#but i never explicitly said it would work for everyone

[roosterforme]

Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.

Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry

Length: 11k words (what have I done?)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader

This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 

He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.

When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"

"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."

Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 

He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"

The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."

"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."

"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."

You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.

"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."

"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."

Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 

By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.

"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."

Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 

Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."

And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.

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

For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 

He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 

"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"

"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"

"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."

They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.

That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."

"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 

"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."

As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 

Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 

Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.

He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.

On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 

On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."

Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."

A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 

"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."

"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 

"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 

He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."

You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."

"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 

"Okay. Bob."

He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"

When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."

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

You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 

"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."

You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"

"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.

You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 

Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"

"Yes."

The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 

"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"

Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."

"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.

"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."

"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.

"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 

But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.

On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.

I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.

He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 

He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.

Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.

It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."

Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.

He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 

"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 

His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 

"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 

"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 

You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."

Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"

After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.

"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.

You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."

Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."

This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 

"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 

He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."

Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."

He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"

"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."

Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."

Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 

He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 

"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 

Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 

"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.

"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 

You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 

"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 

"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.

"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"

Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"

You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.

Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 

"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 

"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 

"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.

"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 

"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.

"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 

Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.

Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"

You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 

And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."

"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 

But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.

"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"

"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."

"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.

Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."

He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.

"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.

Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 

Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 

"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.

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

Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.

You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.

You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.

You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 

You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 

"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 

The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 

You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 

Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.

"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 

"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."

You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."

Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"

You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 

The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."

You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"

His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."

You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."

He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"

As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."

Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."

"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 

You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."

Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 

He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."

He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"

He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."

You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 

As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"

"Okay."

He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.

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

Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.

"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 

"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 

"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."

Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."

Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 

"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"

"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.

Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 

"Lieutenant Floyd."

He smiled softly. "Good morning."

"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.

You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"

He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."

Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."

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

You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.

"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 

"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 

The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."

His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 

Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.

You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 

"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.

"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 

You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."

When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 

Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.

You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"

At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.

"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.

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

It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 

"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."

You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"

He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."

The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."

Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"

"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 

As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 

Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"

He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."

"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.

He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 

You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."

It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."

"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."

Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.

He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."

Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."

He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"

You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"

"Yes." 

It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 

Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."

And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 

He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.

Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.

His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"

You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."

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

Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 

Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 

"Is it okay if I taste you?"

All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 

Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 

When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.

Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."

A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 

All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 

"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."

"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 

You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 

His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 

The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 

"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"

His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 

His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 

You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.

"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."

"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."

He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."

He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 

You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.

Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."

He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."

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

Six months later...

After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.

As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 

"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.

"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."

Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 

"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."

"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."

"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."

"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 

You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 

This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.

"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"

Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 

You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."

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

Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!

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[onlyhuis]

can't get you out of my head

member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense. 

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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#1k #k-labels #kflixnet #[📌] — june.writes #[❤️] — smut #[💟] — vernon #vernon smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #vernon scenarios #vernon imagines #vernon x reader #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #took me a sec to remember how i do my post formatting LMAO #i havent forgotten about my 1k requests btw i still plan on doing those. at some point in the next decade

[lixie-phoria]

ੈ✩‧ 🎀🩰 ➛ felix thinks he's subtle as he pines over you

pairing : felix x gn reader

genre : fluff | warnings : none

chan's ver. | hyunjin's ver. | jeongin's version | lee know's ver. | changbin's version | han's ver.

"felix can you please concentrate?"

the idol startles at the comment, looking up from his phone to see the boys staring at him expectantly.

"oh, right," he sheepishly mumbles, placing his phone up side down reluctantly as chan goes back to briefing them on the likely plans of their latest comeback. but felix's heart wasn't in it.

he couldn't help himself when his right leg started bouncing unconsciously and he chewed at the inside of his cheek.

why hadn't you acknowledged the flowers he had sent over to your place over an hour ago? he knew the florist was only a 5 minutes drive from your place, so there was no way you hadn't received them yet.

felix was in love with you, and everyone seemed to know it except for you. but in your defense, he'd never tried to explicitly make a move. he instead resorted to sending you flowers everyday. every evening when you reached home from work, there would be a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen waiting for you at your doorstep. everyday was a new flower with their meaning attached and signed by 'your secret admirer'.

it was adorable and the most touching gesture someone had done for you in a while, and you would thank the sender everyday by storying the flowers or tweeting about them. felix had been waiting for this acknowledgement for the past half an hour, thumb growing sore as he refreshed his notifications every two seconds.

did you not like the flowers he sent this time? were you okay? did you reach home safe?

"felix, if you really want to know if y/n received the flowers or not, just text them about it?"

felix startled for what seemed like the 100th time that day, meeting hyunjin's eyes defiantly.

"if i do that, then they would know i sent it to them."

"isn't that the whole point?"

"no."

all 7 of them collectively let out a sigh. this had been going on for months.

chan understood felix's plight, though. he'd been in a similar position himself.

the elder shook his head, subtly pulling out his own phone and typing in a quick message to you.

[ chan ] hi yn :)) which flower did your secret admirer send this time?

it was an innocent question, since you usually updated chan about the flowers first.

you immediately read his message, but when you didn't reply chan furrowed his brows.

but the next second felix jumped up from his chair, a giddy smile pulling at his lips and scaring han half out of his mind.

"they tweeted about it!! they said they loved them and it made their day better."

what felix failed to notice was the little sun emoji you had used when you tweeted about the flowers; an emoji you explicitly used only when talking about or to felix.

oh, so you knew.

how you knew, they weren't sure, but the boys did not have the heart to tell felix that for all his efforts, turns out he hadn't been subtle at all.

©lixie-phoria, 2023

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids text post #stray kids text #stray kids texts #stray kids x reader #kpop x reader #kpop #stray kids fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids oneshot #skz oneshot #kpop one #jyp #lee felix #felix #felix fluff #stray kids felix #skz felix #felix x reader #felix x you #lee felix x reader

[catnippackets]

disclaimer: as a sex-repulsed aroace person myself--

on one hand, there is definitely a bit of a double standard when it comes to handling canonically queer characters like, from what I've seen in the circles that I frequent (if you've had different experiences then great but I'm just telling it how I see it). for example, you're morally reprehensible if you ship a canon lesbian with a man or refer to a canon bi character as a lesbian. people will be so angry with you. and it's understandable, since there's so little queer rep in comparison to cishet rep that when there IS a rare actual queer character, the unofficial rule is "don't take that away from them when you add more headcanons to them". like, respect that this one is REAL and NOT just a headcanon. I think it makes perfect sense to feel upset when people take that away, even if it is just fiction and not even canon to the original source. and yet, whenever there exists a canon asexual character suddenly it's all "oh well asexual people can still have sex so it's fine if we headcanon THIS canon sexuality as something different". it makes me feel so genuinely heartache-y and depressed to see ppl ignoring that aspect of a character.

and by "canon" I'm also including characters that were never specifically referred to with a label but are very obviously coded as something, because those characters will still get the "even if it's not stated it's pretty obvious!!" treatment when it comes to showing attraction to the same gender, but not when they DON'T show attraction to any gender. like aro and/or ace coding just doesn't count. I understand that it's kind of hard to represent an absence of something, especially when you're only implying it and not even directly showing it, but it's not impossible. there's a lot of characters that you could argue are aroace coded the same way you could argue a character is gay coded. obviously to a degree every queer identity gets disrespected in fandom and it's something you just kinda have to deal with, but it's easier to notice when it's something you personally relate to. I don't think it would bother me as much if we didn't have that unofficial "respect the canon" rule and everyone just went wild with whatever, but the double standard does genuinely hurt me, especially when I see people I thought were cool about this stuff participating in it. so whenever I see someone fiercely defending an asexual character it really makes me feel good, like I'M being defended, not a random fictional character that I might not even recognize the name of. I feel safe, like that person will respect ME.

THAT BEING SAID,

AS a sex-repulsed aroace person who enjoys thinking about the entire spectrum of intimacy and where a character may fall exactly on that spectrum, ALSO as a person who is aware that "asexual" simply means "does not experience sexual attraction" and not necessarily "is violently repulsed by anything sexual", sometimes I DO want to play out scenarios for my own enjoyment. sometimes I DO want to think hm I wonder where this ace character's line is, compared to a different ace character. I wonder if there is anyone who would be an exception for them, and how they could go about dealing with that exception. I wonder if they're favourable, neutral, or repulsed. if those aspects of their character aren't explicitly stated then what's to stop me from playing around with them and working through my own issues in a controlled and non-canon environment? if they have the same identity as me, I am way more likely to want to play around with them like a doll and perhaps play out scenarios that I might have thought about before but don't actually want to do for real. I'm not taking away their identity, after all; I'm just, in this scenario, imagining this ace character as an ace that might have sex on at least one occasion for whatever reason. either just to try it, or because they do have someone they'd make an exception for, or if they got bored enough, whatever the reason. it isn't quite disrespecting their truth unless it's explicitly stated either in canon or by word of god that it's something they're uncomfortable with. and to be honest, if I see another asexual creator headcanoning a character as somewhere on the asexual spectrum and depicting them in sexual situations, it makes me almost happy, to know that they're still acknowledging that character's canon identity and accepting and exploring the nuance that could come with it, even if I personally believe that this specific character would be repulsed instead of neutral or favourable. there's this understanding of "I'm doing a character study exploration thing", and not "I don't care I just wanna sexualize this character"

but I literally feel GUILTY when I want to write what is essentially a thinkpiece disguised as a fanfiction or original story on asexuality and take an asexual character (canon or coded) and involve them in sexual situations to explore different avenues of the spectrum. I feel like I'm betraying everyone who's like me and is frustrated with how aroace characters are treated within fandom. I'm like "am I being just as bad as those other people who will disrespect a character's canon sexuality just because they think that character is hot and want to ship them with someone? do they do the same thing with other types of queer characters? how does this reflect that person's view of people, if they're explicitly told someone feels a certain way and decides to ignore it for their own amusement? or is it just because they're fictional and not real people and I'm being really sensitive and thinking way too much into it? am I not doing the exact same thing? do I have more credence to explore scenarios like this because I am aroace and sex-repulsed myself and therefore have a pass to do whatever I want and it won't come off as a little weird the way it might if someone who's allosexual did it?"

and these two opinions are at war in my mind constantly. like both of them can and do co-exist but I still struggle to accept that lol

#ramblings #asexuality #I almost kinda wanna make a video on this bc I feel like just writing does not even explain what I'm trying to say

[miinatozakiii]

dreamer girl

hirai momo x fem!reader ; smut ; wc: 5.4k

synopsis: momo has a sex dream which has her rethinking her roles in bed, it even makes her realize she’s into a lot of things she thought she would never be intrigued with.

warnings: smut with no plot i just wanted her crying (^‿^) ; kink discovery!!! ; almost somnophilia?? ; reader being called “miss” and “ma’am” ; mommy kink ; overstimulation kinda ; bondage ; ummmmm did i miss anything ; momo is a bottom!!! ; whipped momo ; kinda filthy idk i got carried away ; cursing lolll

a/n: the first half of this was written right before i fell asleep i apologize, but it gets better (i think)

momo was always known to be the more dominant girlfriend, not that it was explicitly said or anything—she just had that rep.

to be fair, it was true. her hand would be on your waist when you were out together, ensuring that everyone knew you were hers. she’d drive you everywhere and you were content being her passenger princess, enjoying the occasional squeeze and caress of your thigh every now and then. typical pillow princeess, spoiled, and bottom girlfriend treatment—you loved it.

it was safe to say that momo wore the pants in the relationship, but she was a sucker for you behind closed doors. you’d pamper her endlessly and to your amusement; she’s incredibly easy to fluster.

now, what’s also behind closed doors is what happens in bed (and on the couch, the kitchen counter—pretty much any space in your house where you can be held against—basically anywhere, but bedroom can be used as an umbrella term in this case.) momo can be pretty versatile when it comes to sex; she can be the sweetest soul ever, whispering sweet nothings and endless praises while her fingers pound into you ruthlessly. there are also moments where she’ll be holding you by the throat and making you scream, teasing you endlessly and degrading the hell out of you while stripping your orgasm away, she loves the control she has over you in bed and she knows you like it. momo loves it.

most of the time—if not all the time—momo is in charge when in bed and sure, maybe you’ll finger her or eat her out here and there, but it’s usually her taking the lead, always pleasing you.

momo is content that you easily submit to her and you’re fine with letting her ruin you; after all, no one else can do it like her. momo’s pretty content with this dynamic, she’s never had to think twice about it.

not until recently.

momo does not know how she had gotten here, there’s no memory that had led up to this moment.

you’re sitting on the couch with the tank top that momo adores on you and it shows a bit of your stomach, your collarbones, and your toned arms; your girlfriend is all worked up just from the sight of you like this.

momo is on the ground—on her knees—and your gaze is lowered down on her. your eyes hold a strange allure, something lustful, and hungry; momo feels small in the position she’s in, she’s never seen you like this, but fuck does it make her all nervous seeing you in this new light. she ignores the discomfort building up on her knees as she kneels before you.

