room. He’d laid out a perfect selection of dishes for you both to pick at and your favourite wine was cooling in an ice bucket.

“Bucky this beautiful, thank you” you gasped, he’d done all this for you, all because of yesterday. You’d never expected him to do anything because of his age and knowledge but he’d gone to such an effort.

“Anything for my little lady”

He sealed his words with a kiss to your lips, a kiss that left you weak at the knees. A kiss so filled with love you were sure Cupid was working overtime.

He was once in a lifetime and you weren’t letting him go.

[starrspice]

Take this silly Idea I had

Sun and Moon are famous fashion designers and are known to be rather high maintenance and demanding.

Meanwhile Y/N is forced to take a position as their personal assistant (if they don't stick with the internship they don't graduate)

They run Y/N ragged and drive them crazy with their outrageous demands.

[naffeclipse]

Finished your latest chapter, and I was at rge ended if my seat from beginning to end. Amazing!

And at the end of the chapter I thought of an inquiry:

What if y/n is a hunter/fisherman instead of a photographer? How would they have met, and what would the dynamics be like? Would they bring each other kills to give to the other to show off? Or in Eclipse's case, courting gifts? Still would figure y/n wouldn't realize what Eclipse is actually doing.

Oh, man, I just flashbacked to Fisher Y/N from Deep Waves but for an AP fisher? They'd be a bit disgruntled and grumpy. Very hard working, set on the task and won't stop until it's done. They've got a shell that rivals crabs. Very gruff but has a heart hidden somewhere under all those brusque layers.

Of course, you're spooked when Eclipse pops his head up (he's a lot more terrifying, not trusting humans on their boats with their harpoons.) Still, once he sees that you're alone and also, well, pretty, he tones it back a bit to actually talk to you while still dangling you halfway off your boat above the icy cold of the sea. You manage to yell at the siren to put you back. While Eclipse does so, he promises to bring you fine fish, the best of the best. You wave him off like "Yeah, yeah, as long as you don't ruin my nets and don't kill me."

The next day, he's got a fat catch. You thought you got rid of him, but like a stray cat that's been fed once, he's back. If he can chat, he can help you push the nets onto your boat so the fish don't flop out and get away. You might pick one cod out (the best one but you would rather die before admitting so) and toss it to Eclipse for his lunch, as thanks, or something like that. Eclipse would beam at the exchange of gifts so soon but you're too busy trying to not slip on the half-frozen, half-wet deck to notice.

You know sirens are bad news, but you have the mindset of 'Eclipse hasn't killed me yet, and there's work to be done, so I better hop to it.' That kind of attitude, however, is what gets you into Eclipse's mandated cuddle sessions as he decides you've been working too long and require a break. Guess who is getting yanked across the deck, forcibly cradled, and persuaded to take a twenty-minute break by a large, touchy siren? You, of course!

It's unusual to endure this kind of attention (and maybe you thought no one would touch you like this, make you feel like you're not just a ghost on the sea.) You put your shoulder to the wheel and get the catch while navigating Eclipse's hands of avarice.

You learn quickly that there's no use trying to get out of his arms once he has you. You also learn that he likes seals, but you try to catch squid and even, once or twice, small sharks for him to snatch on. He returns the favor with a bounty of fish and even guides you to better fishing spots. He's always eager to hand you the fish he catches to you personally. You don't think too much of it when you take it in your gloved hands and his grin widens. (You think he looks infatuated whenever you stumble upon an old seashell or half-plucked feathers or shiny, chipped scales and figure he might think it's pretty, but you don't take it to heart—he probably just likes trinkets.)

One day, when the sea is calm and the fish are nowhere to be found, Eclipse decides you are due for a break. You both lounge on the deck of your smelly boat. You don't even push away Eclipse's hands while precious work minutes slip by, resting your head on his chest to his great pleasure. Eclipse manages to coax a few confesses from your lips with a few slippery musical notes in his voice. You really don't know why you start rambling like this, like a fool. You tell him you don't have anybody, but nobody has you. Sometimes, you don't feel like a person because the only time you talk to another human being is when business over the fish is conducted. You're so used to not having anyone to talk to that when you talk to Eclipse, your voice becomes hoarse and dry, but you don't mind. You don't mind at all, lately.

He tells you in that way of his that is as true as the sun and moon that he has you. You don't believe him, but you pull out a little... gift you've been quietly crafting for the past while you've known him.

