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[tumbleweedstillhaspanic]

[lokisgoodgirl]

Open Skies [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki's first time flying the Quinjet is a memorable one. Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Smut. Loki x Female Reader. Silly things. Mutual pining. Oral (M). (w/c 2.2k)

Tony dangled the key between his thumb and forefinger. The fob swung in front of Loki’s smirking face. “To Virginia, and back again,” Tony said. He was not in the mood for games. Loki’s eyebrows shot up. He pressed his fingers to his chest in mock-hurt before extending the cup of his palm out, fingers unfolding with a graceful flourish. “I need to learn, Stark..." he postured innocently. “The simulations only go so far. You know that.”

“And you’ll behave?” Loki rolled his eyes. “What egregious sin could I possibly commit with your garish vessel while under the watchful eye of our trustworthy Agent here?” he said, flicking a finger towards you. “Is that not why she has been chosen for this farce? To keep me in line? To make sure I don’t damage this metal substitute for masculinity?” Tony’s eyes darted in an aborted eye-roll. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, observing Loki with suspicion. “It should only take you twenty minutes- if that,” he said, tossing the fob in the air. The god caught it. Loki let you walk ahead up the ramp. The weight of his stare clung to your ass like wet paint as you made your way to the front of the craft and slid into the passenger seat. He paused, giving both headrests a squeeze as he observed the screens. You watched his profile stiffen, a swallow working his neck. For all his breezy pomposity, he was nervous. “Just like the simulator,” you said, “you’ll be fine.” Loki's face remained unchanged by your re-assurance. He cleared his throat, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater; the one with the Avengers logo that he swore the first time he saw it that he would never wear.

He manoeuvred himself into the driver’s seat. “Is he watching?” he asked quietly. You pressed the screen, making the rear camera pop up. Tony stood below the under-hang of the landing area, arms folded. “Right..." Loki said, lips pursing.

He ran his palms down the tight chinos creased to his thighs. One long finger tentatively pressed against the central screen.

In a matter of seconds, the Quinjet’s engines fired to life. Loki flinched. His fingers flexed before their length curled around the lever sitting between you. He pushed it into elevate. "Thirty-five-thousand feet..." Loki murmured to himself, pressing a series of buttons on the screen.

He reached up, pressing an intercom above his head.

"This is Loki Laufeyson, Avengers Unit, Stark Tower," he said, gazing out the huge window at the skyscrapers.

His voice made goose-bumps ripple on your skin. It massaged over the syllables like crude oil over glass, thick and utterly erotic in its uniform sincerity. “Lifting off - flightpath expected from New York City to above Richmond, Virginia. No target, no landing. Training exercise, thirty-five thousand feet. Copy?”

He released the button. Static hummed. Loki’s fingers readjusted around the lever. “Copy, Mr Laufeyson." the radio crackled. "Clear for take-off. Route mapped. Any changes, let us know.”

Loki let out a small, satisfied sigh. He shot you a weak smile. “Good?” he asked. You nodded. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, delicate strands falling around his face. It framed his cheekbones perfectly. “Try not to be too aroused by my piloting-skills, Agent,” Loki goaded, turning his attention to the thrusters. “I have been practising very hard to make it seem effortless.” He pressed several more buttons without a pause.

You and Loki had hooked up for several weeks just before his most recent mission. But whether it was clarity during the absence, or simply lack of interest; when he had come back no moves were made on either side. On your part, it was simple terror. Being with Loki in that way was unbelievable the first time that it had happened, never mind the seventh, eighth, ninth. Part of you didn’t want to push your luck. It had crossed your mind that he had actually forgotten. And if that was true, then you didn’t want to know.

The force of the ascent pushed you back into your seat, facing forwards. Out the corner of your eye you saw a grin stretch over the god’s face as the New York skyline became mere dots below. He yanked the lever a few more times into position, setting it in cruise. The beep of buttons and the hum of the engines were the only sounds. Ahead, there was nothing but open skies. “Well done, I’m very impressed,” you said with a smile, shifting to face him. The seatbelt dug into your shoulder. Without realising, you had set a hand to rest on his thigh. The two of you looked at it, eyes rising to meet. One of Loki’s brows cocked. “Agent?” he growled. “Are you trying to seduce the captain?”

You were about to deny it. But he was the god of lies, after all. In which case there was no getting around it. And even if there was – did you want to? “Yes.” you said. Loki barked a small laugh of disbelief, turning his eyes back to the wide windows. “It will take more than that, Agent.” he said, offering a small nod to the hand resting mid-way up his thigh. “Especially after giving me the cold-shoulder on my return.” Your stomach dropped. “I did no such thing-” you started, but Loki had begun to tut. It’s slow methodical click ticked over the air between you. His eyes never left the blue sky out the front of the Quinjet. “On the contrary. On my return, I came to your rooms. I left a note, and quite a suggestive one at that. I made myself quite vulnerable, actually.” You frowned. “Loki, I moved rooms like three weeks ago.” Loki pressed a finger to his forehead. “Who’s in your old one?” “Scott.” “Ah,” Loki said, grimacing. “I was wondering why he had been particularly familiar of late.” The god shot you a sheepish smile. “I may have gone into great detail about oral sex in my correspondence.” “Giving or Receiving?” “Receiving.” The two of your burst into raucous laughter.

Loki took his hands from the steering wheel, wiping a tear of mirth. “In defence of my uncouth written request, you do give the most glorious blowjobs,” he muttered, offering a tilt of his head. “And it was a very long mission. I was in desperate need of attention.” “Did you ever get it?” “No. Although in hindsight, Lang did attempt to ease my disposition.”

You and Loki exchanged a restrained smirk before bursting into laughter again. “I feel terrible,” you said, starting to feel giddy. “I thought you weren’t into me anymore, so I just…” “Gave up without a fight?” Loki said, pressing a button and shifting the stick. “Understandable. I am rather intimidating.”

Your hand began to dance up his thigh, following the rise of his insane quad muscle. You squeezed. The fingers slid inward, brushing the growing bulge in his crotch. Loki shifted in his seat, chinos rustling. “Agent…” he warned. But his eyes sparkled.

The god’s legs widened in the generous seat. Creases ran thick across his spread thighs, the outline of his cock stark against the light fabric. It stretched up to his hip by the side of the zipper. You bit your lip as he thrust gently into your cupped hand. “We shouldn’t…” you said, tracing the length of his cock with one light finger. “No,” Loki breathed. “But we will.” The click of your seatbelt and the resulting flurry of your fingers at his buttons was instant. Loki raised one arm to let you work, lowering the tight zipper and setting his cock free with a bounce into your waiting hand. “Fuck,” he choked through ragged breaths, “Agent you don’t have to-” You looked up at him, head pressed back against the rest and the veins in his throat tightening. He had that stoic, regal set upon his features, cheekbones hard and unwavering, mouth closed as he stared at your with hungry eyes. The only thing that gave him away was the sound of small puffs of air flaring in rapid succession from his nostrils. Without looking, you could tell his knuckles were white on the wheel. One of his forearms rested on the nape of your neck.

“If you don’t think I want to suck your cock, Laufeyson,” you whispered, pausing to place a kiss on the leaking tip, “then you’re even crazier than I thought.” Loki inhaled sharply as you swallowed him. The breath caught in his throat, forcing its way back through a series of stuttering breaks that made desire thrash deep in your cunt. Fingers wrapped around the base of him, you worked slowly back and forth until his manhood was slippery with spit. Your face lowered on to the bottom of Loki’s sweatshirt with every dip of your head. Sucking wet and hot as the vein that ran the length of his cock throbbed against your tongue. There it was, that sweet saltiness pearling at the cracked creases of your lips. God, how you’d missed that. The taste of him. There was nothing like it.

Loki’s placid moans filled the cockpit. It was polite, in a way. Gentlemanly, while his slender fingers grasped delicately against your hair. You lingered at the crown, running your tongue against the sensitive underside.

Loki jolted in his seat. The Quinjet took a dive, and you froze - cushioning his glory with your tongue as the god corrected the flightpath. He chuckled, hissing as you tightened the grip of the fingers around his root and began to pump in time with your mouth. “We’ve reached-uh...g-gods, Richmond,” he stammered. His fingers grasped at your hair, knees beginning to tremble. “I’m carrying out a soft turn, bringing us one hundred and sixty degrees before returning to the original..f..f-fuckk-flightpath.” Humming approval through a mouthful of his cock, you lost yourself in the warm musk of his public hair. The metal zipper caught against your chin, grazing with every deep dive of the god into your throat. But you didn’t care. Loki’s gentle whines were all you could hear over the engines, panting praises and murmurs of lustful promises that you would hold him to when this thing landed. If it landed.

“Gods-” Loki choked, punctuated with a thump as his skull fell against the headrest. "How can you do this to me, Agent?” he gasped, rubbing your back as you quickened the pace. “You’re the best…” he moaned, hips rising to meet the bob of your jaw, “you’re the b-best I’ve ever had..I- uhh...”

The god’s fingertips dragged down your back, fist clenching and unfurling. He let out a primal grumble. “I’m going to cum, darling-” he growled. “Has anything c-changed?” You shook your head, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth and pooling in a wet patch on his chinos. Swallowing all the spit you could, you pressed your lips tighter around his girth, sucking furiously. Loki flinched with pleasure; and although you couldn’t see him, you knew his eyes were rolling back. You’d bet a few more of those slutty little curls had come loose too. Loki’s bucks were quicker now. He was trying to be restrained, but still his hips shuddered against the seat trying not to fuck your mouth with all his might. The Quinjet thrashed to the side, immediately correcting.

