#remote receptionist

[virtualreceptionistpro]

Effortless Efficiency: Elevate Your Business with a Remote Receptionist Solution

In today's hectic work environment, effective communication management is critical. But in the middle of the deluge of calls, solicitor calls can impede vital corporate operations and cause productivity issues. Do you, as a busy entrepreneur, also deal with this problem? Don't worry—we have the ideal answers right here for you! A game-changer for smoothly handling solicitor calls and maximising communication flow are remote receptionists. We'll go over the advantages of using these receptionists for solicitor call filtering in this extensive tutorial, along with some tips on how this solution can completely transform the way your company handles communications.

[rascheln]

"Welcome to the Midnight Orchid Hotel Mr. Hargrove. Make sure to return from your hike before sunset."

Billy leans over the counter, far enough to get into the receptionist's personal space and flashes his most charming smile. "Or what, pretty boy? You're gonna miss me?"

From up close he can read the name tag: Harrington. The man takes a drag from his cigarette and exhales smoke slowly in Billy's face. His eyes are hooded, long eyelashes fluttering against pale cheeks. And he almost succeeds in putting on a show of being completely unaffected if it weren't for that tense line of his shoulders.

"Please, don't flatter yourself. You're an honorable guest." Harrington's voice drips with sarcasm. And then, just for a moment, the mask slips. "But do be careful on this mountain. Don't follow any strange lights."

[emblazons]

….wdym my boss wants me to supervise his wife

[jakeperalta]

finally made a doctors appointment for the thing I've been thinking "I should probably talk to a doctor about this" for years. I am the bravest girl in the world I think

[inmarbleimmobility]

how am i supposed to get a fucking job when everything that doesn't require a specific degree or type of experience requires me to able to stand for 8 hours and squat and lift. a thing i physically cannot do. what the fuck kind of job am i supposed to DO.

[thecolorsfucked]

i have a phone interview next week and i applied to like at least 15-20 places this week so 🤞🏼

[vmedxeasy]

The Role of a Virtual Medical Assistant in Modern Healthcare

In the rapidly evolving world of healthcare, efficiency is key to providing excellent patient care. With the increasing demand for healthcare services, professionals are turning to digital solutions to manage administrative tasks without sacrificing the quality of care. A Virtual Medical Assistant (VMA) is one such innovation, offering support to healthcare providers in streamlining their workflows, reducing burnout, and improving overall operational efficiency. VMeDx is at the forefront of this shift, providing trained virtual assistants to enhance medical practice productivity.

What is a Virtual Medical Assistant?

A Virtual Medical Assistant is a remote professional who assists healthcare providers with a range of non-clinical tasks. From managing patient records to appointment scheduling, VMAs play a vital role in ensuring that healthcare providers can focus on what matters most—patient care. These assistants are trained in medical terminology and processes, making them ideal for handling the unique demands of a medical practice.

How Can a Virtual Medical Assistant Improve Your Practice?

VMAs offer numerous benefits to healthcare providers, whether they are part of a small clinic or a large hospital system. Here are some of the ways VMAs can transform medical practice:

1. Time Management and Efficiency

Healthcare providers often face time constraints due to the overwhelming volume of administrative tasks. Virtual Medical Assistants manage tasks such as patient data entry, appointment scheduling, and even billing, allowing doctors and nurses to spend more time focusing on their patients. This improved time management leads to better care quality and more satisfied patients.

2. Enhanced Patient Communication

Patient communication is a crucial aspect of healthcare. VMAs can manage inbound calls, respond to inquiries, and send follow-up messages, ensuring timely and effective communication. This not only keeps patients informed but also helps prevent missed appointments, improving patient outcomes.

3. Cost-Effective Solutions

Hiring in-house staff for administrative duties can be costly, especially for smaller practices. VMAs offer a cost-effective solution by working remotely, eliminating the need for physical office space, benefits, and other related expenses. Additionally, virtual assistants can work flexible hours, allowing practices to provide around-the-clock administrative support.

4. Data Management and Record-Keeping

Medical records and patient data are critical for any healthcare provider. A Virtual Medical Assistant can efficiently manage electronic health records (EHR), ensuring that patient information is up-to-date and easily accessible. This level of organization not only improves patient care but also helps practices maintain compliance with regulations.

The Future of Healthcare with Virtual Medical Assistants

As healthcare continues to embrace digital transformation, the role of VMAs is likely to expand. From handling more complex administrative tasks to assisting with telemedicine, VMAs will become an integral part of the healthcare ecosystem. By freeing up time and resources, healthcare providers can focus on improving patient outcomes, while VMAs handle the operational aspects of the practice.

Conclusion

In a time when efficiency and patient-centered care are more important than ever, a Virtual Medical Assistant can revolutionize the way healthcare providers manage their practices. From reducing administrative burdens to improving patient communication, VMAs offer countless benefits. If you’re looking to streamline your healthcare operations and enhance your focus on patient care, consider leveraging the expert services of VMeDx.

[ithebookhoarder]

Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)

Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...

Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable

Masterlist

“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk. 

“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything. 

Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her. 

It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend. 

The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk. 

Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about. 

“Are you talking about Reid?”

“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”

Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”

“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”

“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”

Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?” 

“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”

“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”

“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”

By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through. 

Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”

“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”

“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”

Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went. 

There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either. 

Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined. 

The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket. 

You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’.  Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift. 

Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you. 

“Hey, Spence-“

“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”

You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell. 

“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-” 

“Then what are you doing here?” 

“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”

Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste. 

He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.  

It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear. 

“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”

“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”

“Well, still-“

“Hey, pretty boy!” 

Spencer froze. 

“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”

Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?” 

“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”

“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?” 

“Yes.”

“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”

“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”

“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.” 

The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work. 

“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.” 

“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?” 

“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.” 

He chuckled. “Will do.” 

With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too. 

If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case. 

As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...

[slippery-minghus]

amazing how much easier it is to not procrastinate on my work when i'm the only one at my part of the office for the day. knowing i can go my own pace and not be watched/judged for taking breaks suddenly gives me the energy and clarity to get it all done right away!

[cloudcommunicationsolutions]

Why Do You Need a Virtual Receptionist?

Are you a growing business owner?

or

are you a entrepreneur?

what is the best source your customers prefer to contact you?

Your answer will be definitely a Phone Call. 99% customers prefer to call rather than sending an email to inquire or to resolve their issues. As your business grow, the number of daily enquiries (or number of incoming calls )will also double-up. This the stage where you will need a Virtual Receptionist to let you

Focus on your work

Increase productivity

Give 99% uptime

Timely handle customer queries

All these activities not only increase the productivity of your business but also can help you to make a scalable reliable business owner. So, get a good Virtual Receptionist or Cloud-based Office Assistant for your business to generate more sales.