Now is as good as ever to give him a simple piece of jewelry you made with a cord and yet another seashell that's so old and pale pink that no one will notice or care for it, but he takes it from you with awe. He ties it around his wrist and shows you how pretty it looks against his black and white markings. He says you need to strengthen your voice. You need to talk to him more. He will listen, and he will listen when you sing, too. The mere thought of you singing of all things jars you enough to finally pull you out of this fancy and get you back on your feet, scouring the sea for fish to catch.

Eclipse is still wearing the seashell when he drops back into the water, and he doesn't let you out of his sights on the sea. You're left to wonder if you're a fool for giving a siren a gift or for feeling pleased that he wears it so proudly.

[delulu-with-wandanat]

International Affair

Welcome to my shameless self-insert series🤭 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Last

Reader Description: Masculine style, They/He, AFAB, International Student, 20 Years Old. Sometimes will be describe using masculine terms (man, boy, handsome, etc)

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x InternationalStudent!Reader

Warnings: Specified age gap (Wanda is 34).

Summary: For their summer break, Y/n decided to spend it in a little town called Westview. It was there when they met Wanda Maximoff. A woman in her 30s with two kids, who seems to be attracted to the college student despite being married.

New York University's tuition was fucking ass. It really is, at a whopping $64,000 tuition fee per year. And that's only the tuition fee, the total estimate of studying in NYU plus living cost was probably over $90,000. Exactly it's fucking insane. Despite receiving a sponsorship from their parent's good friend and also financial aid from NYU, he still needed to figure out how to pay it back.

Sometimes they feel like smacking their head for choosing to study in a city where it's known for its back bank breaking living cost. Can you blame him though? Those tall buildings, shining lights, bustling nightlife, sounds of gunshots, and a huge opportunity for a creative person such as themselves, along with a dash of capitalism. Y/n couldn't help but be fascinated. That American dream that he had been chasing since he saw the Devil Wears Prada.

It was now summer vacation. Instead of going home for the summer, Y/n decided to join this Homeshare Summer program. Basically an elderly person provides home for students to share during the summer. The benefits are plenty, but most notably, cheaper housing rent. His roommates also joined this program, together they sublease their apartment. Adding extra funds to their breaking bank account.

In return, the students must help their elderly host with basic domestic needs. Mostly light household tasks; preparing and sharing meals, tidying up, chores, walking a pet, etc.

Y/n ended up matching with someone in a small town called Westview somewhere in New Jersey. As much as he loves New York, he wanted to spend his summer somewhere else in America.

He matched with a lovely widow named Melina Vostokoff. He learned that she has 2 daughters, both whom are adults with their own respective career. She needed a companion, understandably so, and Y/n was more than happy to assist her in anyway she might need.

"Y/n." Melina called.

"Yes, Mrs. Vostokoff?" Y/n looked up from their laptop, they were sitting on the dinner table editing some footage.

"Oh dear, please, I told you to call me Melina."

"Sorry, Melina. Force of habit." He said with a smile. "What's up?"

"Would you please send all this batches of cookies around the neighborhood? I already have a list of houses on where you can drop them." Melina is known for sharing batches of cookies for free around the neighborhood. Why? Out of kindness.

And also the fact that she loves baking, but ended up not being able to finish it all. So she shares them around the neighborhood.

"Sure, Melina! I'll do that right away."

So he sets of to drop off delicious dessert for Westview citizens. Melina had told them that this was a good chance to ask around for a summer job as well. Which is what he had initially planned to do anyway. Finally they reached the last house, Maximoff Household. They weren't so lucky with the other neighbors, but last one's a charm right? He rang the doorbell.

A person then opens the door. "Hello, I was just-" Holyfucking shit. This woman was absolutely gorgeous.

"May I help you?" She ask, god her voice is sexy.

"Uhhh..." Snap out of it! "Sorry! I'm Y/n, I'm the student staying over the summer at Mrs. Vostokoff. She told me to drop off her Bi-Weekly batches of cookies."

Wanda wasn't stupid, she noticed their nervousness and found it adorable. "Lovely to meet you, Y/n. I'm Wanda, Wanda Maximoff." She offered her hand.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Maximoff." He shook her hand.

"Do you go to Westview University?" She was rather intrigued by the younger one.

"No, ma'am. I actually go to NYU, I'm studying film production."