“you look so pathetic like this.” you say, voice low and dangerously sweet, opposing your words. momo whimpers unintentionally and you laugh at her. “i haven’t even touched you yet, don’t tell me you’re all riled up from this?”

“i— no,”

you grab her face so her cheeks are squeezed between your thumb and the rest of your fingers, her lips squish a bit and she lets out a small, nasally whine.

your jaw tightens and you correct her, “no miss.”

momo is not used to this side of you—not used to you being so stern—but holy shit she’s entranced. her body tenses up and she gulps lightly.

“s-sorry miss…”

you loosen your grip. “that’s more like it.”

momo’s breath quivers when you rub her bottom lip with your thumb, pushing it down slightly while looking at her with a lidded, lust-filled stare.

“i wanna have my way with you, you’ll let me do that, yeah?”

“yes miss, whatever you’d like.” momo responds almost immediately; it comes out rushed and breathless. you giggle at this adorable, needy version of momo.

“what a good girl…” you coo, “let’s go to the bedroom, yeah? rather i’d make a mess out of you there than here.” you say, and momo nods eagerly.

when the two of you make it to the bedroom, you quickly order her to take off the shirt she has on. your girlfriend is quick to follow your commands, and when you tell her to lie down on the bed she does as told.

you walk up towards her then situate yourself so you’re straddling her, your core just barely making contact with hers. leaning over, you press a kiss to her forehead and back away, bringing your hand up to her face to cup her chin.

“you look so adorable, baby.” you mumble, sliding your hand down her neck slowly. momo’s tummy hitches when you trace down to her collarbone and she moans softly. just before you trail down to the prominent line that separates the muscles at her core—

momo wakes up, a sharp breath slipping past her lips.

she blinks once, twice, then shifts in the bed. her eyes are squinty when she opens them despite the room being pretty dim.

there’s a weight on her shoulder and she turns to see you sleeping peacefully, feeling the soft breaths you let out on her neck and the way your chest heaves up and down against her. you shift closer to her in your slumber, lazily draping your arm across her torso and snuggling her like a teddy bear.

your girlfriend smiles softly and kisses you on the forehead groggily before closing her eyes again, she almost forgets about the thrilling dream before she falls asleep.

almost.

momo spends a minute or two replaying the scene in her head. she hates to admit it, but the thought of her submitting to you turns her on more than she’d figure it would and makes her ponder for a while before she actually falls asleep. she thinks about the way you looked at her, how you called her a “good girl,” and the tone of your voice. after a couple of minutes of her furrowing her brows, shifting her hips around, and trying to shake off the thought of you being all commanding; momo is finally drowsy enough to fall asleep again.

a week after momo has this enticing dream, you’re sat on the couch with her head on your lap. your fingers twirl her hair around subtly, every other minute they dig deeper and massage her scalp gently.

your pointer brushes along the curve of her jaw, then runs down her neck and onto her jawline. you rest your hand there, rubbing her soft skin lightly before going back to massaging her scalp. with this action, momo shifts in her place a bit, and a slow, pleased breath leaves her lips.

you giggle quietly. “damn, must be comfy huh?” you mumble, continuing to massage her head how she likes it.

momo shifts again, and this time you catch her thighs rub from the corner of your eye. your brows furrow just barely when momo sighs, mumbling something you can’t seem to catch. you take your hands out of her scalp and watch her squirm more, her lips part as her brows crease. she continues to rub her thighs together, even biting her lip in her sleep. you tilt your head, looking at her with curiosity, and then everything clicks:

she’s having a sex dream.

a small laugh leaves your lips and you rest your hand against her cheek while her features etch into a familiar expression of bliss while her breaths get shakier. you watch with interest, curious and honestly pretty very turned on by the way she’s squirming; it’s different than her usual riled-up self, a little more needy, almost—compliant?

“y/n— i, i mean— miss, sorry miss…” she says under her breath, but loud enough for you to hear. your brows raise and you look at her with surprise.

miss?

there’s a blatant moan that leaves her mouth and her bottom lip trembles a bit. “p-please, please miss, i’ll be a good girl for you… please…”

“holy shit,” you mutter, watching your girlfriend rut her hips up and lean her head back slightly. “oh my god?”

something about this momo makes your own hips move up involuntarily and your top teeth trap your bottom lip as they subtly bite down. your hand finds itself inching down to momo’s thigh, and your thumb rubs small circles against the skin below where her shorts end; momo groans at the contact.

your middle finger finds its way in between momo’s legs and lightly grazes against the cloth covering her heat—it’s damp, no, it’s soaked.

“fuck,” you sigh, “bet you feel good in that dream, yeah?”

“y/n, please…”

before you can touch her where she needs it—before you can touch her properly as she sleeps, not just a feathered touch—momo jerks and sits up, groaning then rubbing her eyes. she turns so that she’s sitting like you; legs dangling off the couch and back facing the cushion behind her. she sits up properly while she recovers from her quick nap; and her tremendously appealing dream.

her cheeks grow even warmer when she sees the hand that is still in between her legs. “w-what, what are you doing?” she stutters, flustered from the dream and how wet she is.

you chuckle and decide to tease her just a bit, “were you having a sex dream about me?”

momo pauses, eyes widening. she chokes out a response, “i um, well, yeah… was i—”

“you called me miss, what’s with that?” you ask, watching her whole body tense up and eyes dart away from yours.

momo shakes her head then rubs her eyes, shifting away from your spot on the couch. you’re not going to take that as a response.

you lean closer and place a chaste peck to her jawline, then mutter in her ear, “c’mon, you seemed like you were enjoying your dream, it was cute.”

“y/n i—” she starts, shivering when your lips graze her earlobe and your breath hits it suddenly. “it’s just a dream i mean, i just—”

“too scared to admit something babe?” you laugh, “it’s okay if you want to bottom, not judging ever. actually, i’d be more than happy to switch roles y’know. i wanna make you feel like that, can i?””

your hand snakes around her waist and slides under her shirt, the feel of your skin on hers makes her breath tremble. momo whines when your lips tease her jaw again.

“it’s stupid, y/n, really.” momo tries, “it was just a silly dream.” she argues. your girlfriend inches away from your touch and starts to stand, you catch her by the wrist and grip it firmly.

“not so fast momoring.” you say sternly, looking at her with a quirked brow. you stand up swiftly and push her down onto the couch, standing in front of her now and looking down, eager for an answer. “you’re going to tell me what you were dreaming about.”

momo looks up at you and something about how helpless she looks turns you on more than you’d like to admit.

“words momo, use your words and tell me. you can do it, yeah?”

her hips subconsciously shift when you say that, and she continues to avoid your gaze, frantically looking around the room, the floor, and anything but you. her unusually timid self makes you laugh at the sight of her—sleepy and bashful, also pretty turned on from the way her thighs rub against one another—and then you use your hand to tilt her head up so she faces you.

“words, or i can stop what i’m doing, you want me to stop?”

“no, please no.” momo responds almost immediately and unintentionally—she said without thinking—almost as if she were out of breath. you laugh in response, tucking her hair behind her ear. “it’s just… embarrassing…” she adds.

“just tell me about it and we can make your dream a reality, yeah? seemed pretty good from the way you were moaning my name, baby.” you tease, “now, speak up.”

momo hesitates for a moment, looking at you and folding from the sultry voice you talk to her with, low and alluring. she darts her eyes away quickly and then returns to the burning eye contact. she gulps lightly, then starts to speak with a trembling voice,

“i um, you… i,” she clenches her jaw before starting again, surprised at how she’s obeying to you so easily. “first i was on my knees—for you—in the bedroom.” she looks down quickly, jaw tensing when she cringes at her words. her mind is a mess and her heart beats at an abnormal pace, but she’s way too turned on to turn back now.

you snicker, “were you now?”

“yeah.” she admits. your hand slides to her neck and your fingers play with her hair subtly, she continues, “and… you told me to call you miss and ma’am—which i did do—and, fuck this is really embarrassing y/n, it’s all stupid, really—”

 “ah ah, keep going.” you say in amusement, breaking the eye contact so you can look at how her lip’s part and jaw tighten.

“you took care of me,” momo finally says, “really well.”

“yeah? want me to take care of you like in your dream?” you ask, and she nods eagerly.

you smile proudly at how brave it was to admit this to you, and you’re glad because holy shit did it sound intriguing and as her girlfriend, you have to make her dreams come true.

you bite your lip while tilting your head slightly, then simply say— no, you order: “bedroom, come.” and momo follows you when you start to walk towards the shared room, feelings of excitement flowing throughout her body. there’s no way her sex dream is about to come true.

the door closes behind you and you turn to see your girlfriend standing there nervously, looking at you eagerly with a lust-filled, yet anxious stare.

you take a step forward and her breath quivers, you smile at the sight. “down on the bed, sit.” you order, momo listens competently and does as she’s told. “good girl.”

now with that remark momo feels her tummy do a flip and her pussy throb, the way you say it with that low, seductive voice kills her. it makes her knees weak. you walk up and trace your finger up her neck, and with the way her muscles contract subtly when she tenses up, you can tell she’s already sensitive and on edge. it’s ironic seeing she’s the one who usually has you like this.

“now tell me more about your dream, give me the full details.”

“i told you, you made me feel good… y/n please, it’s embarrassing—” momo is cut off when you harshly hold her face up, her cheeks being squished by your fingers when you do so. a low whine escapes her lips and she grips the sheets, looking at you with puppy eyes that make almost make you laugh.

“god you’re pathetic, so shy it’s almost annoying. now, miss or ma’am from now on, since you’re being so incompetent.” you scoff. “when i tell you to do something you do it. got it?”

momo nods quickly.

“and now i’m telling you— no, this is an order: tell me about your dream, momo.” you say sternly, and momo gulps, looking at the desire and lust in your eyes.

she’s not used to this side of you, not used to this bossy type of y/n and it’s making her wetter than she had anticipated. momo hesitates and tries to maintain eye contact with you, but it’s hard.

“sorry miss,” she says in the cutest voice ever, so desperate, so obedient. you could get used to this.

for the most part, you’re being so stern with her because it’s really fucking hot seeing her like this, seeing her fold under you so easily when you’re the one who’s usually in this position. you also need to know more about her dream because one: how will you know what she really wants from you, how you can please her to the best of your ability. two: you want to know more of what’s going on in that dirty little brain of hers., what fantasies you’ve been unaware of.

momo cannot believe she’s submitting so easily to you, and there’s no escape from this confrontation of her little sex dream. so, she does what she has to, what you ordered her to do—all because she’s a good girl, your good girl.

“my wrists,” she begins, struggling to recollect the memories from her dream due to how flustered she is. momo can feel her cheeks literally burning, and the way your eyes drill into hers does not help her state right now. “they were tied with the black tie i wear to work and i was naked, you were touching me, ruining me.” momo locks her eyes with yours and her brows give in, relaxing as she fully gives herself to you with that helpless, needy expression. “i was being good and you said i was a good girl too, yours. you left me a mess, left me crying.” and after saying all of this, after recollecting the memories from her very enticing dream, she musters up the courage to ask, “can you take care of me like that? please?”

her pride and whatever embarrassment she had from earlier is out the window at this point; now the only thing she wants is you to ruin her, she doesn’t care how flustered she’ll be after this, the only thing taking over her is the hungry desire for your care and touch. just like that damn dream of hers.

you smile, satisfied with this more detailed answered. “of course baby, as long as you’re good for me.” you assure, cupping her cheek and letting her ease herself into your palm. “you can do that, yeah?”

“yes ma’am.”

“good.”

you take your hand off her cheek and she whines lowly, earning a small chuckle of amusement from you. turning around and taking a few steps, you reach for where momo hangs her work tie on the hook drilled into the door, then grab the fabric hung on it. you wrap it around so that it’s resting around your neck untied. momo watches you attentively, focusing on the way your hips sway subtly, eyes the way your fingers play with the fabric as you walk back to her.

“clothes off.”

“yes, ma’am,” momo responds, quickly taking off her t-shirt and shorts. you bite your lip when you see her nipple just barely poking at the thin bra she has on, leaving a small—yet noticeable—small bulge in the fabric that covers her breasts. your eyes run down her body, pleased to see the damp fabric that’s darkened by her arousal, which paints a smirk on your face.

“you’re so pretty baby, i’m gonna ruin you, ‘kay?

“yes, please, do whatever ma’am.” she says, hands gripping the sheets to contain her eagerness. “i’m all yours.”