The god’s breaths were heavy, unintelligible filth falling from his lips and slithering into your ear as you worked him. "Good girl," he gasped, palm flying to the window my his side, "oh, f-fuck yes...good girl-vakker... just like, u-uh-" His palm slid down the window with an obscene squeak.

With a curse-littered groan, both of his arms went flying up behind the headrest. He pulled it forwards, the force of his abdomen’s clench pressing against your forehead. Loki’s hot cum hit the back of your tongue, filling your mouth with the sweet tang you craved. It kept coming, spreading into every pocket of space not occupied by his meat. His groans of pleasure filled the cockpit while you swallowed - pretty little moans snaking from his throat as he rode higher than the clouds.

Your lips left the tip of his flushed member with a slurp. Loki looked at you, dazed and slut-drunk. His seed glistened at the corners of your mouth as you squeezed his cock from the base a final time. A thick ream of cum blossomed at the opening. With one finger, you scooped it off, placing it carefully on the tip of your tongue.

“How I’ve missed you,” Loki slurred before his mouth was on yours.

You could feel his tongue search your own, tasting himself on each caress, swallowing the mess that you had made of him. Breaking apart, you took a moment to appreciate just how fucked-out Loki looked. The god’s cheeks were flushed, his lips raw and pink from rough kisses; his tied-up hair was askew, one side falling down in inky tendrils across his shoulder. The sweatshirt was rumpled, and there was a spreading wet patch on those lovely cream chinos. “How long do we have?” you asked, realising that you probably didn’t look much better. Loki’s eyes flickered to the screen. “Three minutes.” he said, disappointed. As Loki nailed a perfect landing, you made a final check of yourself in the window’s reflection. His knuckles trailed gently down your bicep. “I’ll see you inside?” he asked quietly. His pupils were still bottomless pools. “At your rooms,” you smiled, fighting to contain a laugh. “Not Scott’s.” Loki nodded agreement, lips curling. “I really did wait, you know.” he said. “I know.” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. The two of you disembarked and Tony was waiting for the debrief exactly where you'd left him. He seemed happy with everything, by and large. But his arms remained folded. You began to make your way into the Tower. “Laufeyson. A word.” Tony barked. Loki rolled his eyes, subtly gesturing for you to go on ahead. “How’d you like her then? State of the art?” Stark hummed, gesturing to the Quinjet. Loki raised a brow. “It was perfectly fine.” Loki said. “Not ‘the best you’ve ever had’?” Tony slipped his sunglasses down his nose. Loki’s brow furrowed. “Cameras?” “Cameras,” Tony replied, tossing Loki the key-fob. “I’ll delete my evidence if you hop on back and delete your evidence with some of that magic-bleach. Deal?” “Deal.” Loki sighed.

Tags (cont in comments) @lokischambermaid @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @marygoddessofmischief @thevillainswhore @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @buttercupcookies-blog

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Well, Actually

Summary: Spencer gets frustrated as Reader proves him wrong about an unsub's profile.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff-ish

Content warnings: discussions of gender, sexy implications, Ernest Hemingway

Word count: 1.5k

It’s when I flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED that I can finally breathe. Saturday Sale Days at the bookstore are usually easygoing, but most people took refuge at the windows thanks to the crime scene across the street. Another sex worker was murdered, according to the agents who were here earlier. Well, one of them looked like an agent; coated from head to toe in black and seriousness. The other, however, might as well have been a pretentious preppy middle schooler who thinks a doctorate — three doctorates (he made sure to correct me) — gives him the excuse to lack social graces.

I’m not used to running into FBI agents regularly. However, I’m fairly confident that questioning civilians is more about further insight and not running to the end with confirmation bias. Dr. Reid, on the other hand, had his confirmation set that he and his team were looking for a woman riddled with internalized misogyny who was killing sex workers and leaving quotes from Ernest Hemingway pieces.

So, is it wrong that I may or may not have said they might actually be looking for a male with possible gender nonconformity issues? According to the quotes written in lipstick and discussions revolving around Hemingway’s relationship with gender, it was the first thing to pop into my head.

And it was Dr. Reid’s first instinct to take it personally, like any other gifted child who’s never learned what it’s like to be wrong (possibly). His reaction mainly consisted of raising his voice and saying my assumption “was not relevant to our case” and taking a collection of Hemingway’s short stories without paying for it. I haven’t found a suitable way to explain that to my boss yet.

Regardless of his reaction, I had no reason to expect to see him again. I got a card from Agent Prentiss after she questioned me behind the counter and haven’t heard a word since. It didn’t matter then because we were closed, and I had the day off tomorrow —

Knock, knock, knock. A simple three-raps on the glass. The night makes it difficult to see who it is, but I’m more than familiar with the panic button under the register. So before I turn the lights out, I get closer to the door to find out who on the other side can’t read.

And without thinking, I open the door, but don't let him in. “Agent Reid.” I can’t help but push him just a bit.

“Dr. Reid.”

“Right.” I faked a laugh (years of practice). “Well as you can see we’re closed for the night so —”

His hand is out, holding the book. The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. The paper cover is already pulled up at the corners and the spine is cracked. Nothing display worthy, that’s for sure. “I took this.”

“And you had it for six hours. How did you decimate it so quickly?”

“I was using it as a source while we were trying to solve the case.” His hand was shaking, from nervousness or lack of strength to hold a paperback in one hand for longer than a minute, either could be possible. “I figured a way to make amends was to come back and purchase it.”

I looked down at the book and looked back up at him. Sincerity and boyish charm force me to hold the door open for him and let him in. When he comes in, his under eyes are darker, perhaps because he's a night owl, or because of his job. His hair is still fluffy like this morning but droopy.

He was prepared to call it a night before coming here. But thievery is apparently too heavy for this agent’s shoulders.

I walk to the register, booting up the fancy tablet. “So did you? Solve the case, I mean?”

“We did.”

I scan the barcode, luckily he didn’t ruin that. “And? Did she explain the Hemingway quotes at least?”

Silence, only for a moment. I see his hands digging into his pockets. He pulls out a debit card and hands it over. “He, actually.”

“What?”

“He didn’t explain the Hemingway quotes but said he targeted sex workers because they were ‘freer than he ever would be.’”

Silence swallowed the room immediately upon saying that but of a different kind. The kind that was ripe for me to brag and possibly even do a little dance. But I’m patient, and I don’t like interrupting people. I tap the screen slowly so the good doctor can gather the words. I even took another glance and his eyes were already locked on me. It would’ve made me jump if he didn’t follow it with “You were right.”

There it is. “Hmm,” I say as I keep the arrogance down to a minimum as I contemplate my next words. I take his receipt and scribble before bagging the book. “So do I get a one-way ticket into the bureau, or do I take your place or —”

“Thank you for your help." He says slowly as if he were being ordered to apologize. Like he wrote these words in a document before coming here. “Your observation sent us in the right direction.” His hand is out, waiting.

I also have a talent for dragging things out. When I shut the techy stuff down again, I go back around and hand them to him, so I can get closer. Read his face. When he reaches out and just touches the paper, I jerk the bag back. “That’s not what you want to say.” I let the bag dangle off two of my fingers, shamelessly drinking in the moment. “Come on, it’s gotta be killing you.”

He rolls his eyes. Briefly, but enough for me to notice. “What could be killing me?”

“That you, an FBI agent, with two PhDs —”

“Three PhDs.”

This is so fun. “Three PhDs was outsmarted by a girl who works in a bookstore. Merely a bachelor's on my resume.”

“That is not the case.” He says.

“It seems relevant to the case now.” That intended to burn, and it did. Scorched actually. I could feel it from here, so I walked to the back to find the lights, expecting him to follow me.

He did. The creaking of the old wood floors echoed as we walked, there was no rhythm or synced steps, just two different walking patterns, one at ease and the other eager. “Just tell me how you figured it out.” He says. “Hemingway has been praised for his writing style and the way he wrote certain female characters but his macho personality indicated he enjoyed nothing feminine.”

A chuckle might have been appropriate, but I replied with a stark laugh. A bold “Ha!” As I opened the lightroom door. “Because macho men are known for being the happiest people on Earth, according to history.” With a click, the lights flickered steadily before turning off. I had my phone flashlight ready, though. “Honestly, Dr. Reid, it might be worthwhile to take a break from reading and watch a documentary on the man. It adds up quickly, even someone like you would get it.” I let the flashlight guide me back to the front, avoiding collateral damage from bookshelf corners.

Until Dr. Reid stepped in front of me, causing my head to collide with his chest. Somehow, I didn’t drop my phone and instinctively reached for my nose. “Someone like me?”

“Ow, first of all. But yes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I rub my nose in the dark. “That even a predictable bookish boy like you can eventually come to grips with the fact that he doesn’t know everything.”

“And you do?” He asked.

“I never said that,” I admitted.

He looked at me skeptically. Even in the dark, I could feel my arrogance might have gotten the best of me here. I tried looking away, to another dark space. 

He, however, did not. “What else did you say? Predictable?”

“You mean you don’t remember?”

He sighs, and air from his nose brushes above my lip.

Then so does his hand in my hair.