Wanda raised an eyebrow and smiled. "How impressive. Though I must ask, why choose to spend your summer here?"

Damn... her smile.

"Mainly a much cheaper living cost, other than that I figured It'll be good for me to explore other parts of America. New Jersey is not far so it's a good place to start."

"Ah, an International student I see. Is it one of those Homeshare programs?"

"It is!" The student beamed.

What a charming smile he has, Wanda thought to herself. "Say, how old are you, Y/n." She ask while leaning against the door frame, her tone was... rather flirty.

"Um... I'll be turning 21 this year." Wanda hummed at the answer. For what reason Y/n doesn't know either. "Here are your cookies, ma'am." Well shit, he was getting nervous again. Obviously, Wanda staring at him with a look he can't quite pin.

"Oh! Thank you, dear. My sons absolutely love Melina's cookies." She took the container from them.

"Well that's no surprise, I could live off from those cookies alone." They said while laughing lightly. "So I take it you've lived here for a while?"

"Yes, I've lived here for years with my twin boys and husband." Damn it, they thought. "Anything you would like to know?"

"Yes actually! I've been looking for a summer job, but I haven’t had any luck."

"Well, lucky for you, a friend of mine who owns the Cafe in town is looking for a new Barista. She just recently opened the position."

"That's great news! Thank you so much for letting me know, Mrs. Maximoff." They said with a smile, Wanda had another idea in mind.

"However, I think they're only offering part-time. If you're looking for some extra work, I may need a few... help around the house. Would you be interested?" She asked with a devilish smile.

Y/n, being too excited at the possibility of finally landing a job, failed to notice the flirty undertone in Wanda's sentence. "Absolutely!"

"Splendid! Come over to my house tomorrow and we'll discuss the details."

"I will see you tomorrow, Mrs. Maximoff. Thank you again!" The young man said with a bright smile, he started walking backwards onto the sidewalk.

"See you tomorrow, Y/n." Once they turned their backs on her, Wanda bit her lip. She had multiple things in mind for Y/n to help her with.

I did a quick research on the law of international students working in the US. I didn't get into detail but it basically said yes but there are restrictions. So ignore the actual laws, and y'know just - whatever man it's a fanfic :') When I saw the estimated cost of studying in NYU i almost cried-

Also I hope you guys don’t mind I go with a more masculine reader for this one (i really want to be called a good boy by Wanda)

I hope the reader description doesn’t confuse you guys, if it does. Its ok, i self inserted myself and im very confused abt my gender-

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

Hi I saw that you were wanting requests, I’ve been having this idea in my mind since I’ve read something similar in a Spencer fic, but instead of working for Penelope she works for Hotch as an intern. So the concept is the reader would be a new intern for something but she hangs around with Penelope a lot so she starts answering phone calls from Hotch in a similar way that Pen does for Derek and the first time it happens the reader gets all flustered but as time goes on the reader gets more confident. Possibly leading into Hotch asking the reader out? Just a bunch of fluff. (Please let me know if this idea is not good or can’t be used)

A/N: Oh my god thank you so much for this request anon! This was the first thing I’ve written in a while and it was a lot of fun. I took some liberties with the prompt but I tried to stay loyal to the request. This is my first Aaron fic so I hope you guys like it :)

Word count: 1.7K (holy shit I’ve never written anything this long)

Aaron Hotchner x intern!reader

age gap

Hotch is in his 40s and reader is in mid to late 20s

Working for the FBI was itself a demanding job, but being Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner’s intern? That was a whole other story. Obtaining a Masters in psychology was great and all but the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit was always my end goal, so getting to intern was a dream come true and I was determined not to blow it. Unfortunately, while working at the BAU I discovered another dream of mine, Aaron Hotchner. As I was nearing the end of my twenties and more concerned with academics and my career, it meant that there wasn’t much room for a love life, but a girl can dream can’t she?

I’m broken out of my reverie as I enter the bullpen.

“Morgan, have you seen Hotch yet this morning? I have those case files he was looking for.” I asked as I sidled up next to his desk.

“Sorry pretty girl I haven’t—never mind.” I look at Morgan with confusion written on my face.

“Sorry, I was running late.”

I tighten up a little before turning to address Hotch.