[fairy-writes]

can I request for Soshiro and Gen fanfic (separate) on the female reader who's a healer that is clearly active on the battlefield and when the kaiju noticed this they started to target her to prevent healing her allies?

Also, can I add about the reader's attitude? Her persona has a cold/quiet and stoic personality o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader

Hoshina Soshiro x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Defense Force!Reader, Doctor!Reader

Notes: I am doing my new HC style because there are multiple characters requested :)

This entails a few HCs and then a small blurb!

Also, Reader’s personality ended up a bit more self-deprecating than expected in Hoshina’s…

I ALSO REFUSE TO PUT GIFS OF NARUMI. I WILL BURN HIS ANIME DESIGN WITH FIRE

__________________________________________________________________________

Narumi Gen

At first, you didn’t notice. 

You were too busy applying a tourniquet to the leg of a fallen Defense Officer when the Yoju began to attack.

Luckily, the officer you were treating still had working arms and shot it down. 

But they only kept coming.

Soon, you were overwhelmed and had to retreat. 

You grab the straps of your fallen comrade and drag them under some rubble that’s standing precariously. 

It might fall on you, but it was better than nothing for the time being. 

You press your fingers to the communication earpiece nestled in your ear. 

“I need immediate evac in Sector Zulu now! The Yoju are mobilizing and targeting the medics!” You holler as another medic is swallowed whole by one of the bigger Yoju.

Was this the work of that one kaiju? Kaiju No. 9? 

You had no clue. But you couldn’t dwell on it right now. You had to survive. 

Gen is furious by the time he gets to the hospital. He pushes past nurses and doctors and patients until he makes it to the front desk and barks out your name to a startled receptionist. He was a sight for sore eyes, still in his combat uniform, covered in kaiju blood, and still hauling around his weapon. 

“She’s in the Intensive Care Unit. Hold on—Wait!” She calls as soon as he leaves, but he pays her no mind. 

He knew where you were now. He could find the specific room number when he got there. 

Only he didn’t need a room number because you met him in the hallways as soon as he pushed through the double doors.

“Gen?” You look confused, your right arm bandaged and in a sling, and a swath of bandages wrapped around your head. 

“What were you thinking?!” He snaps, and you scowl at that. 

“The Yoju attacked me. Not the other way around, dumbass.” You snap back, and he glares, but on the inside, he’s relieved. 

“Why are you up and moving anyway? You should be resting.” He says, taking your good arm and steering you to a stray gurney stored in the hallway. You shrug off his arm. 

“And leave my patients without care? No way. I’m fine.” You reply and try to get up, but all but fall over when he pushes you gently. 

“Clearly not.” He says and sets his bayonet to the side, propping it up against the wall and taking a seat next to you.

“What’s the diagnosis?” Gen asks eventually, and you wiggle the fingers in your cast. 

“Broken wrist in three places. A pretty nasty concussion. A couple of cracked ribs. Apparently, my heart stopped after our shelter collapsed.” You say coldly, matter-of-factly, as if it was a walk in the park and not the fact that you died. 

Gen remembered hearing in the com piece that your heart stopped. He remembered the officer you were attending to saying he was starting chest compressions after not finding a pulse. He remembered feeling his own heart had stopped when the officer claimed chest compressions weren’t working. 

Luckily, you were wearing one of your newly designed suits—the kind with remote-activated defibrillators in the chest area. It had to be activated three times before you began breathing again and your heart started again. 

But you were okay.

You were okay. You were alive. And that’s all Gen could ask for

Hoshina Soshiro

“WE NEED EVAC IMMEDIATELY! REPEAT WE NEED EVAC IMMEDIATELY! WE HAVE WOUNDED AND THE YOJU ARE TARGETING THE MEDICS!” You bellow into the receiver as you dodge under a swipe of the Yoju before you.

You stand and sprint, trying to lure the Yoju away from your wounded comrades. 

Better you die than them.

Your com crackles in your ear, and you hear your lover's voice calling your name in a calm panic. 

“Where are you?” Hoshina Soshiro demands as you heave and pant. Your suit is dangerously close to overheating, with you using the suit’s strength to help your fellow officers. 

“Sector Juliette heading northbound on 12th Street.” You wheeze and shriek as a blow crashes into your back, sending you flying into some shattered concrete. 

Your shoulder is dislocated. Your ribs are broken. It feels like your nose might be as well. 

“Hold out a little longer, my love. I’m almost there!” He pleads, and you turn on your back to see the Yoju looming over you. 

“I’m sorry, Soshiro…” You murmur. 

Oh well…

Better you die than them.

Just as you close your eyes, you hear the draw of a katana from its sheath. 

When you wake up, you feel someone’s hand holding your own. 

You turn—with some difficulty with the brace around your neck—to see Soshiro holding your hand in one hand, typing out a report on his phone with the other. 

“Soshi?” You rasp, and he looks up, an unreadable look on his face. 

“You’re awake.” He says, and you nod, wincing at the ache in your neck. He leans forward, still not letting go of your hand. “Careful, you got some nasty whiplash.” He says, and you wheeze out a laugh.

“I’m not surprised. I took a bad hit.” You say, and he scoffs. 

“I saw.” He replies and goes back to his report. 

It doesn’t take long after that for you to speak. 

“You’re mad at me.” Soshiro shakes his head at that, thumb pausing from where he was typing on the screen. Likely updating Captain Ashiro on your condition.

“I’m not mad. Just upset. You gave up.” He says, and you sigh, leaning back against your pillows. Luckily, your bed is propped up, so you don’t have to adjust it. 

“I have a duty to protect my comrades.” Soshiro grits his teeth. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to die to protect them. You’re a talented doctor; don’t waste that life of yours.” He pleads, opening his eyes to look at you desperately. 

The doctor comes in then, checks you over, and gives you your diagnosis. Whiplash—hence the neck brace—three broken ribs, a dislocated left arm, and a torn rotator cuff. 

“Do you have help at home? Given your skills, I assume you know how to take care of yourself, but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands.” The doctor says. You are about to shake your head when your lover pipes up.

“I’ll be helping.” He says firmly, leaving no room for you to argue. The doctor accepts this readily and nods, leaving the room with promises to return with discharge paperwork. 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You say as soon as the door shuts, and Soshiro raises an eyebrow. 

“I’ll take care of you.” He repeats, and you hiss out a laugh.

“It’s rotten work.” At that, his grip tightens. 