“i’m glad you know your place.” you mutter before placing your hand on the center of her upper chest, just under her collarbones. you ease her into lying down onto the bed—making her shift over a bit so her shoulder blades press against the headboard—and straddle her. “my good girl.”

to be completely honest, you’re not one hundred percent sure where you’re going with this, and really, you’re using what momo does to you against her, she’s better at this dominance thing than you are. your first instinct is to close the distance and kiss her, locking your plump lips against her soft ones. your girlfriend whines into the kiss, hands desperately clawing at the exposed skin that isn’t hidden by the crop top you have on. she lets you take over and lead the kiss, following your lips when you decide to linger and then pull back half an inch or two. she’s desperate for your touch and whining each time you tease her, it’s amusing.

you start to suck at the skin on her neck, earning a choked-out groan from momo and a string of curses when your hands start to add stimulus by rubbing circles down on her inner thigh. you pull away from her skin and gaze at the artwork you’ve left on her neck. momo looks at you with the neediest look you’ve ever seen; it’s incredibly tempting and makes you want more.

“so cute.” you mumble. momo sighs, resting her head against the headboard before you press another kiss to her jaw. your hands slither to around her back and your fingers unclasp the navy bra she has on, it falls down around her, leaving the top of her body uncovered. “i’m gonna ruin you.” you say, almost as if it were a promise; a very dirty promise.

you kiss her deeply again, letting her chest squish into yours as you do so and she’s so sensitive that the small amount of contact makes her groan weakly.

“mommy, please… need you, please” her voice breaks slightly, so desperate for attention her sensitive tits that push against you. what she calls you catches you off guard, and it even takes momo by surprise, it just left her mouth on accident. she pauses in place after processing what had slipped past her lips, quickly backing down from embarrassment and her voice shakes when she catches herself, “i-i didn’t mean to say th—"

“shh, shh baby,” you assure, growing needy yourself from what slipped from her lips. “miss” and “ma’am” were already hot enough coming from momo, but “mommy?” holy shit that made your head spin, and it’s the last thing you would’ve thought you were into—but now you’re sure you’re into it after hearing her say it like that. undoubtedly, it’s undeniable that you’re into all of this.

“be patient baby, mommy knows what she’s doing, ‘kay? i’ve got you.”

momo lets herself relax again knowing that you don’t mind her slip-up—one that made your pussy pulse severely—and she lets you make your previous marks darker, you make sure it’ll take at least a week for them to fade away.

you’re pretty new to all of this, new to being in control, the new title you’re being given, this momo; everything is all so thrilling and you fucking love it.

finally, you decide to give momo what she wants, she’s been so obedient and patient, you might as well be generous.

“sit up for me princess, hands behind your back.” and momo does exactly what she’s told just like the good girl she is.

you pull the tie off of your neck and hold it with both hands, bringing it over momo’s head and behind her so you can wrap the tie around her wrists, restraining her hands with a secure knot when you finish tying. now momo’s completely under your control, and her hands are all tied up, meaning you can do whatever. it makes her cunt pulse so badly and she desperately needs you to ease that.

you start by pecking her lower neck sensually, then you start planting kisses down to her breast and eventually latching your mouth onto it. momo moans immediately—and very loudly—as soon as your lips make contact with her sensitive area. your tongue abuses her nipple, swirling around it while you suck and stimulate her; momo might cum just from this, and she’s baffled at how sensitive she is for you.

she shivers when your hand slides up her torso, twitching when your fingers graze along her abs. she continues to moan, it’s more of a whimper at this point from how fucking delicate she is, and she can’t do anything about the overwhelming sensation due to her hands being unable to grip at your skin or hair.

you pay attention to the other tit, giving it the same treatment as you did with the other: sucking on it, swirling your tongue around, leaving marks, and making her breath stutter. momo’s back arches as you leave a trail of kisses down her abs, whining strangled “mommy’s” and begging you to fuck her good.

she’s lightheaded when you press your fingers against her panties, and when you slip them off she whimpers pathetically; it’s adorable.

momo sighs desperately, pretty much begging every time she says something coherent. “a-ah, p-please mommy i’ve been good…”

without warning your lips clasp onto her pussy, and momo’s wrists strain against the tie wrapped tightly around them. she twitches when you eat her out, your nose pressing to her clit every now and then while your tongue fucks her into oblivion. momo tries to hold back her orgasm, i mean, you’ve only toyed with her tits so far and you’ve been eating her out for the past (what momo thinks, though her mind is really fucked right now) thirty seconds, and her breath is already erratic.

“m-miss, fuck, m-mommy p-please i-im—"

her attempt to hold back her climax fails when you suck on her clit and she feels herself shudder as she cums into your mouth. her thighs close around you and words twist at her throat; she practically sobs as you lap up all her arousal. you look up and catch the way her tummy quivers when she breathes, the way her head rests against the headboard while she collects herself.

when she looks down, she looks at your eyes peering back into her own, lust filled and lidded.

“you sound so pretty all riled up baby.”

a smirk finds its way to your lips and you trail back up her body with kisses, making your way back to your chest. before you indulge into her sensitive tits again, you decide to be a tease and brush your fingers over, they spring back into place from how hard they are and you smile. you flick them and momo lets out a choked-out moan. then, you make her scream by suddenly pinching the hardened bud between your fingers, you like this helpless momo. she’s unable to do anything about your teasing and touching. you place hand in between her thighs and two fingers run up and down her folds, teasing her entrance while you kiss her lips hungrily.

she struggles to kiss you back properly, distracted by the sensation down at her core. when you pull away she whimpers, then moans when you stick two fingers in. her head leans into you and she groans into your skin breathlessly, “m-mommy, agh keep going… so good miss, fuck,”

“mommy making you feel good?” you ask, and she nods against you, making you smile. “my pretty girl, so good for me just as she should be.”

you plunge into her harshly, fingers making contact with the sweet spots of her walls that make her bite into your shoulder. at this point, her wrists are going to have crimson marks from how much they’ve been pushing and struggling against the fabric that restrains her.

her breath grows heavier and tears start to form from how overwhelmed and sensitive she is, the word “please” is repeated at least ten times as you fuck her relentlessly. she’s quick to cum again after you thrust into her with your fingers again—this time pretty harshly, the top of your palm abusing her clit as you do so—which makes her back arch dangerously and tears roll down her cheeks, her flushed, hot cheeks.

holy shit. you think, looking at her state. her face is rosy, her pussy is already starting to swell, and tears form in her eyes again; she looks so goddamn pretty like this. you want her sobbing.

without warning, you shove two fingers back in and momo yelps, her body jerking from the sudden pleasure.

“w-wait, m-mommy— ‘s too much—”

“shh shh baby, i know you can take it. you’re a good girl right? gonna take it for mommy?”

momo closes her eyes tightly and catches her breath. she nods, then responds with a strained voice, “anything f-for you,”

“good girl.” you say, and you decide to push her limits a bit, adding a third finger to her battered, swelling pussy.

this is what has tears flowing down and despite the sobs, momo doesn’t want it to stop; she’d cry even more if you were to take your fingers out, if you were to stop abusing her core with those fingers of yours. her mind is so foggy, everything starts to get dizzy and you simply watch your girlfriend squirm and lose herself from your touch.

“so much, ah— m-mommy ‘m gonna cum, c-can i cum? please? please let me…” she begs.

“of course you can sweetheart, mommy is going to take care of you, always.” you assure, kissing her cheek and tasting the slight saltiness from her tears. “cum for mommy, yeah? you’ve been good.”

your fingers move in and out of her cunt with a sharp rhythm and curl at the spot that earns the loudest lewd noises. her breath hitches again and a knot forms in her stomach. she groans, cries, and whines—all at once, somehow—and you feel her walls tighten around all three fingers.

momo cums and a loud cry—practically a scream, one that might have your neighbors asking what’s going on—escapes her, the loudest of the night probably. her hips jerk up, she twitches, and tears fall onto her collarbone and chest. she falls limp against the headboard when you take your fingers out and her breath is still heavy, but she recollects herself.

with your thumb, you wipe away a few of her tears and kiss her incredibly swollen and red lips softly. she whines quietly into you as you do all of this, you caress her neck and help her relax after her overwhelming climax.

you pull away and admire your girlfriend: flushed cheeks, puffy lips, pink nose, and dampened cheeks from the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing down.

you undo the knot of the tie tightened around her wrists and throw it somewhere to the right. momo brings her—now free—hand up to her face and wipes her tears away, sniffling lightly. you smile at how adorable she looks; she’s all ruined and littered with deep red marks all over her neck, body, and inner thighs.

“c’mere.” you mumble, settling yourself beside her. you put out your arms and momo weakly leans into you against your chest, you pull the (now slightly dampened at the bottom) blanket over yourselves.

“was i good?” momo asks genuinely. you smile and kiss her forehead, then push her hair out of her face.

“more than good, you did great.” you assure. momo moves her head so that it’s situated in the crook of your neck, and she kisses it softly; a small giggle leaves your lips. “did you always have dreams like this?” you ask.

“once,” momo mumbles, “i woke up in the middle of the night from it last week, but that’s it. only that dream and… earlier…”

“would you have told me about these dreams if i didn’t catch you sleep-moaning?” you say teasing her with the last part of your response.

momo thinks to herself for a brief moment, then says, “i don’t know, it’s embarrassing.”

“no, not at all.” you say, “i didn’t know you had a mommy kink—i didn’t know i had one.”

“me neither… it just, slipped out.” she says, “ugh, this is so embarrassing, stop.”

you laugh and kiss her head. “well, i liked it a lot. you clearly liked it too.”

“uggghh.” momo groans.

“c’mon, am i wrong?”

momo pauses for a bit.

“no.” she responds.

you decide to leave momo alone and give her a little breather after fucking her to tears and teasing her about her newfound kink. you massage her scalp and feel her fully relax into you, her eyes close and she kisses you one more time.

“momoring, before you sleep.” you mumble, she hums. “can we do this again?”

she responds quickly, “please.”

you giggle and smile again, pressing her naked body closer to you and closing your own eyes. momo is glad that her dreams came true, and she hopes there are more dreams like these that can be fulfilled in the future.

#miinatozakiii #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice smut #kpop smut #twice #hirai momo #momo twice #momo smut #momo x reader #hirai momo x reader

[pollyanna-nana]

I think it’s so interesting that Kui decided to show us how differences in lifespan affect tallmen and elf relationships from both angles with Kabru and Thistle and also how that reflects real-life abusive situations. And then goes on to deconstruct that by showing how genuine understanding and respect CAN exist between the races with other characters!

Kabru being raised by an elf (who is shown to only have a superficial respect for short-lived races, the same one might have for a pet in a lot of ways) and treated like a child even though he’s in his 20s. After all, a 20 year old elf would be a kindergartener, and Milsiril seems to have a rather toxic combination of overprotectiveness and dehumanizing tendencies that leads to perpetually seeing the children she raises as children, even well into adulthood for their race.

And yet, we see with characters like Otta that this doesn’t have to be true of EVERY elf (nor should it logically be, especially those who spend actual time around short-lived races.) For all the jokes made at her expense I actually think it’s really interesting that she’s also canonically queer since recognizing the agency and maturity of short-lived races is in itself a type of queerness in elf society from what we’ve seen. Senshi too, as funny as his misconstruing Chilchuck as a child is I think it’s really important that he realizes his mistake and rethinks his assumptions on short-lived races following his example. It doesn’t HAVE to be the way it is, but it will take work on each side to improve things.

Then on Thistle’s end… woof. Complete opposite of Kabru, it was difficult for the tallmen of the golden kingdom to comprehend how someone in their, like, 60s could still behave like a teenager and chalked that up to a personal and moral failing rather than literal differences in biology (kind of an autistic mood but that’s a conversation for later.) It’s just as disturbing as Milsiril’s treatment of the children she adopts really, since they explicitly didn’t want an adult that could exert their own agency and control over their situation. And the thing is it’s not like that’s totally uncalled for, the previous points show how a non-insignificant number of members of long-lived races do genuinely see short-lived races as inferior, or are otherwise ignorant, like with below.

It ended up working out just how they wanted, because Thistle’s child-like innocence and singleminded desire to make the only family he had happy meant he was never going to do anything he didn’t think would help them… which then backfired, because of course it would. It’s overcontrolling and manipulative parenting, but with the added spice of lifespan differences and magic. Kabru ended up detesting the elves that raised him and wanting nothing to do with them, and Thistle basically had a massive breakdown trying too hard to please everyone. Infantilization vs adultification, as some have said, with predictable results.