“Morning boss! No need to worry. I think that you’re allowed to be late every once in a while.” I say with a small smile. ‘Late to work’ isn’t in Aaron “punctuality” Hotchner’s vocabulary, so for him to show up late meant that something must have sent his morning off kilter.

Hotch started towards his office and I followed him, determined to finish the task set before me. He opens the door and holds it for me. I follow him through letting it close behind me to give us some privacy.

“Is everything alright with you this morning Aaron? You seem a little off.”

Hotch struggled to meet my eyes before replying, “What? Oh. Yes I’m fine. Jack woke up with a fever, so I had to wait on Jess to stay with him before I could leave the house.”

“Aw poor Jack,” I say as I place the files on an unoccupied area of Hotch’s desk.

“Thank you Y/N. Could you go and get Garcia, it’s time to start briefing the team.” I nod and exit his office closing the door shut behind me.

I walk to Penelope’s lair and let myself in. Since I’m only an intern, and have no field training, I am confined to the office. This means that I spend most of the time that Hotch is on a case with Penelope. This also means that Penelope is aware of my tiny monumental crush on our boss

“Ah good morning my dove! What brings you to me this beautiful morning?” Penelope’s sunshine demeanor is contagious bringing a smile to my face.

“Hello! Unfortunately I am here on business not pleasure, Aaron wants to start the briefing.”

“We must be on our way then. We can’t leave Aaron waiting, can we?” Penelope said while wiggling her eyebrows at me.

I blush realizing that she caught my mistake. “Hotch. Hotch wants to start the briefing.” I sigh knowing that my attempt to cover up my mistake was in vain. I quicken my pace to catch up with Garcia as she enters the conference room. When we walk in most everyone is already in their seats chatting comfortably. I look around and notice that the only available chair is the one next to Hotch and I steel my face as to not clue him in on my recent and obvious casualty surrounding my feelings for him. When I sit down he sends me a soft smile before calling everyone’s attention to the newest case that would be taking them to Nashville.

——

The team had landed safely in Tennessee, and by the next day I was out of things to do so I decided that the best way to spend my time was doing whatever I could to help the team by aiding Penelope.

I knock on the door before letting myself in announcing my entrance, “Good morning beautiful! How can I be of assistance to technical genius Penelope Garcia today?”

Garcia turned to look at me quickly before facing her computer once again. “Hello my lovely! Grab a seat and I’m sure I can find something for you.” As I’m settling myself in at the desk I hear the phone ring.

“Can you answer that for me love?” I nod and pick up the phone.

“Hey babygirl, how’s miss smart and sexy today?”

“Sorry to disappoint you Morgan, but I don’t think I’m the girl you’re looking for.”

“You’re never a disappointment y/l/n, although Garcia’s expertise may be more helpful in this situation.”

“Roger that. Passing you along.”

As I heard Penelope and Derek’s flirty phone banter, I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to do the same thing with Hotch.

———

I had been combing through files for helpful information for the past couple of hours. My eyes were sore and my heart was heavy, nothing seemed to be of much use. I leaned back from the files and let out a sigh.

“Is everything alright my precious flower?”

I crack a small smile before responding, “Yeah yeah everything’s fine, just a lot on my mind.”

“Anything you want to talk about love?” I let out another small sigh.

“I was just thinking about my love life, or lack thereof.”

“You’re a catch hot stuff! You just need to put yourself out there. Anybody would be lucky to call themselves yours.”

“Just put myself out there. Easier said than done.”

I spent the next few hours thinking about what Penelope said while continuing my work.

Put myself out there, I can do that. What’s the worst that could happen? Flirting with your boss never has serious consequences. No. Yes. I can’t keep hiding my feelings, sooner or later someone is going to realize. It’s not like I’m subtle.

After forming my plan, all I could do was wait for the right time. Luckily I didn’t have to wait long.

Ring Ring Ring

I check the caller I.D. to see Hotch’s name flash up at me, and I flip open my phone. “Speak and I will obey.”

There was a pregnant pause making me second guess jumping straight into the deep end.

“Y/N, I need you to get an old file for me. It’s in the filing cabinet in my office. Once you have that I need to to send it to me ASAP.”

“Yes sir. Your wish is my command.”

I can hear him hesitate before answering, “…Thank you.”

——

The next time I’m in contact with Aaron is when the team returns from the case the next day. Everyone is cleaning up their workspaces getting ready to head home. I’m chatting with Reid about a new book that he had read when I hear Aaron’s voice call for me.