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Sealed

The plan was simple, if time consuming. Rent some apartments out, and wait. Of course, there were some preparation required. First, buy an old apartment building, something not too expensive and not too flashy. Make some small changes to the central air system and temperature control. Bring the whole thing up to code and install a beautiful, in building gym. Hire a team of savvy young women to help manage the apartments. Then, carefully and selectively rent out the one bed, one bath apartments to single, young men who showed promise. Some were just graduated 20-somethings, with a bright future ahead in STEM careers. Some were trust fund kids moving to the city for the first time, drawn to the quickly gentrifying downtown. Some were just personal pet projects that I wanted to see grow into their potential. Like this fellow:

I wanted to see what would happen on a bit more of a bear-ish body type. We set him up in Unit 514. Or this bro:

He was already pretty close to what we wanted our final results to look like. But I wanted to see how much we could push him. Unit 112, low and close to the gym. Good eye candy for some of the twinks we set up on the sixth floor. After about 3 months, every unit in the building had been filled, all eight floors. It was the first of June, around 4 a.m. when we had verified all residents were home. The overnight receptionist was sent home early for the day as upstairs, all door locks were remotely engaged, power was cut, and the new air conditioners kicked in. All subjects were sealed in their experiment chambers.

Slowly but surely, a thick fog billowed from each bedroom’s vents. It was a thick, sticky vapor, smelling like sandalwood and cool like peppermint. Subjects’ rooms were soon filled as they began breathing it in deeply. Some began to toss in their sleep, subconsciously fighting the mist, while others just huffed away and began the absorption process. One fellow on the second floor managed to toss himself awake, but was quickly sedated by an extra pump of vaporized melatonin added to his room.

As the men all settled down and opened up, the mist began absorbing into their bodies through any gap available: mouth, nose, pores, cocks, and asses. Within thirty minutes, the last of the gas has been administered, and all subjects were once more peacefully at rest. Bodies began twitching and pulsing as faint moans emitted from some of the smaller men’s mouths. The experiment had began.

The first to wake up in the morning was a subject in apartment 211. His transformation was among the more subtle. The lanky guy had put on a few pounds of muscle as his beard thickened and some hair grew in. He immediately began to sense something was off, as he felt his body and now bushy beard. He tried to check his phone. Dead. He gets up and tries to walk out into the apartment. Locked. A look of confusion sets in as he sits and tries to think of what to try next. That is when it catches him. With the power out and the sun rising, temperatures were rising. And as he began to sweat, he began to smell:

The gasses that seeped in last night were slowly beginning to seep back out, causing more radical changes. But this second exposure is different. It is coming from inside him, and carries his unique pheromones with it. This gas is heroin to him, designed to addict his body to its presence and slowly bring out the best in him. And as the smell fills his nostrils for a second time, he is fighting the urge to give in. Give into himself and what he is becoming. He knows that the smell is rancid, musky and earthy with notes of spice that burn his nostrils. But it is a lost cause. As he huffs away at his own funk, he glides his free hand down his chest, feeling thick, matted hair and slick abs. He takes a moment to feel his muscles twitching and stretching as his skin becomes sensitive to the touch. He wraps his sweaty, calloused hand around his cock, and begins to pump.

Once he begins to pleasure himself, there is very minimal risk of a reversal. The changes are rapid and extensive his body grows to match the smell that now saturates the air around him. Muscles swell, bones crack and reshape, feet stretch, and his eyes roll in the back of his head as he starts to drool. The fog settling into his brain leaves no room for inhibitions as he starts to self worships his pit, devouring his own sweat. Our scanners also begin to detect deterioration in brain activity. The pleasure center is growing, eating into non-essential regions like memory and comprehension. No part of the original subject is left unchanged as he continues to evolve into a sweaty, smelly, hairy beast of a man. And as he reaches climax, he lets out a deep roar as all inhibitions about his new form are shot out the swollen mushroom tip of his cock. He rolls his foreskin back up and shoves his filthy cock into a pair of sweatpants.

He stares at his body, flexing and feeling up his muscles. Experiment 211 has been a success, able to turn a scrawny nerd into a horny, sweaty, smelly gym bro with an insatiable need to fuck. Now we just need to test how powerful his sperm and scent are. He hears a click as his chamber is unlocked. We pulse the lights in the room with a code his mind will understand. He now knows his mission is to go over to Apartment 212 and begin round two of testing…

It is a bit later in the morning now and subjects all around are beginning to wake up and face their new reality. Through our camera network we watch as their transformations are slowly taking place, as muscle, fat, and fur are packed on and a cloud of musk begins to cloud the room.

And slowly as men finish their first rounds, their chambers are unsealed. They begin to wander and find their neighbors, mixing musks to help each other grow and change even more.

The experiment will run sealed off from the general public, at least until new subjects are needed to collect additional data points. Interested parties are encouraged to apply now to our waitlist. Otherwise, we expect to host an open house next month, with all subjects free to leave the complex and continue experimenting as they see fit. I can already tell that our friend we started with in Unit 514 will be popular.

Thank you for your time today. We expect to see you again very soon.

[darsynia]

Forgiven (CEO Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Since dropping out of school to care for your sister, your daydream has been that a rich, handsome man will save you from drowning in debt. Until then (read: never), you’ll work hard at your new receptionist job and try not to ogle the impossibly hot construction guy working in the foyer…

Words/Warnings: 2,855 | none

As 5/7 of my Ro Roll birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, forGIVEn is a fluffy meet cute between CEO Steve and f!Freader. Gif is by @ashilesun.

Excerpt:

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.  

FORGIVEN

“Thank God for the internship last summer!” your sister says (again).

“I do, I do,” you promise, looking at yourself critically in the grubby bathroom mirror. She doesn’t have to know you pick a new deity to mentally ‘thank’ every time. Today it’s Thor, because you need to bring electricity to your first day on the job. 

You’re hoping to look professional but approachable for this customer-facing position, and it looks like the months of clothes thrifting before your internship last year are really paying off. Do you wish you could work in your field of choice? Sure, but working in the same company as a receptionist means you have both in-field and company knowledge. Once Jennie is back on her feet, you hope to be back on yours, too.

You step into the kitchen to check that everything is set up for your sister. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back at lunch?”

“No mother hen-ing, you promised! I’ll be fine, and you’ll need your own lunch!”

Your watch beeps that it’s time to start walking to work, so you slip into your sturdy dress shoes and give the room a final once-over. Jennie’s cooler of food is near the couch, she’s got all of the remotes, and her walker is within reach. You’ve even put a pair of crutches in the umbrella stand and lashed the damned thing to the couch so she can’t knock it over. Her charger is at hand, the blinds are down, and the end table has her morning coffee on a coaster.

“Get out or I’ll start throwing things at you and you’ll be late from having to clean them up!” your sister teases.

“I love when you nag,” you tell her, shutting the door before she can retort.