#polly speaks #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #kabru of utaya #thistle dungeon meshi #child abuse tw #to be safe #ask to tag #sorry for the milsiril hate I’m willing to hear perspectives but everything about her icks me out #dungeon meta

[karliahs]

i often see people say they can't go to the library because they lost/never returned/dropped some library books in a bath or something, and now view themselves as heinous library criminals who would be yelled at and/or hit with a huge bill if they ever went back

and obvs i can't make promises unless you came into my specific library and were served by me but here are 10 reasons i think if you went in and politely explained the situation to a member of staff it'd probably be fine:

consider this from the library's perspective. those books are probably never coming back regardless. that value (having the books back), which is probably the reason the library has a fines system to begin with, is not gonna happen. the value of retaining you as a customer though is right there in front of them

if you explain that a fine is too high for you to pay and that that is keeping you from coming back to the library, what you've basically said is that there is an impediment to your library access. part of the job of anyone who works in a library is to remove that impediment

library computer systems will vary hugely and if it's been a long time there is a significant chance there isn't even a record of your lost books anymore

the pandemic affected library access significantly and a lot of libraries will have had amnesties once they reopened to get people over the hump of oh god oh god i've had these books FOREVER i can never show my face again. even if that amnesty is officially over, the fact that there was one helps the person in front of you justify waiving the fee (which, if they're like me and you aren't being cruel, they are probably looking for a reason to do!)

a lot of libraries have reduced or no fines for children, so if you lost books as a kid there's even more of a chance there won't be a fine

the person you speak to at the front desk at a library is probably not an accredited Librarian TM but a nice underpaid person who has to deal with a lot of difficult customers going off on them for no reason (also accredited librarian tms are also pretty nice usually). i would take 100 people politely explaining that they've lost books and are very embarrassed over one person whose purpose that day is to belittle me, a captive audience who has to be nice no matter what. library assistant jobs are often not that different from customer service jobs! a lot of library assistant jobs now explicitly are customer service jobs! it is so so likely that that person wants nothing less than to have an adversarial conversation with you

if you haven't been to a library since you were a lot younger, it is almost certainly no longer what you're picturing. most modern libraries are actively trying to move away from the image of severe quiet building where you will be shhhhed and sternly told to look after your books or else. we're trying to be vibrant community hubs full of friendly people who will do their best to help you

library employees, bizarrely enough, probably don't think of each individual book as being that valuable compared to other readers. if you own a book and keep it forever and read it maybe twice, barring any crazy accidents it'll probably last decades. if a book is on the shelves of a public library and is regularly borrowed, it'll last...3-5 years, maybe. a busy library will discard large volumes of stock every year because that's just how it works. you lose that sense of the sanctity of every copy of every book pretty fast in these kinds of jobs

libraries need people to use them! a huge huge part of getting library funding is demonstrating how many people use and value your service. you and the library staff are on the same side: they also want you to be able to use the library again

a public library has witnessed behaviours the likes of which you cannot imagine. people have shoved books down our toilets. people have looked at porn on library computers in full view of everyone around them. people have thrown chairs out of the window. losing books happens all the time and is so unlikely to phase staff who are probs a little bit dead inside

tldr: come back to the library, we need you visiting and using the service more than we need the books you accidentally lost, also if the person you talk to is anything like me they're probably just glad you aren't yelling at them

#like so many situations in life if you are polite and reasonable you will be a blessing to customer service workers #people are so fucking rude and dehumanising i do not care if you lost one of our books when you moved house 5 hears ago #talking

[wyniepooh]

aaron

hotch doesn't really like when fellow members of the team calls him by his first name. for you, however, maybe he can make an exception.

traumatized!hotch core, mentions of stabbing and TW: foyet 😔. The team investigates a case that reminds hotch of f*yet, he is not well and reader sees right through him. bau!reader, hurt/comfort/fluff that turns into something a lil more towards the end slightly bc it’s hotch so i can’t help myself .

hotch preferred when everyone called him by his last name. he never explicitly said it, but it was an unspoken rule of sorts. whether it was hotchner, hotch, or even whatever nickname penelope often came up with, he didn’t mind. as long as it wasn’t aaron.

'aaron' felt too personal to use with his co-workers. too intimate. as much as you guys were like a family, hearing aaron come out of spencer’s mouth would be as strange as a quiet crime scene.

and heck, was this crime scene hectic. the aftermath of a negotiation involving drawn weapons was always hazy— body overfilled with adrenaline and running on approximately three hours of sleep. all the law enforcement agents you could think of was present, interviewing people, collecting samples. all the lights and voices didn't help with the anxiety. but this scenario in particular had everyone scrambling to collect their thoughts.

hotch, especially. the mo of the unsub was eerily similar to that of foyet— the intricate stabbing that ensured the victim suffered long and hard but was still conscious enough to feel every inch of the next stab. the whole team was aware of the elephant stealing all the oxygen in the room, but no one really knew what to say or do given hotch’s constant stern affirmation that he was fine.

and so the whole team walked into the local police department in silence, hotch leading as the rest of you trailed behind. tired of the crickets practically sounding, you cleared your throat and exclaimed,

“so, does anyone want to get some food? i saw an authentic taco sta-“

your words trailed off as your eyes followed the figure in front of you, who was walking away haggardly towards the washrooms. you turned back towards your teammates, all of them shrugging and letting out a sigh. eventually, they all walked away with a promise to fulfill your hungry request and disappeared to their work stations.

you stood outside the bathrooms for at least five minutes, taking a step forward, then back. forward, then back. finally, you shook your head quickly, straightened your shoulders, and pushed the door into the room.

"h-hey! this is the men's-"

you didn't bother to acknowledge the young police officer by the urinal who was frantically pulling up his pants. you simply lifted an extended arm and nodded to silence him. you walked to the front of the stall where you spotted hotch's perfectly polished shoes, and stopped. once the guy left, you knocked on the door.

“hotch? i know you’re in there.”

silence. you began tapping your foot and crossed your arms, blowing out a rush of air. exasperated, you repeated again, “hotchner. open up. please.”

a click enabled you to release a breath of relief, the door opening to reveal hotch sitting on the closed toilet, head looking down with his hands crossed in between his legs.

“listen… i know you said you’re fine and that you're good to keep going, but we both know that’s bullshit. we know you. too well, even. we can tell that you're struggling, whether you like it or not. it’s obvious this case has brought up…”

your voice progressively got more silent as you noticed the response you got. silence. it wasn’t until you stopped talking did you realize his rapidly rising shoulders for each breath he took, and the way he fidgeted with his hands to hide the shaking. you immediately knelt down to his level, putting both hands on his shoulder.

“hotch? hey-“

“i'm sorry,” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i’ve been dismissive the whole day. i want to say it’s simply because i didn’t sleep last night, or the night before that, and that is part of it but… the reason i haven’t been able to sleep is because of the case. i thought the therapy was enough, i thought it would be fine once i was distracted with work,” he sighed, “i know i’ve made you all uncomfortable and i don’t know what to do about it. i wish i-“

“hotch.”

“-could just open up. i’m so sor-“

“aaron.”

he stopped his sentence midway and found your concerned eyes.

you chuckled, “if you say sorry one more time, i’m going to really make you sorry.”

it took a second for aaron to muster out a laugh as well, but eventually he did, and the sound put a genuine smile on your face.

still kneeling, your hand came up to softly caress his jaw. “don’t apologize for how you’re feeling, aaron. i’ll admit that the atmosphere is a little more tense than usual, but let's be honest here," you dropped your hand from his face, “we're all tense. we're profilers, for gods sake. what are we but tense?"

aaron gave a nod of approval, his lip curving into a small smile.

"and also, don't feel obligated to talk to us. everyone has their own coping methods. we're just reminding you that if you do need a person to talk to... we're here to lend an ear. and of course, we hope you remember that it's more than okay to take a break or admit you're uncomfortable. we get it. we won’t judge.”

you feigned a thinking face, “well, rossi might judge a little, but at least we won’t!”

he snickered and nodded again at your words, taking a deep breath. his hands had stopped shaking and his breaths seem to be more regulated. you smiled at him one last time before the both of you began to stand up.

as aaron straightened himself, he realized something. he didn't like the others calling him by his first name, but there was something different about the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue. in fact, he would do anything to hear you say 'aaron' again.

before you could both exit, the stall door behind you suddenly closed. a surprised ‘oh’ left your lips, and aaron looked equally as confused. the inclosed space pushed you closer to him, and just for a second, you saw his eyes flicker to your lips. you expected him to open the door like a gentlemen or apologize for the close proximity, but nothing ever came. you opened your mouth to say something, but all you could breathe was a quiet whisper of his name before he crashed his lips onto yours.

-

a/n: the washroom stall door was truly a paid actor.

#wyniepooh #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #agent hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotch imagine #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch fluff #ssa hotchner #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #hotch smut #cm imagine #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch smut #hotch

[diorsluv]

casual , part 3

“ i’ve heard so many rumors ”

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→ rutgermcgroarty 📸📸

→ edwards.73 wtf

→ jackhughes no absolutely not

→ luca.fantilli HUH

→ dylanduke25 WHAT

→ vivianliu stop acting like i’ve never said ts before 🙄

edwards.73 you’re really fucking hot

liked by yourusername

→ lhughes_06 FUCK NO

→ jackhughes STEP THE FUCK BACK

→ _quinnhughes hey man what the FUCK

→ vivianliu GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY GIRL

username14 ETHANS COMMENT?????!?!?!?!?!?!

markestapa pretty girl 🫣

→ yourusername that’s so unnatural stop

→ markestapa just doing what the homies do

→ lhughes_06 did the lack of my presence fuck with your heads because i explicitly told everyone to NOT mess w my sister.

→ markestapa suck it up lil bro

mackie.samo GODDAMN

→ yourusername LMFAOOOO

→ jackhughes back the hell up dude

→ _quinnhughes this is a literal fever dream

username54 rumors aint rumors anymore

username38 ethan’s practically screaming their relationship status to the world rn

colecaufield i’m not a part of this in any way but you genuinely look really good rosie

→ yourusername awwww thank you ☺️

→ jackhughes if you ever fucked around with my sister i would punch you in the face

→ colecaufield I HAVENT AND I WONT I SWEAR

→ jackhughes YEAH U BETTER NOT CUZ IM READY 🤺

sidneycrosby_87_ looking great kiddo!

→ yourusername oh my god sidney crosby.

→ lhughes_06 OH MY GOD SIDNEY CROSBY???

→ jackhughes this isn’t fair

→ vivianliu HI SIDNEY

rutgermcgroarty 🥴

→ yourusername 🤭

→ lhughes_06 i can’t tell if you’re flirting because you’re best friends or if you’re flirting to fuck

→ rutgermcgroarty whaaaaa i would never do such a thing and you know that luke (my door is open yourusername)

→ yourusername we’re flirting AS A JOKE because you’re gone now and you can’t dictate shit anymore 🙄 lhughes_06

username45 LMFAO did ethan ask everyone to say shit to cover his comment

mackie.samo i see you’re working out without me now 🤨

→ yourusername YOU LEFT ME. what was i supposed to do 😔😔

→ mackie.samo YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON

→ yourusername IM HAPPIER NOW 🤬

→ markestapa what is this 😟

adamfantilli woha

→ adamfantilli owah

→ adamfantilli woah

→ yourusername are you malfunctioning

→ adamfantilli yes (i was told to)

jackhughes did you redecorate your room??

→ yourusername yes my man helped me redecorate 🥰

→ jackhughes YOUR MAN????

→ lhughes_06 WHO THE HELL

→ yourusername guys it was a joke..

→ lhughes_06 your life is a joke

→ yourusername ?!???!????!

_quinnhughes i know who it is.

→ yourusername no u dont

→ lhughes_06 TELL ME

→ jackhughes WHO IS IT

→ trevorzegras congrats to the only hughes brother with a brain 🥳

→ jackhughes HEY

→ lhughes_06 NOT COOL TREVOR

→ rutgermcgroarty the fact that it took you this long is concerning

→ markestapa okay she ACTUALLY told you rutgermcgroarty

→ dylanduke25 fr the rest of us had to find out DIFFERENTLY

→ edwards.73 you guys are kinda slow

username55 i know someones gonna come back for this post tn…

→ username97 LMFAOOO

→ username21 STOP DONT EXPOSE HIM LIKE THAT

username38 UR SO PRETTY

username30 GIRLLLL give us the workout routine please 😞🙏

username88 body goals hello????

trevorzegras ur bed was not in that corner last time i was there

→ yourusername i redecorated we already said so 🙄

→ jackhughes since when were you in my sister’s apartment??

→ trevorzegras i was in town for a game

→ jackhughes but detroit is 45 mins away????

→ trevorzegras WE WERE THERE FOR THREE DAYS

→ yourusername jack he was helping me set up my ikea dresser 😭😭

→ vivianliu i know someone’s absolutely LIVID

dylanduke25 WOW SO PRETTY

→ yourusername THANK U DUKER

→ dylanduke25 YOU’RE WELCOME

username96 help i audibly screamed when i saw this post

yourusername

liked by markestapa, _alexturcotte, and 153,256 others

yourusername some of the guys invaded girls night at 12 in the morning and then literally kicked us out of my own room ⁉️⁉️

tagged: vivianliu, markestapa, g.brindley4, rutgermcgroarty, dylanduke25, luca.fantilli

view all comments

edwards.73 why was i not invited

→ yourusername u didn’t come idk i thought u were busy like always

→ edwards.73 but you know i would never be too busy for you

→ yourusername lmao doesnt really seem like it tho

vivianliu and they burnt our fucking cookies

→ yourusername FR almost burnt the apartment down 🙄

→ dylanduke25 THAT WASN’T EVEN US

→ vivianliu U KNOW DAMN WELL THAT WAS U AND RUT

→ rutgermcgroarty WHY ARE U BLAMING ME???

g.brindley4 oh my god i’m on the main

→ yourusername YOU’RE ON THE MAIN ‼️

username38 mark wearing sunglasses in a dark ass room 😭

dylanduke25 rut’s ass was in my face and i swear he fucking ripped ass like three times

→ yourusername HELLO WHAT??? I DONT REMEMBER THIS

→ rutgermcgroarty I LITERALLY DIDNT THO??