His lips, though, were quite the opposite. As if all his frustrations couldn’t take it anymore and needed to be let out with a teeth-smashing, saliva-coated spectacle (that no one could see. Not even us.) All I felt was wandering hands and the wall hitting the back of my head before he pulled away. His hands are still on my waist, and he breathes sharply in and out. “Was that predictable?” I heard him swallow.

I contemplated my response for a short while, wondering which one, a yes or a no, would get him to do it again. So instead, I just grabbed where I assumed his head would be and jerked him down to meet my lips again. It worked. His hands wrapped tight as if he glued himself to my skin. “Will you get reprimanded by your team for being somewhere you aren’t?” I ask between breaths and lip separation.

“Maybe. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“I won’t admit anything,” I said. Whether it was to see Dr. Reid’s night turn out worse, or to keep a secret from his boss about a makeout session in a bookstore, I’m not sure. But his body was thin, layered with clothes. Warm.

“What will you admit to?” He whispers, moving our bodies, begging for more kisses. Or just more.

“Dinner?”

“For?”

“Education purposes, Dr. Reid.” My hands can’t help but explore. “Seems like we’ve got a lot to learn.”

[wanders-in-wonderland]

First Date

The first thought I had when I saw him was that he looked even better than his profile. We’d matched on Tinder, and after a few days of messaging back and forth, we’d agreed to have a first date. He’d suggested a new restaurant in our area and he was even sweet enough to drive all the way across town to my apartment to pick me up.

Dinner was lovely, the food and drinks amazing and the conversation even better. He was charming and funny and I don’t remember when I’d been so at ease on a first date.

After dinner, he drove me back to my apartment and we sat in his car, still talking and laughing nonstop. I turn to him and shyly ask if he’d want to come up to my apartment for some coffee or dessert. I’m usually not one to invite guys over at night but everything about him has been so perfect and I’m reluctant to let this night end. He smiles and agrees, and we head in up to my apartment.

We’re laughing as we get to my door and I unlock it to let us in. “I’m sorry, it’s a bit of a mess, I wasn’t expecting to bring someone over so I didn’t have a chance to tidy up,” I say, looking around my space before looking up at him.

He smiles at me, but suddenly his expression changes to something sinister. Before I can process the change, he grabs me by the throat and slams me against the door I’d just shut and locked. I cry out, mostly from shock than pain, but his hand cracks across my face, the slap stunning me.

“Shut the fuck up, slut. I’ve been so patient with you all night, listening to your stupid little stories and laughing with you about your dumb little life when all I want is for you to shut up.” He snarls into my ear and I whimper in response, “I don’t understand, please stop! I’m sorry, I thought we were having a good time!”

“Oh this is about to be a good time,” he laughs darkly as he uses his body to pin mine even harder against the door. I let out a soft sob, feeling the hard outline of his cock press against my stomach. I push against him desperately and he hardly moves. In one swift movement, he grabs both my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head, leaving my body stretched out and exposed.

“Please stop, I’m sorry, we never have the see each other again!” I beg him, wanting him to just let me go and leave. His grip on my wrist tightens and his other hand comes up to cup my tits. “Oh no, I’m sure we’ll be seeing lots more of each other,” he says, the dark promise sending shivers down my spine.

His fingers brush over my nipple, the feeling making me gasp even though it’s over my clothes and bra. I wince a little, remembering how I’d even put on a sexy, lacy matching set in preparation for the date. He lets his hand trail downwards, and he slides it under my dress, gripping my thigh.

“Keep your legs apart for me or I’m going to be much meaner to you, slut.” His hand comes to cup my pussy and I whine softly, shaking my head desperately. He lets out a dark chuckle when he realizes that I’m drenched and my panties are soaked.

“Little slut, look at how your dripping for me. It looks like the idea of getting violated on your first date is exciting your cunt.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, not that I have anything to say to that. His fingers deftly slide under my panties and part my folds as one finger pushes into my pussy, my wetness offering him no resistance whatsoever. I gasp and let out a broken moan as the feeling overwhelms me.

His finger starts to move as a second one finds my clit and begins a relentless assault on my throbbing button. I can’t help but groan as the pleasure builds and I can feel my hips thrusting upwards, chasing the pleasure he’s forcing onto me. I want to hate it but it feels so good and I can feel myself being pushed toward an orgasm. He knows it too.

"Good little slut, I know how much you like this. Look at you, you're about to cum all over my fingers after just telling me how you didn't want any of this." He works his fingers faster, adding another inside of me as he curls upwards to rub my g-spot, making my knees buckle as my moans become even louder. I shouldn't want this, I shouldn't be moaning loud enough for my neighbors to hear, and I definitely shouldn't be able to cum right now.

"Come on, cum for me, slut. Cum for your rapist," he growls into my ear and I explode. I arch my back and wail as my orgasm rushes over me, my pussy clenching around his fingers and my clit pulsing in time to my heartbeat. He works me through my orgasm as my body goes limp against the wall.

He finally pulls his hand away and I watch through half-lidded eyes as he brings his hand up to his mouth and licks his fingers. I watch him pull off his belt and unbuckle his pants. "Get on your knees, slut," he says, pulling me harshly towards the floor. I sniff back tears as I lower myself down, feeling the hardwood of my entry way dig into my knees. He grabs my face, "Open that slutty little mouth."

I do as he says and he smiles. I watch as he reaches into his pants and pulls out his long, hard cock. I whimper softly, unconsciously rubbing my thighs together and feeling saliva collect in my mouth. His cock is gorgeously thick, veined, long, and so hard. I can't imagine how he'll fit fully into my mouth but before I can think about it too much, he slips the head of it between my lips.

"If you even think about using your teeth, I will choke the life out of you," he says as he thrusts deep into my mouth. He isn't slow or nice or gentle. His cock hits the back of my throat and tears well up in my eyes as I gag around him. He doesn't care as he sets a punishing pace, thrusting into my mouth while I can barely breathe. He groans above me, "Fuck, your little mouth is much better on my cock that it is spouting your stupid stories."

I choke around his cock, feeling it enter deeper into my throat. Eventually, I find a rhythm, bobbing my head in time with his thrusts and drawing in gasps of air in between each one. I can feel my pussy clenching emptily and my clit throbbing. His cock feels so good in my mouth, and I can't help but wonder how fast he could make me cum with it in my cunt.

I hear his groans change in pitch, and I know he's close. My previous rhythm is lost when his hips speed up and he grabs a fistful of my hair in one hand. He thrusts his cock deeper into my throat and he cums. My throat works to swallow all of his cum as I feel his hips stop moving. His cock is still hard as he pulls away, a string of my spit clinging on as he backs away from me slightly.

"Fuck, you're a perfect little cocksucker." He leans against my apartment door briefly as I sit back on my heels, giving my knees a break and looking up at him. "Please, just leave, you got what you wanted," I beg, still clinging on to unfounded hope and whatever dignity I had left. He laughs, "Oh no, little slut, I'm not even close to getting what I want, and we are far from done. By the time I finish, you won't want me to leave."

"Turn around and get on your hands and knees," he says, pushing off the door and coming to kneel next to me. I feel my heart drop, knowing that he's going to fuck my cunt next and there's nothing I can do to stop him. He grabs my hair, and shoves my head down, "I said on your hands and knees, you slut."

I whine at the pain in my scalp and my arms come to catch myself before I fall face-first into the floor. He's behind me now and I crane my neck, trying to keep him in my eyeline. I feel him flip the skirt of my dress up, revealing my damp panties that he yanks down to my knees. Suddenly, I feel his hand come crashing down on my ass, pain shooting through me as he spanks me hard. I cry out and he spanks me a second time, just as hard.

"Little sluts that get wet and cum for their rapists deserve to be treated like this," he says and I feel my face flush with humiliation. He spanks me several more times, each time forcing a sob from my lips. Then, I feel him press against me and I feel the tip of his cock nudge my pussy lips.

"Wait no! Please stop!" I wail desperately, my begging ending in a scream as he ignores me and slams deep into my cunt. I feel my pussy flutter around his cock, my wetness making his violation of my body seamless and effortless. His cock feels so good inside of me, his thickness splitting me open in the best way, and I feel the head of his cock push up against my g-spot, making me see stars. This time, he's nice enough to give me a moment to adjust before he starts.

His starts thrusting deep and fast, not letting me do anything except feel. I can hear the wanton sounds coming from my mouth and the lewd sound of my pussy clenching around his cock. I'm too far gone to care about anything other than the pleasure that is radiating from my core. One of his hands is on my hip, holding me still and the other one wraps around my hair, pulling my head up to make my back arch. I'm moaning, whimpering, and screaming out in pleasure and I can feel my orgasm rapidly approaching.

"That's it, slut. You're taking my cock so fucking well. I'm going to make you cream all over my cock, cum on your rapists cock, you dirty little slut." He growls into my ear as his hand leaves my hip to travel down to pluck at my clit. I scream louder in response as the combined pleasure peaks in an all-consuming orgasm. My cunt is clenching hard on his cock and I hear him groan deeply in response.

I'm still cumming when I hear him curse behind me, "I'm going to cum in your cunt, take your rapist's cum, you fucking slut." I feel his thrusts stutter and his hot cum floods my pussy. My cunt is still fluttering around him and I'm delirious with pleasure and exhaustion as I feel him pull out of me, leaving me empty and wanting. He lays me down gently on the floor and lies down next to me, draping an arm over my waist as he props his head up on one arm. I blink up at him blearily and smile a little.