Star Industries is honestly your dream workplace, even after pausing your mechanical engineering degree to take care of Jennie. After Tony Stark and his company spun it off as a subsidiary, Star really came into its own. The company has an inspiring mission: to ensure safe, affordable prosthetics for the people who really need them. Many customers are war veterans, just like the two men in charge. The COO even has one himself.

You’d filled out your paperwork after hours, so when you walk into the building, it’s a nice surprise to see how the morning light floods the lobby. The atrium of the building is made up of a multi-storey open space lit by tall windows, with the company’s logo laid out in the tile floor right as you come in the doors. The A in the word ‘STAR’ is, of course, a star, but it’s the missing ‘K’ from its parent company that catches the eye. Instead of upright, the K is laid on its ‘back.’ One stick figure’s front leg and another stick figure’s back leg make up the angled lines from the K--and they’re both wearing prosthetics.

The name badge you’re given has a smaller version of the same logo, and you can’t help but hope this isn’t the only time you’ll be representing the company. You fix it to your lapel and sit nervously at the desk beside the woman who will train you. It’s an hour before you come up for air long enough to notice there’s some renovation work going on nearby. 

Honestly, ‘notice’ is embarrassingly underselling it.

The windows in the lobby are clearly designed to encourage shafts of sunlight that flood a particular area with a cheerful glow. You’ve managed to look over right when one such beam illuminates a man wearing rough work clothes, his head tipped back to drink out of a water bottle. He’s handsome as hell, with a face like Adonis and powerful muscles straining his sweat-damp t-shirt. The sunlight turns him into a golden statue, and you sure as hell would visit museums more often if the art looked like that!

Your phone rings and you answer promptly, tearing your eyes away from the construction worker just as he smiles at someone. The stammered greeting you offer to the caller could be chalked up to it being your first day, but that isn’t the reason at all.

Your first week on the job is equal parts satisfying and stressful. Satisfying because it turns out you’re a natural at taking zero shit with maximum politeness. Your stress comes from the renovations.

The work isn’t loud, and it’s not like you’re worried about safety or anything. Technically, your job isn’t affected at all… well, not because of your assigned work, that is. No, you’re the one affected, and it’s thanks to the man who seems to be in charge.

After that first day, the tarp that separated their construction from the rest of the lobby had been removed, meaning you could just look over and see him at any point throughout your day.

You’ve been rationing those glimpses for your own sanity.

Despite this, there are still details you’ve noted. One, he’s definitely the foreman. Everyone defers to the guy, but his leadership style seems to rely on trust and respect. Two, he has the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Paired with his looks, it’s a disastrous combination, especially given Reason Number Three: he’s an utter beast. More than once you’ve seen him moving things with ease that would take multiple other men to lift.

Today is Monday and the men were all at work before you arrive. Their project is taking shape; it appears to be a café with low counters, maybe a wheelchair-friendly gathering space? It would be on brand for the company, and certainly explains why you’ve been brought on as a second receptionist. The usual population in the lobby will certainly go up once it’s completed.

Before you sit down, you take stock of the wide welcome desk. Would anyone notice if you nudged one of the large flower pots to the left to mostly block your view of the café area? You decide to risk it. Foreman Eye Candy is a Distraction with a capital D, and you already love this job.

The morning goes smoothly--but by lunch you’re fairly certain you’ve memorized the pattern on the side of that damned pot, for as often as you’ve looked over at it.

When you come back from your break, the pot is back where it was before.

Your hands shake a little bit as you log back into your computer. Did a cleaning crew come through and adjust it? You’re not brave enough to ask the senior receptionist for fear she’ll question why it was moved in the first place. It’s probably a fluke, you decide.

Without your makeshift barrier, you find yourself looking over at the Foreman way too many times before you’re done for the day, but he’s smiled at least twice in your direction, so that’s something.

On Tuesday morning, you choose discretion as the better part of valor and scoot the pot over to obscure your view again, even taking the time to nudge its closest neighbor a little, to even up the spacing.

After lunch on Tuesday, both pots are moved back, and Eye Candy is smiling. You doubt the two are related.

On Wednesday you bring in one of those Newton’s Cradle desk toys with permission from your coworker at the desk. It’s altruistic, distracting the children when their parents show up to ask questions. Because your area is recessed a bit, you risk setting the item on a little paper sorter to make it level with the visitors’ side. Completely incidentally, that placement blocks some of your view of the café under construction.

You come back from lunch to find the shelf moved to the other side of your computer monitor.

It’s so disconcerting that you stand there staring at it in shock for a long moment, long enough to attract attention.

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.  

Chanting ‘it’s Wednesday, that’s called ‘hump day,’ there’s nothing that implies you’ve been thinking impure thoughts, pull it together!’ in your head, you answer something non-committal and continue with dinner.

That night you have a dream that Sir Eye Candy walks over and smiles at you, illuminated by one of those rays of light straight from heaven.

On Thursday you arrive at work to find the pots have all been moved farther back along the decorative part of the receptionist’s desk, much too far to move any of them without notice.

As if he’d been waiting for you to see the change, you make brief eye contact with Sir Eye Candy. He does a little nod of acknowledgment before turning to move the large sign for the café. By himself.

“Am I awake?” you whisper to yourself, unable to look away from how effortlessly he moves under heavy strain.

“Keep staring at the boss like that and the rest of his crew will never let you hear the end of it!” your front desk coworker Marcia jokes.

Your cognitive function flatlines as you try to process the word ‘boss’ while at the same time watching the man in question wipe sweat off of his brow. “It’s obvious he’s the foreman,” you mumble, dropping your phone so you have to look away to pick it up. If the screen cracks, you deserve it.

“Oh, honey, this is his side gig. Pet project. Maybe even a vacation, knowing Rogers,” Marcia chuckles.

The name ‘Rogers’ finally gets through to you, in context to ‘the boss.’ Steve Rogers.

Sir Eye Candy is CEO Eye Candy.

“Wait…”

“There it is!” Your coworker gives you the kind of look only busybody aunts and elder coworkers can pull off. “Word is his gym is closed for a few weeks, so he pulled some strings to move this project up. Nice way to start a new job, yeah?”

You’ve been ogling the CEO. “Should I put in my two weeks’ notice?” you whisper. Dismay doesn’t even cover it. You’re practically mortifie--

“I’d advise your manager not to accept,” a nearby voice says. “If anything, I probably ought to call myself into an HR meeting. I’ve been quite distracted this past week.”

It’s CEO Eye Can-- Rogers. All you can do is mutely look up at him, watching the amused look on his face turn into a stern one.

“Have you been messing with my plant display?”

It’s not at all what you were expecting him to say, and you’re still befuddled by the idea he was distracted by you, so you stammer out an admission that yes, you did move his pots.

The phone rings, and after a subtle gesture from Rogers, Marcia takes the call.