→ luca.fantilli i could smell that shit from the other room

→ g.brindley4 the absolute STENCH

username32 luca could not have been comfortable sleeping in that position 😭

→ username80 men are weird

username67 AHHH PINK COOKIES

luca.fantilli cuddling with the homies 🥴🥴

→ yourusername oh my god

→ markestapa 😘

→ dylanduke25 im blushing ☺️☺️

→ g.brindley4 best couple!

→ rutgermcgroarty 😝

→ vivianliu you’re all so weird

trevorzegras marky lookin kinda cute tn 🫣

→ yourusername STOP

→ markestapa yes i’ll go out with you!

mackie.samo um. i facetimed him and hes kicking, screaming and crying?!?!?

→ yourusername oops

→ mackie.samo yeah what a big fucking oops 🙄

→ vivianliu HES THE TOXIC ONE

username77 getting kicked out of your own room is crazy

username48 ethan’s definitely punching the air rn

_alexturcotte what happened to the boyfriend

→ yourusername technically he’s not my boyfriend cuz he doesn’t like labels!

→ colecaufield 😭😭

→ yourusername HIS WORDS NOT MINE

→ trevorzegras imagine what’ll happen when your brothers find out 😂

→ yourusername 1. for the love of god stop using that emoji and 2. they wont find out!

→ _quinnhughes i found out

→ yourusername besides you 😒😒

username79 ethan’s definitely regretting not putting a label on them

username92 do luke and jack never check the comments 😭😭

→ vivianliu they did but rosie gaslighted them into believing it’s not ethan and they barely pay attention to what the others say anyways

→ username60 LMAOOO

lhughes_06 WE NEVER HAD SLEEPOVERS WHEN I WAS THERE WHAT??

→ yourusername i’m the better sibling

→ vivianliu correct

→ rutgermcgroarty correct

→ edwards.73 correct

→ colecaufield correct

→ adamfantilli correct

→ trevorzegras correct

→ _alexturcotte correct

→ markestapa correct

→ luca.fantilli correct

→ mackie.samo correct

→ dylanduke25 correct

→ _quinnhughes not correct????

→ jackhughes INCORRECT TF

edwards.73 I CAN’T GET OVER THE FACT THAT YOU DIDN’T INVITE ME

→ yourusername IM SORRY I GEN THOUGHT U WERE JUST BUSY AGAIN

→ markestapa there’s no way you’re still on this

→ edwards.73 inv me next time 😔

next chapter notes ) happy april fools dayyy!! hope yall got some good pranks in 😈😈 and guys HE DOESN’T DO LABELS 😓

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood

#ethan edwards #ethan edwards fanfic #ethan edwards fic #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards x reader #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #trevor zegras #mackie samoskevich #mark estapa #dylan duke #rutger mcgroarty #luca fantilli #adam fantilli #cole caufield #alex turcotte

[sofipitch]

One big theme in the locked tomb is the importance of community, and especially with the framework of those with a disability. Harrow in HTN has two different worlds she is interacting with, one in which the people around her don't give a shit to help her at all, and in that world she dies. Then in the river bubble most everyone refuses to leave her on her own, thye chose to help her, many despite not knowing her. Compare Ianthe's speech to Harrow in the prologue, the way she frames it is Harrow will not survive if she doesn't accept her help, and that Ianthe specifically is the only one who can. Her speech intentionally or not implied that she sees Harrow as weak. Of course Harrow rejects her help. Whereas when Harrow is asking the others to not help her defeat the sleeper, many frame it as helping her is just being part of something they already wanted to do or that they benefit from (the ones that come immediately to mind being Abigail, Dulcie, and Marta). They help her but don't make her feel like she owes them anything for doing it. Which is the opposite of Ianthe, when Harrow makes her the bone arm, Harrow doesn't want anything in return but Ianthe explicitly states she doesn't want to owe her.

The same is true in Nona, Camilla, Palamedes, and Pyrrha don't really owe it to Harrow to keep her/her body safe. It's obviously a lot of work, the equivalent to raising a child, but Nona is never treated as a burden. And I hate to imagine what it would have been like for Nona had she been alone, she said she couldn't even remember to walk at first. And this is all over the series, Dulcie lovingly saying Palamedes invented the breathing tube for her. Camilla and Coronabeth caring for Judith when they were captured. Even in places that aren't tied to disability, a necromancer and cavalier HAD to work together to complete the challenges. The way both of the Palamedes' detective short stories depend on the help another person lends him. It means so much for a story featuring characters with a disability to emphasize that it is okay to need other people, that we all do or will. That you don't need to push yourself to extremes to keep up (Harrow has this mindset in both books and in both she succeeds the most with the help of others, not alone).

To go even further, it isn't just about helping one another, but the importance of not keeping a score. Don't think you have to make up an equivalent amount of help to someone else. One of the things Gideon emphasizes as the most hurtful in Harrow's rejection is the rejection of her help. Palamedes says that he feels bad for using Camilla for his agenda and she answers that it was never his agenda. Him needing her body was something Camilla would never think twice about giving. They would do these things because they love them. This is just me repeating themes but I'm so used to the Western independent mindset, and disability porn of "if you just try hard enough" this series is a breath of fresh air

#tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth

[hamliet]

Hazbin Hotel Has Better Theology Than Most Modern "Christian" Stories

As a Christian who was raised in a fundie cult and escaped to now have a far healthier and vital faith, I genuinely really like this show. The songs are bops. The characters are well crafted and interesting, and likable too. The art design is bizarre but appealing.

And, as a theology nerd who studied theology as part leaving said cult and also has since gotten papers published in theology, I'm actually fairly impressed by the show's handling of theology.

No, I'm not expecting the story to preach or even like, be explicitly Christian in a lot of ways. But it's taking a lot of the really beautiful aspects of Christian theology and re-contextualizing them in a way designed to provoke thought: by juxtaposing them with the antithesis of what you would think, by making demons heroes. In my opinion, this makes the beauty shine brighter.

Yeah, yeah, it's designed to be offensive and obscene in a lot of ways. Yet, it's never (thus far) mean-spirited. On the contrary, it seems to have a big, beating heart at its core that is perhaps best embodied by Charlie Morningstar, its protagonist and the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.

Critique of the Church, with Caveats

The story works best with an interpretation that heaven isn't actually heaven or God (who has been conspicuously absent), but instead as a critique of the church. Specifically, the evangelical American church, and specifically, white evangelicals. (Same as She-Ra's premise, actually).

God's absence therefore makes sense, because while Christians do believe God is present as a living reality among us, we also can't like, see him physically now. So, God being not even mentioned in HH makes it seem more like a mortal reality rather than an immortal one. Honestly I kinda hope God doesn't appear in the story, not only because I think it could cross some lines (which is admittedly personal), but also because I don't see that the story really needs it.

Adam in particular reminds me of every "theobro" on Twitter (I'm not calling it what you want me to, El*n). Basically a dudebro coopting his supposed salvation to flex in an often misogynistic way, who doesn't realize that he has absolutely no love in him and therefore is actually a worse human being than everyone he condemns on the regular.

(Which is kind of why I'm expecting Adam to wake up in hell next season...)

Think red hats. And Mark Driscoll. And, I have a list of pastors. Sigh. They advocate for how "simple" Christianity is, except they themselves make it ridiculously complicated and don't even examine what they suppose is "simple" if it requires them to take the planks out of their own eyes. "Shallow" is a better description of what they actually preach.

But what sends people to hell or heaven anyways?

Eschatology and Atonement Theory

Hazbin Hotel combines a lot of theories, throwing not only the idea of a physical hell (albeit mixed with Dante's idea of what hell is the Inferno, but to be fair a lot of the church has adopted that idea too) but the idea of annihilation, which HH calls "extermination."

See, in Christianity, there's a lot of debate about hell. Like, since 2000 years ago. The reason is because a lot of Bible verses seem to indicate hell, but others indicate the eventual redemption and salvation of absolutely everything in the universe, so you have Christian universalism tracing itself back just as long. But, setting aside universalism, people who do believe in hell tend to fall into one of two camps:

Physical hell, aka suffering for eternity, or annihilation: the idea that souls that aren't saved end up annihilated, or snuffed from existence. HH combines both of them, wherein everyone lives in hell but then every so often heaven "exterminates" a certain number of sinners.

And then you also have Catholic purgatory, which is also adapted in HH in that... for most Christians, physical hell doesn't offer the ability to redeem yourself. Chance over, you're dead. But, Catholic Christianity, which draws on ideas of praying for the dead, has the idea that people can improve themselves or be prayed out of it and into heaven. This seems to be somewhat similar to the idea of Charlie's hotel, in that sinners can improve, redeem themselves, and rise to heaven.

And, I mean, it's already kinda worked. Sir Pentious acted out Jesus' words: Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13).

But anyways, the branch of theology that deals with the afterlife is eschatology. And Hazbin Hotel takes on a related form of theology as well, a type of theology I've only seen covered in stories once before (The House in Fata Morgana): atonement theory.

Atonement theory is something I remember well from my theology 101 class, as in I remember sitting with a friend and her turning to me and being like, "okay, so we know Jesus' death and resurrection give us eternal life, but we have no idea how or why?" To which the answer was "basically, yeah."

Most of the white, American evangelical church is very "penal substitutionary atonement," but the reality is that this theory has only been popular for the past few hundred years. It's also, imo, somewhat scripturally unsound. But there are a lot of other theories, and sometimes the theories overlap. Here's a fairly decent summary. (I'm in general a believer in Christus Victor.)

So how does atonement theory tie into Hazbin Hotel? Well, essentially the scene where Charlie and Vaggie are debating with Emily, Sera, Adam, Lute, and others in heaven is them going over various atonement theories and realizing that they actually know nothing at all. How does one get to heaven? How is one saved? They don't know.

Sera criticizing Emily for asking questions was also very relatable, and I feel for Sera. She's genuinely scared but the truth will set you free, Sera. John 8:32. Anyways, the point is like... the angels are an organized religion, an evangelical church, that preaches about simplicity but mistakes shallowness for simplicity and discourages depth and discovery.

Anyways, the whole crux of theological study and atonement theories is that they should promote humility. We don't know for certain on this side of the curtain. That's okay. So what do we have to guide us?

Love. After all, God is love (1 John 4:8).

Charlie is Jesus

"Why would you endanger your immortal life for these sinners?" 

Adam, the absolute worst, says the above to Charlie in the finale.

I mean... look. That's literally the premise of Christianity. That the immortal son of God comes down to earth, lives with sinners, loves us, and dies to save us. However that happens. Charlie even responds:

"They're my family!"

In other words, she loves them. Yeah, sure, they're destined for extermination, but they are going to be exterminated over her dead body.

In a lot of branches of Christianity, and even in some creeds--though I'm going to give into my pet peeves here and state that it is NOT Scriptural and relies on the faulty assumption that God is bound by time, when I think God exists outside of it--state that Jesus descended into hell after his death and took all the souls of people who were saved prior to his coming to earth to heaven. Again, I think that's small-minded at best. But, the idea that Charlie is working among them to bring them to heaven is pretty reminiscent of this idea. And I don't hate it lol.

Charlie sees worth inherent in everyone, and no matter what they've done, thinks there's a future for them. Honestly we need people like her on this earth.

Angel Dust

Angel Dust is clearly my favorite character. Bite back your shock, I know (I have a type). But his name is also a fascinating multi-layered pun.

Angel is clearly foreshadowing his endgame. Let's be real, we all know Angel is ending up as an angel. And "angeldust" is of course a name for PCP, and considering Angel's drug habits, yeah.

But, dust also has another meaning to it. See, when Adam was created in Genesis 2:7, the words in Hebrew are "apar min ha'adamah," which is translated literally as "dust of the ground." So the dust is what creates Adam, literally "ground."

In other words, I very much expect Angel Dust to end up being foiled with Adam even more so. Adam might be the first man, but Angel is the first sinner working towards redemption. And let's be real, for all Angel's flaws, he's already a better person than Adam. And if there's any hope for Adam (not that I particularly care if there is but) it'd be through realizing that he and Angel aren't actually different after all. Conversely (and not necessarily mutually exclusively), Angel might serve as a more symbolic "adam" in that he becomes the person all sinners look to for hope. Which, y'know, since "the last Adam" is also a Scriptural term for Jesus...

And so it is written, “The first man Adam became a living being.” The last Adam became a life-giving spirit. (1 Corinthians 15:45).