He grins and leans in for a soft kiss. "So, when's our second date?"

I smile and press myself against him, "How about you stay the night and we figure that out tomorrow morning?"

--

Idea Credit to @thighsquivering

[goldeunoias]

Decisions.

A/N: I like writing for Jay stans the most because they give me the most reblogs and comments instead of just only leaving likes (which doesn't really do much darlings) soooo here's a Jay fic for you amazing guys <;33333333

Summary: Yandere! JayX Female Reader (it shows bit by bit the more it goes on)

word count: 3,1k i think idk

Warnings: this literally has my favorites, horse cock Jay, teasing dom Jay, like multiple orgasms, just like....horknee thoughts bc it's me....upon proofreading there is like...anal fingering look I'm....a whore okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10 years ago~

Jongseong sniffled as he sat down with his lunch, once again eating alone. Had he known the kids here would be so mean he would've begged his parents to let him stay back where he was from with his grandmother, but to no avail.

"Hello! I like your glasses! They make you look smart. Are you?" the girl who stood in front of him curiously asked. She was the first person who had even bothered to stare in his direction, let alone talk to him.

"U-Uh I don't know. Maybe?" he cautiously replied, waiting for a cruel punchline to follow.

Instead, she giggled, sitting with her lunch in front of him.

"You're cute," she laughed, opening her lunch.

Jongseong looked down shyly, feeling his ears turn into shades of peonies.

From that point on he'd always thought you cuter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood outside the club, wondering what the hell you were thinking.

You'd never been in a proper relationship.

Never been on a proper date.

And yet here you were, outside a BDSM club with an appointment that you'd made.

"Well, I'm sure women have made dumber decisions," you muttered to yourself, shaking out your sweaty palms and walking inside. The establishment looked excellent and pristine, which was expected since it was your city's nicest and safest S&M club. So at the bare minimum, your impulsive decision was backed by somewhat sound logic.

When you went up to the counter you found a petite lady wearing a mask, though you saw the corners of her eyes turn up as you approached.

"Hello, do you have an appointment?" she said in a soft voice. You nodded and told her your name and appointment time, thankful the receptionist seemed professional and not judgemental like your anxiety had expected.

"You're gonna be in room 305, with Jongseong Park as confirmed in our phone call. We recommend that you shower for hygiene, and there are bathrooms located in each of the rooms. If there are any accommodations missing such as towels, soap, or anything else feel free to use the phone to call and a staff member will bring items as needed. If you feel scared or unsafe at any time there are red buttons in our rooms which can be pressed and staff members will rush to aid you. Our doms go through different training and extensive background checks so rest assured you are in safe hands," she informed you gently, giving you a brief description of how to find your room.

You gave her a sincere "thank you" and walked off to find your room, finding it easy enough thanks to her directions. As expected, when you opened the room no one was there since you were informed on the phone that your master doesn't show up until you've pressed one on the phone, to make sure you have ample time to prep if needed.

From appearance, it looked like a normal hotel room, though upon further inspection you found many BDSM items in the drawers and cabinets. You wrote on your profile and informed me on the phone that you needed someone who would ease you very gently into all of this. You took a shower and got into the bathrobe that was complimentary, still keeping your underwear as you were too nervous to go completely naked just yet.

Taking a deep breath you went over to the phone and pressed one, sitting on the bed and twiddling your thumbs until his arrival. There were three knocks on the door before it slowly opened, the man keeping his head down as he stood at the threshold.

He asked you for your name and you told him, Jongseong raising his head once he had confirmation it was you. His voice was deep and warm, causing goosebumps to rise on your freshly washed skin as he slowly walked over to you.

He knelt down at the foot of the bed where you sat, grabbing your hands and massaging them gently.

"Mm, you're even prettier than the photos they gave me kitten. Is it okay if I call you that?" he inquired sweetly, the gentle command he held in his tone making your spine tingle.

"T-that's okay," you stuttered out, the cotton bathrobe feeling 10x hotter now. "Do you have a preference on what you like to be called?"

You watched as Jongseong cocked his head to the side in playful thought, the shadow of his jawline becoming more prominent as he did so.

"Why don't you call me 'sir'. Or you can call me my name if 'sir' feels too intimidating," he added on, squeezing your hands when he felt your erratic heartbeat through your wrists.

"That works," you rushed out, feeling stupid in his presence. "Sorry you probably have way more experienced clients and better ones than dealing with someone like me," you apologized.

Jongseong shook his head and pulled your hands so you were even closer to him, his lips only centimeters away from yours as he spoke.

"Never feel bad for lack of experience kitten. That's what you're here for isn't it?"

You nodded.

"Exactly. And I'm here to make you feel good. Can I kiss you?" he asked gently, smiling slightly when you nodded. His lips were soft in a way that made your toes curl, your hands clenching the material of your bathrobe as you didn't know what else to do with them.

Jongseong sensing your slight discomfort moved your hands around his neck, gently moving you so you were on your back and he was on top of you.

"When was the last time you were kissed kitten?"

You tensed up at the question and told him through bashful stares that it was freshmen year of college, and you weren't even sure that that counted.

"Sorry, can you tell I'm not the greatest," you muttered out, biting down on your lips in nerves. Jongseong avidly shook his head and pressed his thumb against your bottom lip to prevent you from biting it, cooing at you gently.

"You're just tense is all, holding back. If you came to a place like this that means you have at least some curiosity in kinky sex no?" He teased, holding your chin when you tried to look away from him.

You gulped and nodded.

"Words for me kitten, I gotta have your verbal confirmation on things no?"

"I do." you meekly replied. "I just thought well, um...I'd get more satisfaction if I went to a place like this," you explained to him, your body melting when Jongseong started leaving open-mouth kisses on your neck.

"Mmhmm, tell me more," he urged on, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them above your head.

"I've only had minor sexual experiences in high school and had "real" sex early in college and they weren't good so I gave up on relationships and sex since I didn't-" A moan left your throat as Jongseong's tongue swirled around your pulse.

"Continue kitten," he teased, noticing how you started melting into his touches versus tensing up at them.

"...I d-didn't get good experiences. But I recently got curious and so here I am," you finished. Jongseong came up to your face with a smile that held sinister intent, leaning in close to you.

"Don't worry kitten, I'll make you feel good..." he trailed off, biting your ear gently. "So good that you'll come back to me every time..."

Before you could answer his lips pressed back against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth with ease. His mouth felt hot and the texture of his tongue against yours made you whimper, feeling droplets of his saliva trickle into your mouth.

When he pulled back you instinctively reached for him and Jongseong couldn't help but smile internally as he let you pull him back in, letting you set the rhythm you wanted.

Your skin was so soft against his callused hands, better than he'd imagined as he slid his fingers underneath your robe and undid it. Before you could cover yourself he pinned your hands to your sides and took an erect nipple into his mouth, letting you feel the texture of his tongue as it swirled around delicately.

You bit down on your tongue to keep what you thought were embarrassing noises in your throat, Jongseong huffing and coming up to stare at you.

"Why aren't you moaning kitten? Are not feeling good?" he inquired sweetly, circling his warm finger around your saliva-laden nipple. You were caught off guard by it and let out a yelp, rushing to cover your mouth before lowering it.

"It's um, not that...I just won't sound like those girls in hentai or porn and I don't know what I am supposed to sound like...is all," you finished weirdly, following Jongseong's movements as he went to the other pert nipple, delicately flicking it with his tongue.

Your breath hitched and Jay chuckled, his finger tugging at the bud.

"Oh but a kitten, I want to hear you," he drawled slowly, coming up so he was speaking teasingly against your lips. "I want you to have lost your voice by the time I'm done with you. For you to even be heard through the hotel walls," he pushed on.

You gulped at how sultry his voice sounded, your body burning as his calloused hand came in between your thighs. You scrunched your face up and let out a moan at the contact, wondering if he could feel the slick that covered your underwear.

"Thatta girl, show sir how good you're feeling," he praised gently, kissing your jawline.

"Can you...," you stopped yourself at your own nerves.

Jongseong stopped and perked up, his carob eyes making you feel extra shy. "No no what is it, tell me kitten."

You swallowed thickly. "I've never really, well never actually had a guy eat me out andIwantedtoknowhowitfeltlike," you managed out, unable to make eye contact with him. You didn't need to because he was already inching down your body and tugging down your underwear before you could even say anything.

His grip was strong on your calves as he firmly held your legs open, Jonseong's breath getting heavier as he saw your arousal-coated core.

"You wrote in your profile that you don't like it when it's shaved so I didn't," you muttered gently, feeling embarrassed from how intently he was staring.

"Shit kitten~ your pussy's so goddamn pretty, I mean you're dripping onto the sheets already," Jongseong groaned, the tone of his voice causing you to clench around nothing.

You didn't even realize a guy could get so turned on by you, let alone from a region that you found rather embarrassing.

"D-don't just stare at it," you whined, your chest rising as he dragged a digit down the center, gathering up syrupy beads of arousal.

"Of course not kitten...," he trailed off, flattening his tongue against your core and you let out a moan. You didn't realize how textured someone's tongue could be and how warm and wet it was until was circling around your swollen clit, your head lolling off to the side as you gripped his hair.