“Sir,” you begin, noting the way his posture straightens on hearing the title. You lick your lips in nervousness, and god, his eyes go straight there. HR would be having kittens.

“Go on?” Rogers’ voice is resonant. Everything about this feels like a rom-com, and you are totally worried you’ll screw it up.

“Forgive me for staring?” you offer. You’d meant to say something less obvious, but it’s too late now.

“Yes, well. I’d like to go over your conduct at a lunch meeting, if, that is, you--” he breaks off, lifts his chin, and clears his throat. “In a half hour.”

“I-- Of course--” You’ve answered too late, he’s already walking away and calling out to the crew. Stunned, you look over at Marcia. She’s grinning, but doesn’t look up, and you decide to take your cues from her.

Fifteen minutes later, the work crew wraps up. You see them file out in your peripheral vision, but if Rogers is going to play the Principal’s Office card, you’re going to play at being an obedient student.

This sends your mind on a complete irresponsible rampage, and you’re still tamping down the mental images when a gentleman in a suit walks up to the front of the desk.

Your welcoming smile is already in place when you lift your head to greet him, but it widens into surprised happiness to see that it’s Rogers. At the very last minute you stop yourself from acting like he’s picking you up for a date, even though you very much hope that’s what this is, HR be damned. Every fairytale has a villain, after all, and villains are made to be thwarted.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The word choice is deliberate.

“You can. Marcia, do you usually cover for lunch?”

“I do.”

“Good. We’ll be prompt,” he says firmly, tapping the flat of his palm on the desk with finality. You take the cue, getting up and slinging your purse over your shoulder, but inwardly your stomach is a riot of sawdust. 

Are you reading this wrong? All of your teenage aspirations to be swept off of your feet by a rich, handsome man feel like lead weights at the bottom of your shoes. Steve Rogers’ reputation is sterling, and despite your less-than-angelic daydreams, you don’t want to come across like a gold-digger. Even if you are strapped for cash.

Rogers opens the door for you. The front door. The front door of his business. It’s heady and confusing, even more confusing when a slick silver car pulls up and a valet hands him the keys.

“You look like you either need sunglasses or smelling salts,” he says gently.

“A neck brace,” you quip. “For the whiplash.”

His smile is sheepish as he opens the car door for you. “That’s fair.”

The car is cinematically nice inside, and you suppress the desperate desire to pinch yourself until you wake up as he gets in and adjusts the seat for his height. He doesn’t look over at you, which your adrenaline-drunk mind can’t decide is good or bad.

Then he does, and all you can do is smile back at him.

“A confession: I cribbed some of those lines.” Rogers eases the car out into traffic and lets out a long breath. “From Bu-- a friend of mine. Advice on how to be in charge and ask out a subordinate at the same time.” He stops at a red light and shoots a look over at you. “How’d I do?”

You kind of want that neck brace, but despite the trappings, you’re really enjoying who this man is turning out to be. “That depends. Do you want me to be turned upside down and sideways?”

That earns you a look akin to the one he sent you when you’d called him ‘sir.’ You shiver, and he notices. “I don’t think you want to know what his advice might be on the answer to that question! How about ‘maybe?’”

“Maybe is good,” you manage.

“Glad to hear it. What would you like? Italian? Deli?” Rogers looks over and catches his breath like he’d forgotten his wallet. “An invite to lunch without your employment on the line? I’m sorry about that. I got--” He looks back at the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. “--carried away.”

His candid mix of charm and command are sweeping you completely off your feet, tarnished halo and all. “I don’t think I have time to phone a friend for a better answer, but is ‘maybe’ still good?”

Your sister would walk her ass to the car to smack you if she knew you’d just told the CEO of your new company you’re a ‘maybe’ for a one-on-one ‘maybe’ date with him. You suspect his friend would be facepalming, too.

“Your job isn’t on the line, I promise. I’d never misuse power like that--” He breaks off from his serious tone, looks down at his suit and the fancy car you’re both sitting in, and chuckles. “All evidence to the contrary.”

The whole situation is absurd, unrealistic, completely romantic, and everything you’ve always wanted.

You’re going to wake up any minute now.

Rogers looks over and raises his eyebrows. You realize with embarrassment that he wants you to either tell him where he can stuff his lunch invitation, or where the two of you can go eat.

“I got carried away too,” you rush to say. “Yes to lunch. No maybes in sight.”

“You’re forgiven,” he smiles.

to be continued...

[luvrxbunny]

fifteen minutes

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader 

Prompt: Free Use (?)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, kinda rough sex, piv, unprotected sex, minimal talking and kissing, no aftercare (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.3k

A/N: the end feels kinda sad cus no aftercare but- 

You’re waiting for Eddie in his changing room. It’s a little bigger than an office, but not big enough to be a bedroom. There’s a couch in it and a little vanity desk for his makeup and hair. You’re on the couch, trying to ignore the springs in it as you read a magazine you swiped from the receptionist's desk. You have headphones in, listening to Eddie’s newest EP, the same one he’s here to perform. You’ve tried to listen to his set live but being backstage means it’s a bit louder than you can handle so you play his music as loud as you can handle in your ears. 

You’re reading the newest edition of Vogue, your eyes popping out of your head at how fancy some of these outfits look. You’re snacking on some grapes Eddie packed for you as you bob your head to his guitar solo in your ears. You turn the page again and smile at a lady in a pink dress, and a man in an all-black suit standing next to her, his hand on her hip lightly. It reminds you of Eddie. You imagine him in that suit, his hair resting on his shoulder- or even better, in a man-bun atop his head. 

The metal in your ears dies down slowly with a fading guitar riff and adrenaline shoots through you. If the EP has ended that means that Eddie should have around 15 minutes between sets before performing one of his older albums. He always spends that time with you, even if half of it is him panting harshly from all his stage antics and chugging water to soothe his over-used vocal cords. You don’t mind though, a smile is already on your face at the thought of seeing him- and someone is grabbing you. 

Your skirt is flipped up and thick hands grip your naked ass, groping your cheeks roughly. Your hands rip your headphones from your ears and you’re about to scream when they rest their body on you, pushing the air from your lungs. “It’s me, baby. It’s me. I need you.” 

Eddie’s voice is hot against your ear, fanning over your cheek and you can feel the heat radiating off of his skin. He’s still wearing his jeans but he’s pulled you apart so he’s grinding his clothed crotch over your naked pussy. You don’t usually wear panties to his concerts because afterward, during the afterparty, Eddie tends to whisk you away to a remote location to have his way with you, sometimes he just does whatever he wants in the middle of whatever room you guys are in. You just wanted to make it easier for him. 