I fully expect Angel's arc, alongside Charlie's, to bring life and redemption for everyone around them. Maybe, maybe even the dramatic "all" of Colossians 1:20 (which means, literally, all, everything, everywhere, in the entire universe).

Closing Thoughts

But honestly, regardless of how the story ends--besides that it will presumably end happily because HH is at its core feel-good despite being profane--season one at least has got good theology. Why? Because it's digging into the questions that theology is concerned with. It's digging into the ideas of human nature, of what it means to be a good person, of what it means to redeem oneself, of affirming how precious each individual human soul is.

It doesn't offer cheap answers, and it specifically calls out the white American evangelical church for how it purports to be simple but actually just confuses people and punishes them for things they can't help, that creates more stumbling blocks than it does shine a light. And it does it in a way that is scandalous. Offensive to many religious people.

But, y'know, Jesus was pretty scandalous too.

So I really love the story so far because it emphasizes what I find so beautiful about my religion, and criticizes the parts that have also hurt me. I don't think it's remotely aiming to be a Christian allegory or anything like that, and I don't at all think anyone has to be religious to enjoy it or gain the core message of it, but I do think that it's doing a hell of a lot more good in the world message-wise than most evangelical movies of the past 30 years.

#hazbin hotel #hamliet reviews #theology #christianity #charlie morningstar #jesus #angel dust #angel hazbin hotel

[inkskinned]

i had a dream last night that you apologized. it was for real this time. my hands shook while i read it; waiting for you to do the thing you always do - chewing on my lip, i was waiting for you to make it about you. waiting for the part where everything shifts and suddenly - again! - i'm taking care of you.

it's never really your fault, something is always "happening" for you. you always have an excuse. it's hard to explain because my heart is too gentle. i keep finding reasons to forgive your repeated actions. i keep saying well, you didn't have it easy or that was a hard time or maybe i just upset you enough for that reaction. i talk about how i was a troubled kid once. i talk about how people stuck by me when i went dark. i give you what i never got.

i texted my siblings about it: you ever remember something and then get mad about it all over again. and still, that little voice inside my head - did i not explain myself explicitly enough? am i being unfair? the boundary i drew had been communicated, but what if i should have given more chances for you to get used to it?

i had a dream you finally saw things my way. that you said - i realized why you were hurting. i caused that. i'm sorry. i had a dream that i know i'm going to have to talk about in therapy.

you want to know the worst part? i would forgive you pretty much instantly. i would roll over and let you back into my life immediately. i would tell everyone that you've turned over a new leaf. i would defend you like an attorney. i'd say how you've been working hard and finally apologized to me. i'd tell them all that the bare-minimum from you was finally showing.

that's all it would take. a single, real i'm sorry. and it's knowing that you can't do it. it's knowing you will never, ever take responsibility.

#warm up #i wanted to write this different #but got distracted by my actual job #writeblr #ppl finding out i actually work a 9-5:30 fulltime job: #wait what the fuck but ur. always . like. posting #me: haha :) yeah

[soupthatistohot]

BSD 109 Spoilers!!!

I will always always ALWAYS come back to this panel when talking about Asagiri’s storytelling.

At its very core, BSD is an absurdist text, Kafka Asagiri having been inspired by many absurdist authors. Franz Kafka, who he took his pseudonym from is one of them. Albert Camus, basically the most well-known absurdist is referenced with the Mersault prison, the name of which comes from a character in his most famous absurdist work, The Stranger. 

Absurdism is the belief that the world around us is irrational and inherently absurd and that explicitly seeking meaning is pointless. In his essay The Myth of Sisyphus, Camus explains, that there is value in the act of rebellion, though. Sisyphus, who has been doomed to roll a boulder up a mountain only for the boulder to tumble back down each time he reaches the peak, finds meaning in the act of continuing to push the boulder. Even though he will continue this cycle for all of eternity, he doesn’t just lay down and give up, he rebels against the absurdity of his situation by continuing to push the boulder, despite the seemingly futile nature of the act. 

As I said earlier, BSD is an absurdist text. All of the animanga’s main characters are on a journey of discovering their meaning in life, and their place in the world, and they do this by rebelling against its absurdity — especially Dazai. 

Dazai sees the absurd world for what it is, and when he was in the PM, he hated it. Thus, he sought suicide as a solution. I will note here that absurdists generally view suicide as a failure to rebel against the absurd, just giving up and giving into hopelessness. But ever since Dazai left the PM and took Oda’s advice, he’s been rebelling against this, doing good despite his inherent beliefs about morality and the world, and he’s absolutely gotten better for it. 

Other characters embody this idea of rebelling against the absurd, hell, that’s kinda what this whole arc is about. The world is literally ending, and things seem to be at their absolute worst, but someone like Atsushi still has hope that he can change the minds of the hunting dogs and save reality as we know it. He even has hope that he can get through to a vampiric Akutagawa when the guy is literally brainwashed and attacking him. Aya as the “last hope” right now embodies this, too, deciding that she can’t just sit around and do nothing and then trying to remove the sword from Bram even though the effort appears futile. 

But everything is going wrong right now. Fukuzawa is bleeding out, Dazai has just been shot through the forehead and appears to have died, Atsushi’s had his limbs ripped off and is at Akutagawa’s mercy, and Fukuchi is literally going to end the world! How can we have hope?!

Think about BSD. Think about the story that’s been told so far. Surely Asagiri isn’t killing everyone right now, surely the world isn’t gonna actually end. I’m not entirely convinced Aya’s plan is gonna work— but please consider that the point of absurdist storytelling is that even when everything seems to be at its worst, even when life seems completely meaningless, there is inherent meaning in still continuing to fight against this. 

BSD has never been a story where the villains win, and I don’t think it’s gonna start being one. I think, as usual, Asagiri wants to scare us, to make us feel hopeless about the situation, only for someone to pull through and completely turn the tides.

Dazai laying down and accepting his death at Chuuya’s hands is not going to be the end of his story, because it goes against everything Asagiri seems to stand for. Dazai wouldn’t just give up in his fight against Fyodor, because he needs to prove he’s right about what he says in this panel:

"The ones who actually make the world turn are those who scream within the storm of uncertainty and run with flowing blood."

I think this reflects Asagiri's own beliefs and is also the reason why he is not going to let Dazai die like this, because in a way, that would be proving that Fyodor is right. From a storytelling perspective, it’d be saying “everything I’ve communicated up to this point actually means nothing and life is truly hopeless!” 

Dazai has cheated death before, as has basically everyone else in danger right now. I promise you, something is going to happen and they’re all going to survive, because BSD is not trauma porn, for lack of a better term. It’s a story about how a group of people fight against the absurdity of their reality, even when everything seems completely and utterly hopeless. 

There’s a lot of theories circulating about how things could work out, especially Dazai’s “death,” and I’m not here to repeat all of them, but I will say that a lot of them have credence, especially because Asagiri isn’t the type of author to make mistakes, every single detail has a distinct reason. 

So even though I don't know how things are going to work out, I have full faith that they will, including Dazai's current situation. None of these characters are done just yet, they've got too much fight left in them to just give up.

[original twt thread]

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd 109 #bsd spoilers #bsd manga spoilers #bsd meta #kafka asagiri #asagiri kafka #soup rants #being a hashtag camus girlie has its merits!!! #bsd absurdism analysis

[stylesloveclub]

Pleasing (grumpy h blurb)

In which Harry's acting kinda grumpy, and y/n helps him... destress. :)

+++

Harry’s hand slams onto his phone, muting the blaring chimes of his 6 AM alarm. His head hurts and his eyes are heavy, and the thought of having to get out of bed, get dressed, and go to a business meeting when it’s still dark outside makes his feel physically ill. 

He’s tired… beyond tired. Last night had been another one of his annual “In-Chef nights.” He’d been up on his feet, cooking meal after meal from 6 PM all the way until midnight, and had then spent an additional two hours with his staff cleaning up. He’d driven home in the cold rain, and didn’t even have enough energy to change into his pajamas when he got home. He just stripped down to his briefs, and collapsed into his bed.

 Running on barely four hours of sleep, he’s feeling cranky and miserable and irritable. The sound of his alarm has been nagging at him through three snooze cycles, and he knows if he stays in bed any longer, he’s going to be running late. 

He forces himself to blink his eyes open. He feels gross and sluggish, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, and letting out a loud groan. The early morning meeting he has today isn’t even one that he’s excited for… he hates the constructors that are helping him open a new Pleasing location in New York. They’re bad communicators, and always make mistakes in the plans that they’ve made. Harry’s a very particular man, he’s picky about the way his food is cooked, a neat freak in his home, and has an organized schedule that he never strays from. So working with these incompetent people, who somehow always manage to royally fuck something up… god it really gets Harry frustrated. 

He yanks the blanket off of himself and swings his legs over the side of the bed. His feet meet the floor, and it’s ice cold. Great. 

This is just fucking great. 

+++

“Jesus fucking christ.” 

Harry takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes to calm himself. It doesn’t work. His nostrils are flaring and his eyes have turned a dark, angry shade of green. “I fuckin’ said last week that I wanted gas stoves. So why is there an order for six electric stove tops?”

Ian, the contractor, fumbles in front of Mr. Styles, cheeks turning red. “Uh-um, t-the installation of the electric stoves was cheaper.”

“What did I explicitly ask for,” Harry seethes.

“Err– t-the gas–”

“So what in your right mind made you think that I’d be okay with this?”

“I– well, sir, we just wanted to go with the option that was more affordable–”

“Do you think I give a fuck which one is cheaper?” Harry yells. “For fuck’s sake, I’m running a multi-million business!” He slams the papers he’d been holding onto the desk in front of him and stands up angrily, his chair scratching loudly against the hardwood floors. “Get this fixed, today,” he says before storming out of the conference room and slamming the door behind him. 

He locks himself into his office, and sits in his chair, rubbing his red-veined eyes. He’s too tired to have to deal with all this shit today. How hard is it for people to follow instructions? His life would be so much easier if everyone else didn’t fuck up so much. 

He sits there for a few minutes with his head in his hands, fingers still rubbing at his eyes to try and soothe away the burning feeling he feels every time he opens them. His head is starting to hurt, a pounding migraine so intense that he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, and his stomach hurts. All he had to eat today was a black coffee before he went into that horrific meeting five hours ago. 

Yes, the one hour meeting they had planned had ended up taking five hours instead. He literally had to clear his schedule to fix all the fucking mistakes that they were making. They’d chosen the wrong tiles for the floor, ordered the wrong stove tops for the kitchen, and had designed all of the countertops to be one inch too low… it literally pained him to be working with such incompetent designers. 

And now he was behind on his work. 

He lets out a tired sigh and turns on his desktop, opening his emails. The bright screen makes his eyes sting, and he has to squint to read the tiny word on the screen. He scrambles around in his drawers and finds his reading glasses, but still, the words blur together and make his head hurt. He bares with the pain, and spends an hour or so responding to emails and filling out paperwork, until there’s a knock at his door. 

“What is it?” he calls out a bit snappily, not looking up from his paperwork. 

He hears the door jiggle, trying to open but struggling against the lock. “It’s me, Mr. Styles!” 

Immediately, he puts his pen down and unlocks the door for his sweet y/n to come in. She’s holding a plate of food for him, and looks up at him with her pretty smile, cheeks warm and dimpled with kindness. 

“Hey puppy,” he murmurs, surprised. She hadn’t come in for the majority of this week because she had finals. In fact, she just had her physics final just this morning. 

“Hi!” she says enthusiastically, entering his office. “Teddy told me that you’ve been here since 8, n’that you haven’t eaten anything all day.” She looks up at him with her adorable bambi eyes, “How come you’re allowed to scold me for not eating enough at work when you’re skipping meals too?” 

He smiles lightly, “you’re right puppy, that’s hypocritical of me.” 

“Very hypocritical,” she nods resolutely. “So, I brought you some food! I had Teddy make it, ‘cos I know he’s your favorite.”

His stomach growls at the sight of the fettuccini alfredo in front of him. He’s starving but he’d been way too caught up in his work to think about getting up to get himself any food. “Thank you,” he says, taking the plate from her and picking up her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. 

“It smells yummy, so I want some too,” she says, sitting down on the chair behind his desk. “But we gotta eat it quick, ‘cos I’m supposed to get back out there in five minutes.” 

“Thought you weren’t meant to come in today?” he says, sitting down next to her. 

“I wasn’t scheduled,” she says, shoving a forkful of the pasta into her mouth, “but then Grace texted me asking if I could cover for her. She got the flu.” 

Harry hums, grabbing a tissue from his desk, and wipes off the little bit of white sauce clinging onto y/n’s lips, her mouth full of deliciously creamy and garlicky pasta. “How were your exams?”

She rolls her eyes. “Ugh. Don’t talk about it. So hard, but everyone else said it was super hard too, so hopefully there’s a fat curve.” She claps her hands excitedly, “But at least I’m done! No more school for the rest of the month!!!” 