Jongseong could hardly contain his excitement as sweet honey coated his tongue, spelling out his name with his tongue against your folds.

"You seem to like the letter "o" of my name don't you kitten," he cooed as he slid a single digit in. He raised his brows at the amount of resistance that was met and your reaction, your hands gripping the pillow tighter.

"Do you not finger yourself at all sweetheart?" he inquired as he left open-mouthed kisses on your aching core, curling it in an area that you'd never reached. You shook your head and felt your stomach contract at the feeling, feeling your head get lighter at the sensation.

"It never felt good when I did it and then when a guy did it it just hurt a lot," you whimpered out, your voice breaking at the end as he slid a second digit in.

You never knew that having your core stretched out could feel so good, the squelching noises coming from you making your face burn in bashfulness.

Jongseong on the other hand was reveling in it all, doing his best to not push you to your very limits: he wanted to make you cry and blubber out his name, paint your walls white with his cum, and other sinful things.

Your whimper of "jongseong" snapped him out of his thoughts, the innocent and expectant eyes you gave him almost making him cum right then and there.

"S-sorry I didn't mean to call your name when you said sir but you were lost in thought," you answered, flinching slightly when Jongseong came up face to face with you, shoving his fingers in knuckle deep.

"Shit, I knew there was a reason you shouldn't have said my name," he panted out, pressing on the spongy spot on your walls at every chance he could.

"Why is t-that," you yelped out, legs closing around his hand as you felt a tight knot form in your lower belly. You also felt something else building up as he alternated between pressing down on your clit and scissoring your core, your hands meekly attempting to push his wrist away.

"Because if you say my name I won't be able to hold back," he groaned, his breath hitching as you moaned his name out again.

"I think something weird is going to come out, waitwaitwait," you croaked, your nails leaving claw marks down his tan skin.

"Shhh it's okay kitten just let it out, I got you I got you," he pushed softly in your ear.

Your legs tried to clamp around his hand to stop his movements but his reactions were quicker, situating himself so you could only close your legs around his waist.

"Don't be scared sweetheart, make me proud yeah? It'll feel really good, promise," he cooed at you as he put more force behind his movements, wanting you to unravel from the seams.

Your eyes fluttered for a second as the knot snapped. You were still pushing his hand away as liquid gushed from between your legs, tears forming in your eyes as you felt a pleasure so intense it felt like your body would give out right then and there.

"I-I got your robe wet," you said through panted breaths, trying to say anything to divert the attention away from the liquid that soaked your form and partially his.

Jongseong smiled to himself at the attempt, undoing with with ease and tossing it somewhere in the room. You couldn't help but stare at the erection that was practically forcing its way of his briefs, Jongseong lowering the waistband so you could see him fully.

There was a trail of hair that led from his lower abdomen to his erection, your eyes glued to the area like you were in a trance.

"You can touch it kitten, it doesn't bite," Jongseong purred, gently sitting you up so you could reach him with ease. You wrapped your hand around his length and were surprised at the warmth and weight you felt against your hand.

You gave it a gentle squeeze to see how he'd react and were surprised to hear him hissing through his teeth, his abdomen clenching at your timid movements.

"Why don't you get it nice and wet so it can go in easy yeah?" Jongseong cooed, his dick already twitching at the thought of pushing past your gummy walls.

You gathered up courage and wrapped your mouth around him, hollowing out your cheeks and relaxing your jaw to the best of your abilities. Maybe it was because his intoxicating smell but you were salivating to the point of having droplets trickle down your chin as you got greedy to take more of him.

"Easy there kitten, don't force all in at once," he cooed through a hissed breath, head swimming at how hot your mouth was. You nodded and pulled off of him to circle your tongue around his tip like a popsicle, a sheen glossing his member as you coated it with your saliva.

"That's a good girl~ making me so proud. See how deep you can take me hm?" You nodded and took a deep breath before slowly relaxing your throat around him, the intense groans and pants leaving him giving you more courage.

You weren't able to get down to the base but you were pretty damn close, Jongseong pulling you off of him before he came down your throat.

The cool demeanor Jongseong had started with was gone: his cheeks were rose and there was a sheen of sweat across his body, a ragged "get on your stomach" leaving him as he stroked his member with your saliva.

You did as you were told and gripped the pillows anxiously, Jongseong chuckling and bending over you.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit," he taunted against your ear, raising you up by your hips. He grabbed a condom and ripped it with his teeth before pulling down on himself, stroking his base languidly.

You felt the air get knocked out of you as he forced his mushroom head past your walls, your legs kicking from underneath him as you felt the push.

"Jongseong it's not gonna fit, it's not," you pleaded with him, fat tears rolling down your sweaty cheeks. It was a mistake to show him your crying face because it only egged him on more, a saccharine-sweet smile coming onto his lips.

"A good pussy takes any cock that it's given, kitten. Don't you wanna be my good girl?" he emphasized, forcing in another couple of inches. You nodded through your tears, shaking when Jongseong grabbed your hand and pressed it against your lower belly.

"Look kitten, you can feel where I'm going inside you. Do you think I'll be able to touch your cervix?" he almost taunted you, a muffled moan leaving you as he bottomed out.

"I-I don't know" you whelped out, feeling your inner thighs get sticky as cock his pushed out more droplets of syrupy essence.

Every breath you took caused your stomach to press against his member, Jongseong enveloping his large hands in yours on either side as he started moving. You couldn't even moan as you felt your head get lighter, only able to process how his member was stretching you so much.

Jongseong swore as you clamped down on him like a vice, pulling back some so he could see you leak around his cock. "Oh sweetheart, wouldn't you look stunning like this in Polaroids," he mused, his cock twitching inside of you at the thought of having black and white photos of your cum leaking out of your core and bite marks littering your soft skin.

He chuckled when your walls fluttered around him for a moment at the thought, burying your head in the pillow in shame.

"Oh? Seems princess would be into it?"

You hesitantly nodded.

Jongseong pulled your chin from your pillow and turned you around so you could see his darkening eyes, that same saccharine smile coming onto his lips.

"Next time yeah?"

"Next time....?" you repeated, gripping the headboard when Jongseong snapped his hips into you, trying to ease yourself away from the full feeling.

Jongseong only chuckled at your pathetic attempt to flee from his length, pushing your hips back against his as punishment for even attempting to get away.

He smiled, watching as your other hole twitched before letting a trickle of saliva from his mouth seep into the area. "Of course kitten next time. What, did you think you were gonna leave me?" He cooed, rubbing the area before sliding his middle finger in. Your legs spasmed underneath his at the intrusion, burying your mouth into the pillow as you groaned heavily.

"No, but don't you have other clients?" you inquired as he curled his finger and moved his member at the same time, your hands reaching back to meekly push his waist away.

He pouted and kissed your ear gently before using his weight to pin your body down, his hips starting to pick up faster.

"Not anymore."

**********************************

Jongseong walked outside the hotel room, giving the guy who waited outside the wad of cash as promised.

"Can't believe you looked everywhere just for one girl," He said in amusement, flicking his head to the room where you slept. "Think she'll find out you don't work here?"

Jongseong smiled and leaned against the wall. "Doubtful. And we're gonna keep it that way," he warned, putting on a soft smile as he walked back into the hotel room. He leaned over your restful form and kissed your cheek, his hands rubbing over the beautiful marks he'd left.

You rustled in your sleep but still lay there, Jongseong playing with the hem of the t-shirt he let you wear.

"You're all mine now kitten, all mine."

**********************************

feedback leads to me writing more for certain members so remember that and leave a comment, reblog, or anon!

there shan't be a part two <3 tho.

[kairiscorner]

do one where peter accidentally catches miguel giggling and smiling like a dumb ahh bc of our rizz on text 🤪🤪 (ooc ik but let me live k)

ofc dracuilina bc i wanna see that too :> HOPE YA LIKE THIS MWEHEHEHHEE

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

photo creds: @atreus1526 on tiktok !! (though i got the pic from pinterest, do lmk if they have a tumblr !!)

a/n: yes, i finally made something like a text fic, sorry if it isn't very good 😭😭😭 also if anyone steals it, two things: 1) why would you 2) i will fuck you up don't you dare (・∀・)

when you rizzed him up too good – miguel o'hara x reader

miguel was having a slow day at HQ, not many anomalies needed to be captured and sent back to their home dimensions, and no canon events were disrupted any time this week. it was a little too quiet in the usually rowdy and chaotic halls of the spider society, what broke the pure silence that filled his dim office was the sound of your text.

miguel saw your messages, and immediately texted you back. he could never leave you on read for too long, that was his guilty secret. he loved, yet hated, indulging you–you always got a little too comfortable and sometimes pushed his buttons, but he loved you nonetheless.

miguel sighed as he saw those three white dots dancing on his screen, and he was questioning why his profile picture had his sleeping face with a horse's ass on the blanket. he should've burned that gift from peter b, he never should've accepted any gift from that man.

his phone dinged and tore the silence asunder with another message from you.

and he thought that'd be the end of it–well, partially thought, because it was you he was talking to–but it clearly wasn't. and nothing could prepare him for the next couple of messages you sent him.

he sounded desperate, but he kept reminding himself he wasn't desperate, you were desperate–he was just giving you what you wanted. which was what he also wanted. badly. right now. especially when he had barely anything to do.

he felt his cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrowing out of a unique kind of frustration, one that didn't fully piss him off, but made him wish something. wish that... he was there with you, could have that steamy hot shower date with you and just...

fuck, you decided to be all cutesy again. you know how much that riles him up. and makes him do things he usually wouldn't be caught doing.

he felt a small smile crack on his face as he saw your little kaomojis, your petty texts of sarcastic revenge, and how snarky you could be... it made his heart beat a little faster, made the muscles in his cheeks raise and his smile widen; you made him chuckle. that was how much he loved you, loved everything about you, and you made him go a little crazy over you and your natural charms.

it was just then that peter b swung into miguel's office all casually, asking him if he's seen the horse ass blanket that he gave miguel. "yeah, uh, that was apparently a wedding anniversary gift mj got me. if i don't get it soon, i–" peter b rambled as he looked up at miguel, who was preoccupied with his phone.

he raised an eyebrow at two things: 1) miguel knew how to use a phone? 2) was he... smiling?

peter b swung over behind miguel and peered over his shoulder, seeing his texts with you for a hot second before miguel whipped his head around and replaced the gleeful grin from earlier into a frightening scowl.