This is new though, you guys had discussed it after Eddie saw it on some rock blog he reads from time to time. You were open, you told him that your heart belongs to him so you don’t see any reason why your body shouldn’t as well. He spent the rest of the night fucking you about it but after that, he didn’t bring it up again. You’d almost forgotten about it, but now you can see it’s been on his mind. He’s moaning into your ear, humping his jean-clad cock into your sensitive hole, abusing it with the rough texture. “Eddie.” He moans at the way you say his name and pulls back. 

“Yeah, baby, s’me. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you through the whole set.” You can hear him unzipping his pants behind you and his telltale moan when he finally wraps his hand around his throbbing dick. He jerks himself off to the view of you, spread out on his couch, your little white skirt framing your perfect ass. He can see your lips glistening for him, your pussy crying for his cock, making a mess all over herself. He groans at the sight and digs in, not bothering to prep you one bit. 

You almost scream his name out but he presses his hand to your mouth, his rings digging into your lips painfully but your mind can only focus on the pleasure and the heat of the stretch his cock is causing inside you. Your hands reach behind your head blindly as Eddie rests his body against yours. You’re moaning against his hand raggedly, they rip from the base of your throat and vibrate against Eddie’s other hand that found its home wrapped gently around your neck. Your hands finally find his head and you pull him forward, forcing his head into the crook of your neck and turning your head to his, your eyes pleading and darting to his lips when he looks at you. 

You’re whining behind his hand, wanting desperately to connect your lips to his. He already looks wrecked as he holds your eye contact, he’s groaning and whimpering at you, his eyebrows drawn in and his eyes unfocused as they wander your face. He has no thoughts in his head as he ruts into you, he can’t even take the time to decipher what you’re begging him for. He can feel his orgasm growing in his stomach, brewing like a storm and you’re just feeding it more. You’re whimpering his name behind his hand and his eyes are crossing, doubling his view of you. 

The sight has you moaning loudly into his hand, vibrating his palm as feels the coil in your stomach pull tighter. You moan more desperately, needing to kiss him before cumming and he finally pulls his hand away to force your head into his lips. You’re barely kissing him back, mostly moaning his name and licking into his mouth, trying to swallow everything he can give you, anything that tastes like him. 

He pulls away to moan into your mouth, your jaw slack with the assault of pleasure, with the orgasm that’s burning like a warning in your gut, promising to ruin you once it’s released. Eddie feels the same way, he’s trying to last for you but he knows he’s running out of time and you’re pulsing madly around him. His hips stutter into you as his orgasm begins to overflow, his balls are tightening and shooting pleasure through him every time they smack into you. Your pussy is teasing him at this point, clenching rhythmically like you’re trying to milk him, like you want him to cum in you. 

So he does. His cock explodes inside you and it’s like nothing he’s felt before. It’s not more or less enjoyable, it’s always incredible when he’s with you- but it’s more aggressive. It slams into him, knocking all the air out of his lungs and he could swear that he blacked out, just floating through an abyss of pleasure. You’re whining into his ear and he can feel you trying to cum around him, you’re clenching purposely now, grinding back into his stuttering hips. He knows, he knows you can’t cum without him touching your clit but he doesn’t have enough brain power to even help you… and he doesn’t have to. 

You let out a sob-like whine as Eddie’s hips calm down and he pulls back, already struggling to get his pants back over his legs. “Eddie, I didn’t-” He cuts you off by completely falling off the couch, hitting the floor with a dull thud. He sits back up, level with your face and kisses you with a small smile. “I know.” He stands up, jumping a bit to get his jeans up quicker. “I know, baby, I’m sorry. I’ll help you when I get back I swear.” He blows you a kiss as he rushes out of the room, hearing people calling for him outside the hall. You’re left in silence in his room, panting and desperate as you hear the crowd scream, letting you know he’s already back on stage.  

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[cindyss]

— you’ll never be done with me -m.riddle

-pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

- word count: 1.8k

- note: i kind of really hate this 🥲

You walked through the door to possibly one of the worst nights you would ever experience. You and mattheo were fake dating, even though he was insufferable, but he wanted to get back at his cheating ex, and you wanted get to know people more since he was quite popular, you weren’t.

Your class arranged an overnight trip to a lake, and since no one knew you were fake dating, you were stuck with him in a motel room all alone. And to add to your luck, you were welcomed by one double bed.

After a long trip to make it here, you were exhausted and all you wanted was to sleep. “Great, we have to share a fucking bed now” you protested. “Yeah, thats great” mattheo smirked playfully from next to you.

You rolled your eyes and put your suitcase on the floor, opening it and picking out your pajamas for the night. “Im going to shower so you can get dressed here” mattheo announced picking up his own clothes and heading to the bathroom.

By the time you got changed and did your skincare, you were almost sweating because of how hot it was. You were able to locate the AC remote and tried to turn it on but it just wouldn’t work.

Ringing the reception, you spoke “i’m sorry, but our AC isn’t working” “i am so sorry ma’am but we don’t have anyone we can send to you at this late hour, but i promise we’ll have it fixed first thing in the morning tomorrow. I just need your room number and what section you’re in”.

You gave the receptionist the information she needed and as you laid down on the bed, mattheo got out of the bathroom, all the steam from his shower following him.

“God, fuck!” you said as the room grew hotter. “So when do you plan on turning the AC on?” he asked. You turned to look at him, he only had his towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist, his abs were out and his v line was showing.

He snapped you out of your thought, “stop staring and answer me” he said. “I’m not staring! The AC isn’t working and they said they can’t send someone to fix it, we’ll have to wait till tomorrow”.

He smacked his lips together, nodding. “okay then” he went back into the bathroom, got changed and got out again. By that time, you were almost falling asleep when you felt him slump next to you.

You opened your eyes wide “what do you think you’re doing? You’re not going to sleep next to me, shirtless too!” “too bad its too hot in here, i don’t mind you removing your top too you know” he smirked smugly.

You rolled your eyes at him, shoving a pillow to act as a barrier between the both of you. “Are you fucking kidding me, this barely fits us both, you’re adding a barrier too?” “yes, mattheo, a barrier too”. “god, at least ask for my approval first-“ you cut him off sighing loudly.

“mattheo will you shut up oh my god, its so hot in here, my clothes are sticking to me and annoying me and you’re-“ “then take them off” mattheo said smirking. “piss of riddle” you said turning around so that your back was facing him.

after a few minutes of silence, the boy spoke once again “are you asleep yet?”

“no i’m trying to die”

“why?”

you flipped so that you were now laying on your back “because you’re next to me”

"What? You prefer it more if you are under me?" In one movement he was hovering over me. "As you wish."

“Mattheo, what the fuck” you gasped as your breath caught in your throat.

“are you mad at me?”