“Y/N, could I see you in my office.”

My mouth opens and closes slightly before I nod and walk up the few steps to his office. I step inside on uneasy feet. I couldn’t help but shake the nervousness around me.

“Shut the door and have a seat.” I do as I’m told. I begin twiddling my thumbs and it seems like hours before he talks again although it has only been a few moments. “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”

“Oh my god I’m so sorry. You’re gonna fire me aren’t you? I wouldn’t blame you. Oh my god-“

“Y/L/N.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“Y/N stop talking.” I look up quickly and shut up. “I’m not firing you. I’m just - I’m just a little confused. Yesterday seemed a little out of character for you.”

I let out a shuddered sigh, “I was- I was putting myself out there.”

“Putting yourself out there?”

I look him in the eyes before saying, “I guess I’m going all in. I know you’re my boss and I know it’s inappropriate for me to even be saying this but…I like you Aaron—romantically. You don’t have to respond…I know I’m putting you in an awkward position but I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.” After finishing my speech I have to shift my eyes to my lap, his analyzing stare too much for me to take.

“You’re right, it is inappropriate.”

I nod my head too ashamed to look him in the eyes as my own welled with tears. I stand up to let myself out of his office.

“I’ll uh…I’ll be…goodnight sir.” He lets me walk out the door without protest. By now the team has gone home which kept me from more embarrassment. I gather my belongings and rush towards the elevator. When I finally make it to the elevator and the doors begin to close I let my tears quietly fall. But a hand pushes itself between the closing doors, forcing them open. I rush to wipe my tears and look up. When I do I’m face to face with the man who had caused my tears. As quickly as he had gotten into the elevator he pressed the button closing the doors and leaving us alone together.

“Y/N.”

I refused to turn and look at him.

“Y/N, please.”

“What? What more do you have to say. I get it. I’ll get over it I just need some time.”

“I-I have feelings for you too.”

I look up at him, “What?”

“I have feelings for you too, and when you told me I didn’t know what to do. I-Ive never been in a situation like this before.”

“You do?”

“You’re very intelligent. Always trying to help others and you give your all no matter the task. And although it is not the main reason I find you so intriguing, you are beautiful. I know that we will have to learn to navigate this situation, but if it’s something you would want, I would like to take you out to dinner.”

It takes me a moment to respond, but when I do it’s with a wide smile on my face “I would like that very much Hotch.”

“Please, not Hotch. I love hearing you say my name.”

“I would like that very much Aaron.”

He takes a small step closer and reaches out to my face, wiping away a few stray tears before he cups my face.

“Can I kiss you?”

I look into Aaron’s eyes before saying, “Yes.”

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)

—

“Pandora’s Melody” (Black Noir x Fem!Reader)

| It’s your first Christmas Benefit since working for Vought and you’re starting to chafe a little at all the rules. Least the music’s finally getting good tho.

| SFW, office rules, workplace discrimination(?), Vought International’s dress code policy & casual disregard of The Crown Act

| Pic Source: The Boys (s1)

| 800+ words

“Don’t fuck this up,” Ashley had said, sweaty handkerchief that was far too drenched to mop anything else up clenched tightly inside her fist, and a closed lip smile straining her spotty red painted lips.

And for your part you’d smiled back, nodded your head like a heavily - and repeatedly - hit bobble head; eager to keep your position and even more desperate not to be seen as the unfriendly black girl lest you lose your job.

To your credit it’s not until far later in the evening when everybody’s inhabitions are totally fucked, the camera crews and reporters are gone, and even most of The Seven have left to do things far less beneath them than attending a company mixer that you loosen the hold your heart’s keeping on Ashley’s words just…a bit.

Suddenly the music gets a little less mind numbingly fucking boring too and your mood gets a little less sullen, and even with your mandatory three inch heels shackled to your feet you finally begin to feel the music. So bobbing along, and finally downing the singular glass you’d been nursing the whole evening, you find yourself searching out whoever’s creating the new and far more engaging melody.

Your heart almost stops when you realize it’s Black Noir at the piano, gloved fingers flying over the keys, quite literally the only hero still bothering to attend this thing.

When a quick glance up shows that even Mr. Edgar’s no longer in attendance - though never unseeing you’re sure - you start talking mostly out of shock. You’ve never really been this close to any of the hero’s before now.