"parker." he greeted him monotonously as miguel put his phone away. peter b smiled, knowing that you made miguel's day a little brighter. "nevermind, keep the blanket." he said as he pat miguel's shoulder and swung back out of his office, trying to keep in the urge to laugh aloud at the image of miguel's head sticking out with the horse's ass on the blanket.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @arachnoia @fictarian @yuridopted0 @ophanimgold @meeom @melovetitties

[roosterforme]

Gonna Make You Sweat | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is determined to get back in peak physical condition, but you are more of a distraction than he anticipated.

Warnings: Fluff and smut

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

Bradley had finally graduated from physical therapy, and while he had regained full use of his left arm, the scarring was still very much present. He hated the way it looked, but there wasn't much he could do about it. 

But what he could do, was get himself back in top shape before he married you. His physical therapist had given him the green light to work out as much as he wanted to, and he decided to buy a weight bench for the garage. 

"We don't really even use the garage, and this way we can have a home gym," he told you as he ordered everything online from his spot on the couch. 

You climbed into his lap and took his phone out of his hand. "Promise me you aren't doing this because you think you need to, Bradley. You're very physically healthy already. You go for a run most days, and I feed you very well."

Bradley examined your face. "Don't you miss my abs, Baby Girl?"

You just shrugged against his chest and ran your fingers under his shirt and across his belly button. "They were nice. This is nice, too. And I'm going to absolutely love it when you have a dad bod someday," you said, biting your lip and moaning. 

Just hearing you say the word dad had his dick signaling that it was time to be inside you, and that moan had him pushing you down onto the couch. 

"A dad bod, you say? As soon as you want that to happen, you just let me know, Sweetheart," he said, yanking your shorts off as you stroked him through his jeans. You giggled as he kissed your engagement ring and slid inside you. 

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

The gym arrived two weeks before Labor Day in what seemed like a million delivery boxes filled with pieces that needed to be assembled. Bradley coaxed you out to the garage one evening after work to help him put it together, but you weren't much help at all.

"Let's go to bed," you whined over and over again, crawling into his lap where he sat on the floor. "I like your body the way it is. You don't even need a gym."

He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Well, I just spent thousands of dollars on it, so it's staying. Need to look good for our wedding," he said, kissing your hair. "Besides, Jake has been acting weird, and everyone thinks he has a new girlfriend. I want to look better than him again so you can gloat to his girl next time we go to the beach."

You rolled your eyes so hard, Bradley had to laugh. "If Jake was seeing someone, I would know about it."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"Because we have girl talk all the time," you said as you nestled against his neck and rubbed your hand on his belly.

"You and Jake... have girl talk?"

"Yeah, he tells me stuff that happens and I let him know how he fucked up. I'd like to say I'm his guru," you said seriously, making Bradley laugh. 

"Well he certainly needs one. Help me put the last part together so we can go to bed," he said with a yawn. 

When he stepped back and inspected it, everything looked perfect. And when he started using it the following day, he was happy with his purchase. In fact, he ended up in the garage for an hour every night after he finished cleaning the kitchen from your dinner preparations. 

He'd been listening to the gym playlist you made for him and really getting back into the groove of things. His arm was giving him no pain now, and he was working himself slowly up to heavier weights.

"Looking sexy, Roo," you told him when you poked your head in, raking your gaze over his body. "All hot and sweaty."

Bradley sat up on the bench and patted his thigh with his gloved hand. "Wanna join me while I take a little break," he asked you innocently. 

Your lips parted and your nostrils flared, and Bradley was curious about what you would do. You were supposed to be going out for drinks with your colleagues and your boss to celebrate Bickel's upcoming promotion. But he knew you hated being late to anything work related, even a happy hour. 

Bradley watched you hesitate, your hands grasping the fabric of your dress where it sat against your thighs. "No!" you said suddenly. "I know how you are, and you do this to me all the time!"

"Do what?" he asked, cocking his head like he had no idea what you were talking about.

You sighed. "You make me late for everything, Bradley. Flaunting your appeal right in front of me. But not today, sir!" you said, spinning on your heel. A few minutes later, he heard your car start, and he returned to his workout with a big grin. 

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

Bradley checked himself in the bathroom mirror before he pulled on an old tee shirt for working out. Just a week later, and he was already feeling better. He jogged through the house and let Tramp out into the back yard as he headed for the garage. He could probably squeeze a quick workout in before he needed to shower to leave for the airport. 

He turned on his playlist and got to work, singing along to everything and completely losing track of time. 

"Bradley! I thought you would be in the shower by now!" you said when you strolled into the garage. 

He set his barbell down and turned to face you. "What time is it?"

"Their flight lands in an hour," you told him, strolling closer. You were wearing one of those romper things he both loved and hated. They looked cute, but they were annoying to take off. 

He licked his lips, tasting his own sweat there, and when you got close enough he reached out and grabbed your hand. "We've got time," he said, his voice deep and raspy. 

"Roo," you cautioned, pressing your lips together, but he was already pulling you down to sit on his thigh where he was straddling the bench. "You look good," you whispered, and he grabbed your chin, kissing you hard. 

"Do I?" he asked between kisses. 

"Mmhmm," you hummed. But you were already moaning softly, turning to face him a little more and running your hands up and down his sweaty biceps. He watched you pull away from his mouth, your tongue darting out to taste the sweat that trickled down his cheek. 

Bradley could feel his balls tighten as you pulled your tongue back into your mouth before licking your lips. "You always look good," you added, pulling his shirt off and running your fingers along his flat tummy while you kissed and licked his neck. 

After he made sure all of the weights were locked in place, he turned back to you, tipping you down until you were laying on your back on the bench one leg over each side. "You always look perfect," he whispered, unbuttoning your romper and guiding it carefully down your body, watching you lift your hips so he could remove it. You had skipped a bra, something he was wild about, and he hummed against your skin as he kissed your breasts.

"I wasn't kidding though," you gasped. "I liked your little belly. The precursor to the dad bod looked hot on you."

Bradley wrenched your underwear off and planted kiss after kiss on your pussy as he eased his gym shorts and boxer briefs just low enough to get his dick free. The bench was narrow, and there wasn't a lot of room to work with, but he managed to get himself in a good position to slip into your wet slit. 

"Oh," you gasped, reaching for his shoulders as he leaned over you. 

"Listen, Baby Girl. Whenever you wanna make me a daddy, you just let me know," he told you, moving in a steady rhythm inside you as he planted his hands on your hips for leverage. "I'll give up the abs to spend my time changing diapers instead."

"Oh!" you whined louder, biting your lip. Bradley leaned down to kiss you, and he watched a drop of his sweat land next to your mouth. He was mesmerized by your tongue darting out to taste it.

"Oh fuck, Sweetheart. I'm ready to be a daddy when you want me to be," he promised running his thumbs in soft circles along your pelvic bones as he fucked you a little harder.

"You're already my Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley thought his brain must have shut down. 

His movements came stuttering to a halt just as you started whining for more. And when you looked up at him, your eyes absolutely pleading for him to keep going, you once again whispered, "Daddy?"

Bradley slowly withdrew his dick and slammed himself back into you, never taking his eyes off yours. "Oh!" you gasped. "So you like it when I call you that?"

"Say it again," he growled loudly, fucking into you so hard, the bench moved a few inches across the floor as your tits bounced wildly. He watched your eyes roll back as you moaned Daddy a little louder. 

"Don't stop," he demanded, giving you everything he had left. 

"I won't, Daddy," you cried out. 

Bradley had no idea he would like this so much, but in fact, he fucking loved it. Now he was grabbing your waist so hard, he saw tears in your eyes as you chanted, "DAD-DY! DAD-DY! DAD-DY!" Each syllable you moaned matched perfectly with each thrust he landed.

He came so hard, his teeth were chattering. You were whimpering beneath him, completely disheveled with smeared makeup as you whined and squeezed every drop from his cock. Bradley withdrew himself from you and finger fucked his cum back inside. He leaned over you, teasing your swollen clit and working his semen into you until you were literally crying.

Then he kissed your tears away, his fingers still rammed deep inside your pussy. "Daddy loves you," he promised, as you tried to catch your breath. "You're Daddy's Baby Girl."

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

Bradley drove the Bronco to the San Diego International Airport with an enormous smile on his face. You had your left hand laced with his right, and he was slowly spinning your engagement ring around your finger while he drove. You had your head resting against his bicep while you selected songs from one of your playlists. 