“i’m always mad at you”

“no you’re not grumpy mad today you’re mad mad, what did i do wrong?”

“who was that girl, that you carried the bag for?”

“she was no one”

“riddle, who was she I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too, she was a no one”

“I'm done playing games with you. One day you tell me you want to fake date to make your ex get back with you, and the next day you’re helping some girl with her luggage while there are plenty of more boys who were present”

“I didn’t see you as the jealous type, no complaints though, its looks good on you” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Mattheo take things seriously for once in your life!” you exclaimed angrily. His expression then changed, from cocky and arrogant to serious and somewhat angry.

“Is that what you think we’re doing? Playing games?”

“Then what is it? Am i just a toy to you? A girl you can call your girlfriend and then you go and flirt with all the other girls around? Do you even care about your ex or is this just some dumb fucking act so you could have a girlfriend you can cheat on whenever you want because you’re bored?”

“You think you’re a toy to me?”

“well it sure seems like it”

“fuck you’re so clueless”

“try to talk to me for once in your life properly instead of all these riddles you make me feel like i’ve fucking lost it”

“you’ve already made me lose it! Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? How it feels to sit near you, to hear you voice every day?”

“see, you speak nonsense! I’m done with you!”

“You’ll never be done with me” he announced, grabbing you by your throat, swallowing your next breath in his mouth.

As your lips connected in a heated kiss, your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling his face closer.

he slips his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch he could reach. after you break the kiss, breathless yet wanting more, mattheo’s lips travel to your neck kissing your sensitive skin, down to your collarbone.

your hands wrap around his strong, muscular arms as he nibbles and bites on your skin.

“Y/n tell me to stop please.”

“I don't want you to stop Mattheo.”

“Then lie. Lie to me please. If I keep kissing you right now then I'm going to kiss you tomorrow & the next day & the next day-”

“I. Said. Don't. Stop.”

With your approval, mattheo wrapped his fingers around your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the floor. your bare chest was now exposed to him since you weren’t wearing a bra.

“You wanted this didn’t you princess?” he smirked.

“Well, me sleeping with no bra on is like you sleeping with no shirt on.”

“oh so you didn’t want this”

“well maybe i wanted it a little bit” you giggled as he dived in between your breasts, leaving kisses between them.

he took one of your nipples in his mouth, as your fingers found home in his chocolate hair. he teased your other nipple with his fingers, making your back arch, as your body pressed against his.

he used his free hand to push you down gently before he moved to your other nipple, pleasuring it similarly as you whimpered under his touch. “mattheo- you tease”.

his smugness showed when he smirked as he once again connected you lips, pulling your pants and panties down in one go.

wasting no time, he lowered his own pants and boxers, throwing them to the floor to lay beside your other clothes.

then, adjusting himself on top of you, he slowly lowered his organ into you, causing you to moan at his large size. he took your mouth in a kiss to stop your moans from escaping as he continued to bury himself deep into you.

once you were able to adjust to his size, he began thrusting in and out of you, earning gasps and whimpers from you as you arched your back, your stomach pressing against his.

“god, mattheo!!” he smirked, leaving love bites all over your neck and collarbone. “deeper, riddle, i want to feel you deeper.”

he pulled out of you, turned you around and spread on your legs further open. He placed a pillow under your stomach, “I’m going to fuck you until your arms can’t hold you anymore and the only thing supporting you is this stupid fucking barrier pillow that’ll hold your butt high for me.”

he then once again pushed inside you, as you bit into the bed sheets, your moans muffled. Your fingers gripping onto the sheets, hanging for dear life, Mattheo continued thrusting inside of you, his hand gliding under your stomach, pressing you against him.

You eventually came screaming his name into the pillow as your elbows gave up, your face crashing into the bed sheet in front of you.

“We’re not done yet princess.” He spoke, he used the hand that was under you to lift you up slightly, then, with one swift move, two of his fingers were inside you.

He began ruthlessly pumping them inside you, as your toes curled, he then added a third fingers as your elbows wobbled, struggling to stay still as move muffled moans and whimpers escaped your lips.

“Come on baby I know you have another one in you” he said, admiring you from behind, “you’re being too loud y/n” “f..fuck you riddle” you struggled to speak.

He then used the hand that was supporting your stomach to your jaw, forcing your head to tilt. He moved his cock toward your lips saying “open up” and to his command, you responded by opening your mouth wide.

He pushed his length inside your mouth, as you took almost all of it in the first go, you then began sucking, twirling and twisting your tongue around his dick.

Tasting your remaining cum on him, your eyes shut tight, tears fighting to slip from your eyes. “Oh fuck, youre so good at this.”

The boy spoke, watching his fingers pumping inside of you as you sucked his cock. “You look so perfect like this, finally putting that annoying mouth of yours to good fucking use.”

You hum in response, to involved in the satisfaction to bark back, then finally you feel yourself close, clenching around Mattheo’s fingers as you come once again.

“i knew it, but you could’ve at least warned me, oh shit” he’s interrupted when he feels himself close. As he keeps fucking your mouth, his tip suddenly hits the back of your throat making you gag.

That sends him over the edge as he spills his cum inside your mouth, carefully watching you swallow. Then, the both of you lay naked next to each other on the bed,

“I never hated you, you know” he confessed.

“Too bad, I did” you giggled.

“Fuck you” he said, clearly uninterested in your response.

“Round 2?”

“Bet”.

[withwritersblock]

You Were Mine

~You Were Mine by Forest Blakk~

Author's Note: N/A Summary: Luke and Y/N break up but they haven't let go of the relationship yet Warnings: none? Word Count: 1,722

It was late, he wasn’t sure exactly what time it was. He returned late from a roadtrip on the west coast, where they had a mix bag of games. He sat at the empty red light waiting for it to change. He ran his hand across his nose as he stared towards the tiny rain droplets starting to fall onto his wind shield.

The light switched to green as he sped forward towards the apartment building parking garage. He sped inside parking in the guest parking area. The parking spot that felt like his own with how often he was here.

Pulling his key from the ignition he quickly climbed out of the car. He took in a shaky breath as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He walked into the lobby of the apartment building meeting the gaze of the nighttime receptionist. 

“Y/N said you two broke up,” Edith said, she was a eighty year old woman who loved being up at night. The perfect job for her. Y/N often had nights where she couldn’t sleep and would keep Edith company.

Luke dryly chuckled, “We did, good night Edith,” he mumbled as he turned the corner to take the stairs. He was scared of the elevator after being stuck inside of it twice. He climbed up the steps in a rapid pace as he reached the fourth floor swiftly. He walked down the hall towards her apartment, he raised his fist up and knocked three times. 

He thought about the doorbell, but he knew she would be awake. The habits of their relationship was still something they were trying to break. She would always stay up and wait for Luke to text her that he made it back safely from his flight. He would either text or show up at her door. Which he always preferred the latter. 