“Good - ah - good choice,” you murmur, “Hapless is really just such a downer for a Christmas Benefit.”

Muscles tense and breath short, fingers clasped together behind your back like a vice, you wait a beat for his reaction.

When all he does is kind of glance your way though you nearly breath out a sigh right in front of him before catching yourself, and you feel so free that for a second you want to take your hair down from its “more professional” slicked back bun so you can really feel the music through you.

Instead you untuck your dress shirt to quell the urge. Fuck, your pantssuit was starting to feel increasingly more suffocating the longer you worked here. At this point you felt like you’d end up buried in the damn thing then forced to partially exist as a pantsuit wearing ghost for the rest of your forever unrest for good measure—

—annnd think positive thoughts. The music is good, you want to sway. You settle for keeping up your subtle head bop and adding a few soundless taps against your thigh to the mix.

After he doesn’t slice you in half - or some other such gruesome death dealing action - you take another few moments to identify the song Noir himself has begun playing.

It’s lovely, and as much as you want to close your eyes to visualize the song’s name a bit better in your mind you opt not to so you can continue watching the way that Noir plays.

It’s more graceful than you’d expect (but considering the way you’d seen him train that was a little foolish of you). The silent hero’s fingers move across the keys like a true virtuoso, hands gliding from note to note with hardly a thought but still exactly right. In the entire time that it takes you to place the song he doesn’t miss a single beat and doesn’t lose his tempo; not a thing about how he plays looks or even sounds off.

Normally you’d be remiss to label anything perfect, but if there were ever an exception…

…Noir’s playing was perfect.

A small smile stretches your plush lips.

Delightfully so.

“The Minute Waltz,” you say after finally placing the song, only shuffling in place a little.

Which is how in the next minute you end up seated next to him after his head had snapped to you - and honestly you’d half figured he’d stopped minding you by that point so you’d been plenty surprised to find out otherwise.

Black Noir had stared you into submission with exactly one incline of his head to convey his invitation in any clear manner until, with held breath and a prayer, you’d sat down beside him where he’d made room on the piano bench.

Then it’s touch and go as - with your heart firmly in your throat and hoping to god you don’t screw anything up - Noir takes to eventually wanting you as more than just a captive audience. He plays a few simple chords, pauses, then looks over to you until after not too long you begin copying him.

By the end of the function your heart’s settled and you can slowly, but steadily, get through the entirety of Gymnopedie No.1 - with Noir pushing the pedal of course.

He even gives you a little silent round of applause once you’ve played through it on your own.

Like that, Noir at your side and surrounded by all the drunk limp dicks you work with tripping and throwing up over themselves, is the first time you feel like a real part of Vought.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!

Um, I just wrote this tonight at random and with a cold so if there’s mistakes no there isn’t. Also, it’s Christmas and I figured I had a themed fic in me tonight so here you go and Happy Holidays (I guess)!

Don’t question how the Reader-Insert knows the names of these songs, it doesn’t matter.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[crabsnpersimmons]

What if y/n from have you eaten? Au had eating disorders?

oou! good question!

yes! that is definitely a scenario i would like to explore in the fic when i get to it. also why i want to write the fic with multiple different Y/Ns so we can explore different experiences and relationships with food

there is a "main Y/N" who is a glutton who likes to try anything and everything. i haven't done the research for it so i can't say whether or not they have an eating disorder, but they DO have an unhealthy relationship with food as a result of being shamed for their appetite. so that, coupled with their job that emphasizes appearances and first impressions, they eat smaller meals, seemingly healthier meals, safe meals. but when they're alone at the restaurant with the DCA boys, without having to worry about who sees them or how much they eat, they're able to enjoy their food openly and honour their body's cravings.

[shinhoebakuhoekitten]

Shinso surprising you for International Women’s Day with some nice somnophilla.

It had been a kink that you had wanted to explore for a while but Shinso had felt a bit nervous about it because explicit consent from you every time you two had sex was very important to him with his quirk.

To your delight you stirred awake from Shinso pushing your panties aside and slowly warming you up and preparing you to take his hard cock.

Feigning sleep up until he sunk himself into your wet folds as you moaned from the sensation as his sinewy body pressed against your back. Shinso’s strong hands gripped your hips as he tilted your body in a way that took him better.

“Good morning kitten.” He said simply with a small smirk before he wrecked you in the best way possible.