His enormous smile still remained as he parked and helped you out, walking you to the terminal with his arm wrapped around your waist. Your romper was a wrinkly mess, and you still had a small smudge of mascara below your eye, and he knew your pussy was filled with his cum. He fucking loved you.

Sex in the garage had made you late, and your parents were already waiting next to the baggage carousel when the two of you arrived. 

"Oh, honey! Show me your ring!" your mom called as soon as she saw you. Bradley let you out of his grasp as you went to hug them both, and he smiled, because he knew how lucky you were to have both parents here.

Then he almost choked as he heard you greet them, "Mom! Daddy! I missed you."

Bradley shook hands with your father, but he was barely able to make eye contact with him. This was going to be a very long weekend. 

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

Oh, Baby Girl, he loved that so much! Well, stay tuned for A Love You Don't Find Everyday...there will be more of Baby Girl and Daddy Roo and their next adventure!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[fayes-fics]

Awww you are so kind and naughty to gift us with little Kinktober drabbles! 🫶 Since I have declared my gifs free use, that’s on the brain 😏 can I request:

Benedict + modern + free use

Your imagination never fails to delight but if you need a lil inspo, I’m thinking our gal is on a work call and Ben is…needy 😈 Do your worst 💙

Kinktober: Benedict + Sex Toy / Squirting

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Paring: Benedict Bridgeton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, use of sex toy, squirting.

Author’s note: hi lovely 🫶 thanks for this. I went with the first thing that came to mind. I don't know if Ben is needy enough, other than for her to orgasm, sorry, but he's certainly a menace 😁 Enjoy! 🧡

You just manage to slam the Zoom mute button before moaning loudly, shuddering, gripping the kitchen island with white knuckles.

“You absolute fucker…,” you grit out, teeth clenched, “...don't you dare fucking stop.”

Benedict pushes the toy deeper, rocking the insistent buzz heavily over your G-spot.

“Come on, give it to me,” he demands, his voice rough, low, needy, as he crowds into your back.

“You're lucky I don't have to be on camera right now,” you gasp, pussy already convulsing as his thumb swipes your swollen clit, making you call out.

“What a pity for them; your face is beautiful when you’re about to come,” he flatters duskily, his breath hot on your ear, smugly watching your expression in profile as, with a flick of his finger, he turns the dial up to the max. 

Then all you can do is scream until you are gushing all over his hand, him holding you upright as your knees cave in.

Everyone comments on your rosy glow when you switch your camera back on—as he stands on the other side of the island, smirking and licking his fingers provocatively. 

You are already plotting your revenge.

No taglist as these drabbles are so short

[purpleyoonn]

baby (you complete us) 3

C H A P T E R   T H R E E

summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.

Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,

pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC

warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan

chapter warnings: lotssss of angst (ofc), nervous mc, nervous bangtan, insecure mc, breakdowns, not much

*words in italics are spoken in Korean*

masterlist // chapter 2 // chapter 4 

taglist: @imnotlauriane​  @mageprincess7​ @m1sss1mp​ @0funsite0​  @strawberry-moonpies​ @this-isthe-way​ @singukieee​ @btsw1fe​ @gooooomz​  @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @carolinexkpop​ @agusfree​ @sakurarukas​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @skyys-universe​ @toughbook​ @plutoneu​ @whisperssuga​ @welcometomyworld13​ @yuzon3​ @wittyreader​ @jnghs​ @cyd0129​ @exfolitae​​ @queen-in-the-shadows​​ @nen-nyy​​ @pandxthings​​ @schniti-is-in-the-house​​ @juju-227592​​ @jinseartharmysmoon​​ @wooya1224​​ @ddaeng-angmoh​​ @gratefullygrateful​​ @rorythme​​ @gratefullygrateful​​ @kimrona​​ @jjjj-ssi​​ @maysgarden​​ @lovelgirl22​​ @doublebunv​​ @reallysparklychaos​​ @jayjayy-57​​

permanent taglist: @yourleftsock​​​ @cryingpages​​​ @strxwbloody​​​  @drissteele​​​ @dustyinkpages​​​ @crushedblackroses​​​  @blaaiissee​​​  @iiitsmaria​​​  @azazel-nyx​​​  @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​​​ @knjkitten​​​ @kleirielk​​​ @foreverweareyoung7​​​ @lachimolala22019​​​ @namuficxs​​​ @94z-93​​​ @kimgmzmc​​​ @thenaverse​​​ @veronawrites​​ @dahliasbouqet​​ @black-rose-29​​ @tinyoonsblog​​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​​ @stellauniverse​​ @stupendouscookiehumanmug​​ @tinyoonsblog​​  @tatyhend​​ 

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

Previously on baby (you complete us):

You clicked on the messages first, tears coming to your eyes as you scrolled all the way to the top, replies waiting to be clicked on for every single one of the messages you have sent over the past ten years.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, needing to rub your tired eyes more than once as English and Korean replies were sent, responding to each and every one of your own messages. Hundreds of apologies written as you scrolled, each one sorry for waiting so long to wear their bracelets.

You moved over to the ‘matches’ button, needing to confirm with your own thoughts what was happening. And there it was, seven matches, their profile pictures and names only confirmed that you were the missing soulmate to BTS.

You sat on your bed in shock, not knowing what to do as your brain froze, the seven people in your matches folder staring back at you. You just kept reading their names, over and over again, trying to tell yourself that this was a dream that your subconscious gave you to build your hope up again.

But then you remembered that the official tweet said that they sent a message with the number of one of their team members, a number to call so they knew it was you. You searched your messages, scrolling all the way down to the bottom to see that same number with the message:

“Hello. This is Sejin with BTS’s management team. Here is the number of one of our translators. Please contact us as soon as you receive this. BTS would like to get into contact with their last soulmate and meet you.”

You wasted no time in calling the number, not even thinking if your phone plan had international calling or not. It didn’t occur to you that it could be midnight where they were, you just had the urgency to call them, to see if they were real.

When the translator heard her phone ring, shock and excitement moved throughout the room. Everyone had been waiting in one of the hang out rooms within HYBE, waiting for the slight chance that the boys’ last soulmate would see their message.

“Answer the phone!” Jimin couldn’t help but yell, not wanting you to have to wait too long and think they were ignoring you. He wouldn’t blame you in the slightest if that thought went through your head.

When Sejin gave the translator the go ahead, a simple nod, she answered the phone call and put it on speaker.

“Hello? Is this Miss, Y/n?” The translator spoke through the phone, causing your eyes to widen.

“Uhm, yes, it is. Can I ask who this is?” You wanted to be sure, needed to be sure that this was real.

“This is Sohye with HYBE. I am one of the translators with BTS. Is it okay if I switch this to facetime so we can be sure of your identity before we move any further?” Oh, wow, she was quick with this. It makes sense; you wouldn’t want to give any information out to just anyone.

“Uhm, okay, please just give me one moment.” You answer back, moving to place your phone against your lamp so you could be seen within screen. It took only a couple seconds for your phone to alert that the translator requested a video call. Taking a deep breath, you accepted the call only to be face to face with Sejin.

You were not expecting right away to meet one of the people who had always been by the boys’ side. Everyone loved Sejin for how he treated the boys and took care of them.

“Hello Miss Y/n. If it’s okay with you, I would just like to verify your Soul Connection identification number.” It looks like he has a phone in his hands, and when you start reciting your id number, he seems to follow along on the phone. 

Since your soul mark was only unique to you within your soul bond, it wouldn’t exactly indicate you were their soulmate, as so many have seen their marks throughout the years and have tried to tattoo the mark on their own skin, pretending to be their last soulmate. 

“Okay. Thank you! Well, it seems like you are who you say, so I would like to start with saying thank you for reaching out to us. The boys are ready to talk with you now, unless you have any questions first?” Sejin looks behind the camera before gesturing for someone to move back. A small sigh leaves his lips.

You have so many questions but don’t know if you can even ask them. You want to know why they only just put their bracelets on. Did they even want you? They had been together as a soulgroup for so long, you feel like you would only be messing things up. You had almost nothing in common with the boys, would you even fit in socially?

“Miss Y/n?” Sejin sees the tears pooling in your waterline, can see your lip trembling. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you look away from the camera really quick.

“What’s going on?”

“Why is she quiet?”

“Is she okay?” Sejin turns to the boys, shaking his head as their questions, motioning them to wait a second.

“Miss Y/n, we can take a break if you need. We can call you back later.” Sejin suggests, and you want to take it but know that if you do, you will ignore the call. You wouldn’t have the courage any longer.

“No, uh, it’s okay. I-I don’t have any questions.” You manage to choke out as you try to hold your emotions back. You didn’t need any of them to see you break down.

“Okay. I will hand you over to the boys then.” Sejin reluctantly moves over so the boys can take his spot. Once they do, they see you visibly regulating your breathing. The tears you’re holding back immediately make Jimin start crying.

It was quiet for a couple minutes as you and the boys take in each other. You weren’t exactly sure how to start a conversation, and neither was Namjoon. They weren’t sure if you knew any Korean, but they also didn’t want to have to use a translator every time they wanted to talk to you.

“Hi.” Surprisingly, Jungkook was the one to start the conversation, his smile almost blinding as he looked at you. He couldn’t believe that you saw their message and called them. He was hoping every second that you might put the bracelet back on and see their matches. He wondered if you read his messages.