He heard the twisting of the lock and her pulling the door open. She tilted her head against the door as she smiled softly towards him. 

“Luke, what are you doing here?” she asked as she squinted her eyes slightly.

“Haven’t slept good since we broke up and you know I don’t sleep on roadies. Can I come in?” he expressed softly. 

She pulled the door wider as she stepped to the side, letting him inside. He walked past her, taking in the familiar smell of vanilla and rose candles. She would have a candle in every room in her apartment. It would be the same brand and scent.

She shut the door behind him, locking it in the process. “I was just about to put on movie in my room, come on,” she offered as she started walking towards her room. He followed after her quickly as he ran a sleepy hand over his eyes. She shoved open her bedroom door and quickly dropped down onto the mattress, climbing under the comforter. Luke stood at the doorway, admiring her. 

“Luke,” she uttered as she shyly glanced towards his direction. He hummed as he continued admiring the soft smile on her glossed lips. “You can’t look at me like that,” she mumbled as she shyly dropped her gaze towards the TV remote in her lap. She turned it on as he took a few steps towards her, delicately shutting the door behind him. 

“Why not?” he asked barely above a whisper. She met his tired gaze as he continued towards the bed. She tried to avoid the smirk forming to her lips but it quickly remained. He delicately rolled over her body, laying beside her. He rested his hand beneath his head as he shifted his gaze towards the ceiling. 

“You know why,” she mumbled as she turned on the first movie she saw on Max. She placed the remote on the nightstand. She fully laid down. “You have to stop,” she mumbled as she rolled over, facing him. He took a deep breath as he shifted his gaze towards her. “Stop,” she whispered out as she met his gaze. 

“I’m not doing anything,” he mumbled as he rolled onto his side, their eyes remained connected. Her entire body felt warm as she continued looking deeply into her eyes. “I can’t look at you?” he questioned as his lips curled up into a smirk.

“We’re broken up,” she mumbled as she felt herself inch towards him.

“You let me in,” he whispered as his gaze lowered towards her lips. 

“You gave me no choice,”

“I gave you no choice?” he asked while giggling. 

“You stood there looking all sad and lonely-?” she explained teasingly. 

“Sad and lonely?!” he said in shock, he shook his head laughing.

“You told me you haven’t been sleeping well since we broke up, was I supposed to let you leave?” she said as she subconsciously rested her hand onto his bicep, squeezing it slightly. 

“Maybe,” he mumbled as he met her gaze, suddenly his tone getting serious. He reached over and brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. She looked towards him threw her eyelashes as she took in a shaky breath. 

“You’re going to have to learn to sleep on your own soon,” she whispered as she inched towards him. Their lips only a couple inches apart.

“Stupid London,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, avoiding her lips; instead he forced her onto her back as he rested his head onto her chest. She giggled softly as her hand instantly ran her fingers through his curls. 

“You’ve always wanted to visit London,” she countered as she ran her other hand across his shoulder blades, feeling them tense under her touch.

“No, you’ve always wanted to visit. I just always wanted to be where you are; all the time,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against her collarbone. She pressed her lips together as she stared towards the ceiling, her eyes began to tear up. 

“I must be an idiot to be leaving you, huh?” she asked softly. 

He instantly lifted his head, his eyebrows harsh in a furrow as he stared down towards her. 

“You’re not leaving me, you’re pursuing your dream,” he expressed, a soft smile formed to his lips, “You’ll be happy there,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her; he stopped himself short before he kissed her. He wanted to kiss her, needed to. But he didn’t, he simply scanned her teary features. “I can’t stop you from leaving because that wouldn’t be fair,” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she muttered. He pouted his lips as he rested his head onto her chest. He didn’t reply, simply taking in the moment. Her hand ran through his hair once more, soothingly. “But I know that I am,” she paused as her voice broke, “But I know we’ll get through it, right? We’ll be happy without each other, eventually right?”

He took a deep breath, “Yeah,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up her side as he caressed her skin. 

“Luke?” she mumbled. He hummed, “Look at me,” she let out. He soon lifted his head to look down towards her, admiring her features once more. He leaned towards her delicately kissing her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ll always love you,” he mumbled as opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. She smiled softly towards him. 

“I love you so much,” she whispered as he slowly rested his head back down onto her chest, pressing his lips against her collarbone once more.

~~~

It had been a week since Y/N left for London. It had been a week since they last spoke and since the last time they kissed. For the last week all he would do outside of hockey was lay in his bed. He would lay on his side of the bed, as if he was waiting for Y/N to take the other side for herself.

Jack was starting to grow more and more concerned as Luke wouldn’t have any TV shows or movies playing. Or any music. He would simply lay on his bed, his gaze towards the ceiling. All day.

Jack stood outside of Luke’s door as he was on the phone with their mom. “I’m telling you, Mom, he’s like broken. He only moves if I force food down his throat or we have practice or a game. That’s it,” Jack explained in a hushed tone. 

Luke laid on his bed, hearing every word Jack whispered, not so quietly. “No Mom, she didn’t cheat on him. She just left, moved away-I don’t understand it either-yes, mom, he’s alive-” he stopped talking quickly as Luke pulled the door open quickly, staring down towards his older brother. “Okay, I may not be alive after this, bye Mom. Love you, Luke may kill me-” he ended the phone call quickly as he shoved his phone down into his pocket.

“I’m fine,” Luke rasped out as he walked past Jack towards the fridge.

“Those are the first words you have spoken since she left which is saying something because you used to never shut up,” Jack pressed on as he followed after him. “You’re not fine, you are far from fine. Have you slept?” Jack asked.

“Sort of,” he mumbled as he stared towards the leftovers that he hasn’t eaten over the past few days. 

“What does that even mean?” Jack asked as he rested his hands onto the top of his countertop. 

“I haven’t slept great but I’ve been sleeping,” Luke forced out, tilting his head back.

“Let’s go on a run,” Jack offered, “You need to get out of this apartment and not do anything hockey related,”

“It’s raining,” Luke said simply.

“Then let’s go to the gym,” 

“I just need to lie down,” Luke mumbled as he met Jack’s desperate gaze.

“Dude, you’re not okay,” Jack pleaded.

“I know,” Luke let out, a dry chuckle leaving his throat, “Just let me figure my shit out. I’ll be fine,” Luke said as he walked past Jack. 

“Luke, do you want to watch a movie with me at least?” Jack begged. Luke stopped in his tracks, sighing before he wandered towards the couch. Sitting in his usually spot, leaning his head into his hand. “We have optional skate tomorrow, how about a Harry Potter marathon?” Jack asked, excitedly. Luke simply shrugged.