Despite his initial grumpy mood, he can’t help the smile that graces his face. His girlfriend is literally the cutest thing in the world, especially when she gets all giddy and excited like this. She’d been really stressed out and MIA all week because of her exams, so it’s refreshing to see his lively and happy y/n again. 

“So proud of you puppy,” he says, cupping her cheek and giving her a kiss. 

She twirls a forkful of pasta for Harry and feeds it to him. “Are we gonna hang out tonight?” she asks. 

“Of course. Need t’cuddle tonight, you’ve been so busy I feel neglected.” Just sitting with y/n for a few minutes has already calmed Harry down, the stress in his body fizzling away. 

She giggles cutely. “Okay baby. We can spend alllll night together.” 

+++

The ache in his stomach fades away after finishing the pasta that y/n brought for him, and after popping an advil, he feels his headache start to slowly go away as well. He’d gotten an email that the electric stove tops had been returned and that an order for the gas ones had been put in, so he’s feeling more relaxed about that as well.

He lounges around in his office until y/n is done with her shift, and they sneak out the back exit to head home together. He’s got a one hand feel on the steering wheel, the other on her thigh, and he’s feeling much better than he was this morning when he’d been all grumpy and stressed out. 

When they get to a stop light, his phone rings. He thinks nothing of it when he picks up, not even looking at the caller id. “Hello?” he answers casually.

“Er– Hi, Mr. Styles.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. It’s Ian on the phone. “What’s going on?” he says tersely.

“Um… so we figured out the stove issue, which is great…” 

The light turns green. “Okay…?” Harry says, slightly annoyed.

“So… well– the stove company said that the shipment is gonna take a few weeks, which is gonna put the construction schedule behind since we can’t install the countertops until we put the stoves in, which means…” Harry sighs in disappointment, already knowing what’s coming. “Well, it means that the restaurant might not be ready for the opening date that we’d set.” 

“Ian,” Harry’s knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel, and he’s using every cell in his body to keep his voice steady so that he doesn’t start yelling in front of y/n. “When I signed that contract with you, didn’t we agree it would be done in three months?”

“I– yes, it’s really unfortunate–” Ian stammers, but Harry cuts him off.

“I don’t want to hear fuckin’ excuses,” Harry bites. “We signed a contract.”

“Sir, I don’t know what to tell you,” Ian says casually.

“How about we start with the fact that this issue could’ve been completely avoided had you simply followed the plan that we had agreed upon?” Harry’s voice is steadily rising, an angry fire to his tone. “Or how much money you’ve already cost me from all the mistakes you’ve made? I signed a contract and I expect the deadline to be met. It’s far too late to push back the opening of the restaurant.” 

“It’s out of my control–” Ian tries to explain, but Harry won’t hear it.

“Jesus christ, do I need to do everything for you?” Harry bursts. “Call the company and tell them the delivery is for Harry Styles! Figure it out with the investors, pay them extra! We will not be pushing the date back, not when we’ve already invested so much into it.” Harry hangs up the phone angrily and throws it into his lap. “Fucking hell,” he breathes angrily. 

Y/n sits next to him quietly, her eyes wide. “Everything okay?” she asks timidly.

“S’fine,” he bristles tersely, pulling into his parking spot. He puts the car in park and gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him with such aggression that y/n winces for the car. 

Scrambling behind him like a little puppy, she follows him into his penthouse. There’s an angry furrow in his brow as they ride up the elevator, and his lips are pressed together in a frustrated line as he types out a message on his phone. He storms into the kitchen without even glancing at y/n, and pours himself a glass of ice cold water to maybe help himself calm down. 

Y/n stands shyly behind the kitchen counter, not saying anything but watching him quietly.

“Just a second, puppy,” he says, his tone impatient and clipped, pushing past her to head into his home office. He dials the number of one of his restaurant’s business partners on the phone, and spends nearly half an hour figuring out what they were going to do. 

“I want a new fuckin’ contractor,” Harry rants.

His partner. Niall, gives out a hearty laugh, “I know mate, but don’t worry. I’ll figure it out for ya. I know the guys over there, I’ll give ‘em a ring and see if they can get your appliances sent over any quicker.”

“Thank you,” he mutters gratefully. Finally, there was someone who knew how to get shit done. He hangs up the phone and runs his fingers through his hair frustratedly. His headache is back and his neck and shoulders hurt from being so tense.

Y/n knocks on his office door, and he sighs heavily. “Not now, puppy, v’got to send some emails.”

She steps in, despite the fact that he’s dismissed her, with sad eyes and a pout on her lips. “If this is how it’s gonna be all night then… I’m just gonna go home.” 

His eyes snap up. “What?” 

“You’re working and being all… grumpy,” she says quietly. “So I’m gonna get an uber.”

“Y/n, don’t be like that.” He looks at her with an exasperated look. “Something important came up, v’got to deal with it.” 

“I’m not trying to be like anything,” she shrugs. “You’re stressed out and you don’t wanna talk, so I feel like I’m just annoying you by being here.”

“Baby…” he sighs, rolling away from his desk and getting up to go stand in front of her. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest in a shy, almost protective manner, and she has her bag hanging off of her shoulder, fully prepared to leave. Standing in front of her, he can see the sadness in her eyes. “Don’t go, m’sorry.” 

“I know you’re upset…” she whispers, looking down at the floor, “but that doesn’t give you the right to be snappy with me. It hurts my feelings.” 

Oh, his precious girl, so sweet and sensitive. His heart breaks a little bit, knowing that he’d made her sad… he’d been so caught up in his own stress that he’d neglected her feelings. He knows that she was probably so excited to come over after having finished all her exams… and he knows that she’s sensitive. She gets teary eyed whenever someone uses a stern voice with her, cries for days if she ever gets yelled at. Of course it would hurt her when he pushes her aside and snaps at her to leave him alone.

He pulls her into his chest, “Sweetheart, you’re right, m’sorry. I shouldn’t be takin’ it out on you, you’ve done nothing but been sweet t’me all day.” She’d brought food for him when he was hungry, was cheerful and lovely on the car ride home, and had tried to talk to him when he was upset… only to get pushed away at the end of the night.

“I wanna stay, but not if you’re gonna be mean,” she says into his chest.

He presses a kiss to her hair, “no, m’done puppy. Not gonna be mean, promise. Please, stay?” 

She looks up at him and smiles softly. “Okay,” she puckers her lips and leans up for a quick kiss. “Thank you.” 

He smooths his hand over her hair, and rests his head atop her cheek, still hugging her close. She’s warm and smells sweet… holding her in his arms is all he wants to do for the rest of his life.

“How about I go take a shower while you send your emails, and then we can go to bed?” she suggests, pulling away.

He shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. No more emails tonight, I can send them in the morning.” It’s late at night anyways, it wouldn’t make a difference if he sent them now or tomorrow. 

“M’getting in that shower with you.”

+++

In the shower, y/n washes away all of Harry’s stress and worries. She lathers up the loofah with the rose scented body wash that she keeps in his shower, and rubbed it all over his chest and back and biceps. She even went so far as to lift his arms above his head and scrub his armpits for him, making Harry cackle at how silly she was.

Then, she took his yummy smelling shampoo and had him bend down so that she could wash his hair for him. She threaded her fingers through his hair and scratched at his scalp deliciously, scrubbing his hair as though he were getting spoiled at the salon. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the foamy shampoo dripped down his forehead, but she always made sure to rinse the bubbles away before they got into his eyes. 

They got out and dried themselves together, standing in front of Harry’s heater in their towels for a few minutes while y/n brushed her hair. He changed himself into only a pair of boxers, while y/n opted to skip on undergarments (it’s very important to let ur pussy breathe!!!), putting on only a pair of thin sleep shorts and one of Harry’s huge t-shirts. 

“M’gonna give you a massage,” she tells Harry once they’re both changed, shoving him onto the bed. He chuckles to himself at her weak attempt to manhandle him, but complies easily, settling onto his stomach so that she could straddle his back. She squirts some lotion onto her hands and warms it up between her palms, then rubs it smoothly onto Harry’s broad and muscular back.

“Mm, thank you baby,” he groans. “So good t’me.” 

It’s all innocent at first – y/n knows that Harry was stressed out and probably super tense, so she thought giving him a nice massage to work out the knots in his shoulders would be nice. But, of course, with Harry shirtless underneath her, it’s hard for her thoughts to stay completely pure. 

Harry’s so strong and muscled… it’s so hot. He feels firm underneath her hands, her palms smoothing over the ridges and curves of the muscles in his toned back. His shoulders are broad and his biceps look huge, even without being flexed or anything. The skin of his back is warm and smooth… so soft and tan. Her mouth waters as she rubs her hands up and down his back.

Her fingers find his shoulders and she kneads them deeply, which makes Harry let out a loud groan. His shoulders are particularly tense, and her little fingers are rubbing the tight knots in them so nicely. “Harder baby,” he grunts, and she obliges. Her thumbs dig deep into the meat of his shoulders and rub in slow, painful circles.

She uses all her strength to massage him. He’s so built, every inch of his back covered with hard muscles, that it takes a lot of energy to really get in there. She has to put her entire weight into her hands and press deep onto his back. Luckily, the lotion made it easy for her to glide over his skin and knead his sore muscles. The groans that he lets out tell her which spots to focus on. 

His eyes are shut, eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. It hurts so good. His cock has started to plump up a bit, twitching every time her delicate fingers knead a particularly painful knot in his back. She keeps rubbing him, digging her fingers into his muscles, and the pressure in his cock grows unbearable. 

He flips himself around, unable to deal with it any longer. Y/n gasps at his sudden movement, then finds herself short of breath when she settles herself back down on his lap and feels how hard he is underneath her. Straddling his hips in nothing but her little, thin pair of sleep shorts, she can feel him… feels the curve of his cock, restrained in his boxers, and feels the ridge of his tip nudging against her clit. She’s sure that he can probably feel her pussy too, feel every fold and the tiny bud of her clit.

He smirks up at her when her little pussy flutters around nothing, twitching so delicately against his clothed cock. Her center feels hot, keeping him warm while she sits prettily atop him. “Keep going baby…” he says, voice low and dangerous. “M’arms hurt so much, can you rub ‘em for me?” 

He pouts up at her, but it’s a mocking pout. He knows exactly what she’s thinking about, and it’s much more filthy than his innocent request for an arm massage. 

Nonetheless, she squirts some more lotion on her hands and brings them down to his strong biceps. He’d been to the gym yesterday for arms, so he wasn’t lying when he said they were sore. But also, that means they’re particularly pumped today, firm and delicious… y/n just wants to bite them. 

His hands rest on her hips while she rubs her palms up and down his arms, his thumbs tracing soft circles onto the skin of thigh where her shorts have ridden up. She looks like she’s intently focused on rubbing his arms, but really, she can’t stop thinking about the way his cock feels underneath her. He subtly grips her hips and presses her down harder onto the hard bulge in his pants, and lets out a strained breath through his nose. Y/n similarly feels her breath catch in her throat, her hands pausing momentarily as she flutters her eyes shut.

“Feels so good baby,” he murmurs when her hands migrate up to massage his chest, rubbing circles over his swallows and tracing over his butterfly delicately. It’s a not-so subtle innuendo to fuel the fire of the sexual tension burning between the two of them right now. 

The hands on her hips start to slide upwards, under her shirt to rest on her warm tummy. He can see the soft peaks of her nipples poking through the shirt she’s wearing. “Baby… show me y’pretty tits, please?” he begs. He slides his hands even higher until his fingers graze the undersides of her breasts. “Had such a long day, I deserve a treat don’ I?”

“Y-yeah,” she agrees softly, taking her shirt off and throwing it onto the floor. She’s left topless, her perky nipple peaking in the cold air of Harry’s bedroom, and her wet pussy pressed firmly to his hard cock.

She continues rubbing his chest with her tits out, and Harry takes it upon himself to do the same to her. He plays with her tits, holds them in his palms and rubs his thumbs over her hard nipples. Still, it’s not enough. 

“Come closer, baby,” he murmurs lowly, guiding her forward. She inches forward slowly, back arching while holding herself up with her arms, until her boobs are hanging in front of Harry’s face. 

He sticks his tongue out and leans up, attaching himself to her nipple and sucking it into his mouth gently. His tongue licks the soft bud gently, and he hums happily. “Mmm, baby, so nice to me,” he mutters, switching to her other nipple, “Lettin’ daddy play with your pretty tits ‘cos I had a long day.” Hand engulfs the breast that he’d just hand in his mouth, palming it gently while his tongue plays with the other. His teeth skim her soft skin gently, and he starts sucking. Each purse of his lip and pass of his tongue sends a shock straight down to y/n’s center, and she’s absolutely, totally drenched. Her heart is beating erratically in her chest, and she can’t help herself before grinding herself down. 

Since she’s lifted herself up to align her tits with Harry’s face, she’s no longer sitting on his bulge, but instead now sitting on the butterfly painted on his abdomen. She presses herself onto his abs, soothing the dull ache that comes each time he hums around her breast.

Her boobs are so plump and plushy, dangling in front of his mouth and covered in his spit. His hands grope her chest sensually, pushing her breasts into his face and letting himself indulge like a teenage boy. He lets them bounce on his face, skimming his lips against them then pulling himself back, teasing himself. He nudges his nose against them, and they jiggle prettily right in front of his face. God, he’s making himself so hard, playing with her tits like this, having them all up in his face. All he can see is her skin, the roundness of her breasts, the soft bud of her nipples. No matter which way he turns his head, he makes contact with her, her nipples skimming his cheeks or his lips dancing against her sideboob. 

“Jus-” she gasps when he takes her boob back between his lips and sucks, tongue curling around her nipple, “Jus’ wanna make you happy daddy.” 

“Doing so good baby, taking caring of me so well,” he murmurs, barely moving his lips from her skin before reattaching to her areola. “You know what would make daddy so happy?” 

“W-what?” she whimpers, pushing her clit down against his hard abs.

“If you got on my cock and got yourself off. Could you do that for me, puppy?” 

She nods eagerly and shuffles herself down, shoving Harry’s briefs down. His cock bounces up and slaps against his stomach, the tip completely slick with his own precum and arousal. She doesn’t even bother warming herself or Harry up – the massage and his little play session had gotten both of them 100% ready.

She doesn’t take her sleep shorts off, genuinely too excited to stuff herself full of his cock. Grabbing him by the shaft, she hovers right over his hips and slowly guides him into her dripping cunt. The slide in is easy, absolutely no resistance from how wet she is, and she’s able to bottom out on the first go. 

Her hands rest on his chest to support herself, and she starts to lift her hips, up and down, skin meeting skin with every drop down. Her nails dig into his flesh, and it hurts just as good as her massage had. She’s riding him like she never has before – usually she’s a bit of a princess, mostly grinding her clit down and rubbing herself on his cock slowly until her thighs start to burn and she whines for Harry to take over. 

Now though, with the way he’d teased her all nice, she’s bouncing on his cock properly, using all her strength to pull herself all the way up, then drop back down. She sets a messy pace for herself, but it doesn’t matter. He’s hitting all the right spots in her, and that’s all she care about. 

Harry lies on his back in bliss, her pussy absolute heaven around his cock. Her messy pace and high bounces have her tits jiggling, and Harry pushes himself up onto his elbows to get a better view. “Fuck, puppy, you’re an angel.” 

He brings a hand down to rub her at her clit, fingers rubbing tight circles as she grinds herself on him. “Gonna cum baby,” he groans, “Are you close?”

She whines out, and nods messily, eyes shut as she keeps herself going. 

Harry throws his head back, and shuts his eyes, rubbing her clit faster and faster until she’s cumming, clenching around his cock and squeezing him so tightly. His vision goes white his ears start to ring, and he’s in absolute heaven.

Y/n collapses onto his chest, and he spurts out long streaks of cum into her warm pussy, balls clenching with every release and his hips twitching upwards, trying to get as deep into her as he possibly can. She lays on top of him heavily, breathing hard with rosy cheeks and a glistening forehead from how hard she’d worked to get them both to their end. 

He pulls her up for a kiss. What had he even been stressed about, again? 

+++

HOPE U GUYS ENJOYED!!! SUB TO MY PATREON FOR MORE EXCLUSIVE PLEASINGRRY CONCEPTS AND EARLY ACCESS TO ANY AND ALL FICS!!!!

#harry smut #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry fic #harry writing #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #daddy harry #daddy!harry #daddy!harrystyles #harry styles daddy #dom harry #dom!harry

[sleepyangelkami]

so sorry you've been having a poor experience recently, i totally get it and i'm hoping to see you back in future, you're my favorite ellie author <3 sending love!

DON'T BE SHY e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.1K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - for as long as you've known, you'd always been shy, off put to any social setting. however, it's come the time in your relationship that you have to branch out and meet all the people ellie always talks about, shy or not.

 ☆ WARNINGS - pda, shy!reader, reader obviously has social anxiety though it's not explicitly said, mentions of dadish joel to ellie, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

if ellie had to describe you in one word, she'd have to go with the word 'flower'.

that's what you were. as delicate as they come. you would hum so softly and then turn pink when you'd been caught. you were always very much out of the way, making sure you were never deemed as overstaying your welcome or overstepping in any way really. and ellie on the other hand, she was nothing if not that large piece of grass in everyone's way.

you always told ellie that she was wrong.

she was well loved in jackson, whether or not she was inserting herself places that she did not belong. you didn't mind, in fact, you were right next to her, getting strung along the entire way. yet you never opened your mouth to complain.

because how could you? you'd be a fool to complain about anything while in the arms of ellie williams.

you and ellie's relationship was the most open yet private relationship in the entire town.

everyone knew you were dating, and i mean everyone. and yet, nobody knew anything that went on behind the closed doors of your home. that was partially your fault, always shying away and stating that you liked to keep things private for there was no reason for anyone to be in your business.

ellie would have stood on the tallest building of the entire town and yelled until her lungs went raw how much she loved you dearly, if you'd asked her to.

but she knew those kind of things didn't come easy to you.

when joel met you, he swore you were a mouse in disguise of a human. you stood sort of awkwardly, practically hiding behind ellie in any way that you could, fumbling with your hands and only speaking when it was damn near necessary. and when you did speak, the words came out quiet, sort of hushed.

"so, uh." joel cleared his throat, eyes scanning his own house as if to think of questions to ask you. his eyes landed on the desk that he kept the shotgun hidden in. "do you... work?"

he sounded unlike any parent you've ever heard before. he wasn't the type of parent to grill you, question what you do and how you do it, wonder if you can even do it right. he was simply making conversation.

and though you could see that there was no judgement in his eyes, you still felt yourself practically cowering away. "I garden." you mumble, caught by surprise when he questioned a louder "huh?" not hearing you behind your frail voice.

"she said she gardens." ellie spoke for you, giving joel a sort of look. "what? are you deaf?"

joel could only stare at ellie in bewilderment. there was no way she'd heard you so clearly? he couldn't hear you any more than he heard a flower sway on the grass.

joel soon learned to watch your lips as they move and strain his ears as hard as he could. it took a little getting used to but as he grew more comfortable around you and you doing the same, you too began making changes. you didn't hide behind ellie so much and you spoke at a normal volume. well, as normal as you could.

now, you sat stranded at the tipsy bison.

ellie liked to drink now and again which was why there sat a glass in front of her filled with whiskey. you sat at her side, fumbling with your fingers as she downed the glass without so much as flinching.

you always wondered how on earth she could do that.

you glanced away, soon finding the feeling of her fingers wrapping around yours. your head turned back to her, worry swirling in your eyes. "don't be shy." she spoke, practically cooing in your face. "they're really nice, i promise."

"okay." you breathed out though your nerves didn't calm. you really hoped ellie was right about these people.

"you'll be fine." she mumbled, pressing a kiss to your head. "my brave girl."

ellie had been with you for what felt like forever and yet you'd never had the courage to meet her friends, especially not the infamous dina and jesse that the whole town always fussed about. you were nervous, scared even and when ellie's hand came down on yours, you couldn't help but feel your face inevitably heat up.

the two came in not too long after that. and to your disbelief, they truly were all they were cranked up to be.

jesse joked a lot which made you much more comfortable and dina put him in his place when any joke got a little overboard which only made you feel all the more safe.

however, the feeling of ellie's hand sat on your upper thigh had your face and body feeling all tingly inside. you wondered if the others were judging you, you really hoped they weren't.

you were speaking, ellie's fingers dancing on your thigh making your words come out a little lower. "sorry, didn't catch that last part." dina spoke, her eyes sort of wide. you could tell she was listening and that she truly was interested.

as much as you tried, you couldn't stop the way your eyes flickered towards ellie. "gotta speak up, baby." giving your thigh a little squeeze. "they can't hear you."

you cleared your throat, face pink as you did what you were told, speaking up so they could hear you better.

ellie stayed by your side for the entire thing, fingers dancing around your thigh and hands gently tracing your waist. you knew how much the girl loved physical touch and she knew how much you loved it too. whether or not you were shy, it calmed you. sure, you were worried about pda and people seeing but there was much comfort in the way her hands danced around you, holding you close.

you waited until the two left to go get another drink from the bar before sighing, puffing out all the air from behind your cheeks.

all the nerves finally let loose as you realised it was all going according to plan. they liked you, or so it seemed and nobody had said anything mean. that's all you could have hoped for.

feeling the strain on your head from all your worrying, you found yourself pushing your face into ellie's chest, finally relaxing. "see? everything's fine. you did so good." her fingers moving towards your hair, petting you as if you were an animal.

"they're really nice." you spoke, trying to ignore your hot face from her praise.

"yeah." she nodded. "they are."

you turned your face up at her, giving her the smallest of smiles. her beautiful girl. "you should have let me meet them sooner." you joked.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

#queer #ellie williams angst #ellie #williams #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #lesbian #the last of us #tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie drabble #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #tlou x reader #tlou x y/n #ellie williams x y/n #tlou fluff #tlou angst #tlou imagine #tlou oneshot #gay #lgbtq

[multifandomlover01]

You Are My Sunshine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (in mind but it’s not explicit I don’t think)

Key: Y/N = Your (First) Name

WC: ~700

No warnings, this is pure fluff

Summary: End of 1x4; Spencer’s 24th birthday but Spencer talks to and goes on a date with reader instead of JJ (not explicitly anti-JJ, reader simply takes her place)

Ep: 1x4

GIF credit: shivlinagirl

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

Gideon began rummaging around in his bag.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer asked, interest piqued.

“I forgot to give it to you at the party.”

Gideon produced a medium sized rectangular package.

“But you don’t give birthday presents.” Spencer said as he slowly took the gift from him.

Gideon said nothing, only looking at Spencer expectantly.

Spencer opened the present, which he could already tell was a book. He was excited. He loved books. And Gideon never gave anyone a birthday present. His excitement turned very quickly to confusion as he completely removed the wrapping.

“I already have this book.” Spencer stated simply.

“I know.”

“Why would you give me a copy of a book you knew I already had?” Spencer’s confusion only grew.

“I didn’t.”

“But-“

“Look at the front cover.”

Spencer did so. He was greeted with: “Property of Doctor Spencer Reid” in big black letters that were in his own handwriting.

“Hey! This is my copy! How did you get this?”

“From your apartment. Sorry.”

“I’m an FBI agent, I think I would know if someone had been in my apartment.”

“So am I. And I think I would be able to make it look like I wasn’t there.”

“Touché. So why’d you get this from my apartment just to give it back to me?”

“Because it happens to be someone’s favorite book.”

“Not mine. While I do appreciate it greatly, there are many other works I prefer to this one.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Then who?” Spencer was confused again.

“The only person who doesn’t consistently interrupt you when you’re talking about things that everyone else interrupts you or just walks away from you for talking about.”

“Y/N?” He looked over his shoulder at you. You were too engrossed in a book to notice.

“Exactly. Go talk to her about it. You ever done that before?”

“Talk to her in general or about the book?”

Gideon chuckled.

“The book.”

“Right. Uh, no. I knew she liked to read as she does so often, but I never knew this was her favorite book.”

“Well now you do. Happy Birthday.”

Spencer smiled.

“What do I say?”

“You always seem to know what to say to her. You seem to be able to talk with her more easily than you can with anybody else.”

Spencer nodded before standing up. He turned to walk towards you. He stopped and turned back.

“How did you know?” Not how he talked to you so easily. Not how he knew what your favorite book was. But how he knew that Spencer liked you.

“How do I know anything?” Gideon shrugged.

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

Spencer sat in the seat across the aisle from you, book in hand. He cleared his throat, causing you to look up from my book and in his direction. You smiled.

“Hi.”

“Hi. So, um…Gideon told me that this was your favorite book.”

“Yeah, it is. We had a conversation about books a week or so ago. Did he offer up the information or did you ask?”

“He told me. Is that ok?”

“It’s got you over here talking to me. So, yes, it’s ok.”

“Do you actually like talking to me?” Spencer asked you, looking down at his hands.

“Of course I do.”

“It-it’s just that…no one else seems to.”

“I’d say that’s their loss.”

“You really think that?” Spencer asked, looking back up at you with a hopeful expression.

“Sure I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I find you a very enjoyable person to talk to.” You smiled at him genuinely.

“You don’t find me annoying?”

“No. I like to listen to you talk.”

“Well I guess you are the only one on the team who doesn’t interrupt me.”

“Yeah…I hate when people do that…it’s so rude.”

“Really? Is that why…is that why you sometimes ask me later on what I was talking about?”

You nod.

“So you’re really interested in what I have to say?”

“Yes. I am.” You chuckle as you smile, still baffled as to how he’s not getting it yet that you actually like him and his ramblings.

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