“Hello.” Your voice had them wanting to touch the stars, see if they shined as brightly, felt as warm. And when you shyly waved at them, Yoongi wanted to clutch his heart in his hands and offer it to you on a silver platter.

All of them wondered how they could have gone this long not knowing about you, not having you by their side. They could all feel the missing piece in their souls, the ache that teetered on painful as they looked at you, fiddling with the stack of bracelets on your left wrist, just barely covering your soulmark.

You were nervous, and they didn’t blame you.

“We’re sorry.” Taehyung had gotten tired of the silence, wanting to talk with you. He wanted to know everything he could about his baby soulmate. He wanted this awkward time to be over and for you to be with them.

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t know.” And it was true. It was one of the thoughts that crossed your head as you looked at them. You could see their red eyes and puffy cheeks, evidence of their crying.

However, they knew that you had it worse. They didn’t know you existed, they spent ten happy years together while you had none. You knew they existed and waited years for them. Nothing they felt right now could compare to what you did.

“But you did.” And with Taehyung’s words, you broke.

They watched you bring your knees to your chest and place your head on them, sobs breaking through your lips as you tried and failed to hold them in. Namjoon’s hands clenched in his lap at the fact he couldn’t just bring you into his lap right then and there. They couldn’t comfort you.

“Please, baby, do not cry.” Hobi’s english was soft and had you looking up at them.

“You have every right to be upset with us. We forever wish we put those bracelets on sooner. But we cant take that back, no matter how much we want to. What we can do, is work hard in the future to make you as happy as we can. We can only hope that you still want us…” Namjoon finally spoke up, trying his hardest to put all of his emotions into his voice. He wanted you to know that they were willing to do anything to make up the past ten years to you.

“You have to realize, I never thought I would meet my soulmates. I went years thinking you didn’t want me and that was why you didn’t wear your bracelets. That you were happier without me. Who would want a disabled soulmate?” You chuckled at your own deprecating humor, not even seeing the way their jaws clenched in anger.

Who in the world would ever think that? Jin couldn’t help but think after the translator finished. He wanted to hurt whoever planted that in your head.

“I know you read my messages. I went through a lot these past couple years and have a lot of baggage. I have bad days where I can barely walk to the bathroom, and I have good days where I end up pushing my limits because I feel no pain. I need you to really think if you still want me before I end up getting my hopes up and you change your mind.” You lay it all out for them. Every one of your thoughts condensed into a single minute. You didn’t want to meet the, feel the bond and start to fall only for them to not catch you in the end.

“Come stay with us.” Yoongi’s tone was cool as he suggested, like he had everything planned out. Everyone’s eyes widened at his words.

“What?” You managed to ask, wondering if you heard him correctly.

“Come stay with us. We want you and this bond more than anything. Ever since we found out about you, we have spent countless hours reading every message, searching for any sign of your whereabouts and who you were. Let us show you how much we want you. You won’t have to worry about anything when you are with us. Give us a chance to get to know each other. Get to know us before you decide that we won’t catch you.” You always thought that Yoongi was eloquent, but to hear the translation from the translator… you almost wanted to start sobbing again.

You’ve never had anyone outside of your family try to fight for you. Even your friends since childhood wouldn’t fight for you this much. You’ve never really had anyone beg you for your presence. Beg you to give them a chance.

“I—I don’t have the money for a plane ticket.” Were the only words you could articulate at the moment. Everything seemed to blindside you and your brain was overwhelmed. It wasn’t an excuse. Your coping mechanism was humor, and you didn’t want to breakdown again as you knew you were fated to if you said you would give them the chance.

“Don’t worry about that. Let your soulmates handle everything.” Jin was the one to speak this time, a wink accompanying his words. You remember him saying he did that when he was nervous or feeling awkward.

“Can we, uhm, have your number?�� Jimin asked, wiping the tears off his cheek. He hadn’t stopped crying the entire time, too much emotion spilling from him now that he was able to see you and hear your voice.

You nod your head before giving it to them, all seven of them and Sejin putting it into their contacts before messaging you so you would have their own numbers. You were quick to receive a selfie from Jungkook, a message saying hello accompanying the picture.

“Please don’t be afraid to message us. We will always make time for you. Also, please let us know when the earliest we could have you fly out.” Namjoon smiled at you, his phone in hand as he tried to memorize your number.

“Well, I work from home, so I can pretty much work anywhere. I need to get some luggage first though and a couple of other things.” Before you could say they could get you a flight for next week, you notice Hoseok has his phone out.

“Don’t worry about the luggage. You can send Hoseok your address and he will have some from our favorite brand delivered.” You felt like your eyes were going to be permanently widened from the number of surprises that kept coming your way.

You wanted to object but from the look they were sending you, you figured it would be better to not argue with them. So, you nodded your head and sent the older man your address, slightly uncomfortable with them knowing it but you knew they would probably ask for it sooner or later.

“What’s your favorite color, love?”

“It’s this light blue color.” You turn to grab your favorite water bottle and bring it close to the camera to show them. They all nod like they were taking notes before looking off screen for a second.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, but we have a meeting to attend with our directors. Thank you so much for giving us a chance and we will definitely talk to you soon.” Namjoon’s dimple smile had your full attention as everyone said their goodbyes and promises of contact. Even as you said goodbye and the video call was ended, you had their bright smiles burnt into your cornea.

After checking to see if your phone still had some charge to it, you were quick to go to your phone app again, this time to your recent calls list.

“Hey, so I think your joke isn’t so much of a joke anymore…”

Next Chapter

[morallyinept]

HELLO & WELCOME TO THE PEDRO PASCAL FANDOM! 👋🏻

I'd just like to take a moment to say hello and a big welcome to all my recent followers & mutuals. How wonderful that you're here! So exciting!!

My name's Jett and I'm so happy that you're here in the Pedro fandom, and you're all so welcome here at my place too! 🖤

I'd also like to share with you some hints and tips on navigating this fandom and Tumblr.

Perhaps this is your first time in a fandom, or using a site like Tumblr, and I can appreciate how daunting it can feel. I've been there. Trust me. 🥴

But don't worry - I've got your back. We all have.

I hope you find it helpful, and if you have any questions, or just want to say hello back, please feel free to reach out. 🖤

Fandom is a different experience for everyone. You get out what you put in.

What do I mean by that?

Well, fandom is an inclusive place, for everyone to come together in mutual admiration and respect for, in this case, Pedro Pascal. It's a hub to share, create and get excited about content, and to make new friends.

It's NOT a place for divisiveness, hate or toxicity, although sadly it exists here in small pockets, as it does in any fandom. 😑

The best piece of advice I can give to you, is to be respectful.

Be respectful in the way you conduct yourself. Be respectful to your mutuals and followers, and to the blogs you follow. Be respectful to Pedro. As much as we all write fanfic about his characters (and some choose to write about him; that's their prerogative, although I personally don't), he is a human being, not a piece of meat.

It's perfectly fine to get excited, to fantasize and daydream, we all do it. We all get thirsty, let's face it. That Pedro fountain is flowing. 💦 But be mindful about blurring the lines between fantasy and reality.

Have fun, that's why you're here. I'm not your mom, but always remember to respect each other. (I'm fairly certain your mom would have told you that, however.)

If you are subject to any negativity or toxicity whilst here - and hopefully you never will be as the majority of us in this fandom are friendly, approachable and lovely, if but a bit excitable - but if you do experience it, the best thing to do is to ignore it.

Block, delete and move on. Don't feed into it or be a part of the problem.

If you have an ageless or empty blog, chances are you will be blocked.

Tumblr has a massive bot problem. 🤖 Specifically a porn bot problem.

It's easy for us to spot a fake blog or a bot that follows us. They usually have an empty bio, no icon, or their icon is an AI generated image of a scantily clad female. We all block them. 🚫

Most, if not all, writers in the Pedro fandom (and other fandoms too) write smut. We love it. And we know you do too, it's probably why you're here. But we are responsible writers, or try to be as responsible as we can be, by ensuring that no minors under the age of 18, to our knowledge, are reading our smutty fics.

So, if you have a blog that doesn't have your age on it, chances are you'll be blocked. We're protecting ourselves and we're protecting you.

Unfortunately, Tumblr is working against new users of the site in the fact that they now ask you to follow a few blogs BEFORE your profile bio is able to be set up or edited. I know, counterproductive right? So chances are you're getting blocked even before you start. 😖

I'd urge you to add your age onto your blog at the very least. It's okay to have an anonymous profile if you want to, but please, please tell us your age. Otherwise we will have no choice but to block you.

The RE-BLOG button is the only button you need.

Look at this:

The icon in green is the RE-BLOG button, the two arrows.

You'll find this at the bottom of every single blog post, including your own. Look at the difference in the numbers here. See how they differ from the RE-BLOG to the likes, the heart icon?

Yeeeeah. We don't want that disparity. We want that RE-BLOG icon to be the biggest number on our posts.

And here is where you can help with this:

PRESS THIS RE-BLOG BUTTON. DON'T STOP PRESSING THIS RE-BLOG BUTTON. LOVE THIS BUTTON. RE-BLOG EVERYTHING YOU LIKE!

Tumblr doesn't work like Instagram, Twitter/X or other social media platforms where 'likes' drive content to be seen. Here on Tumblr RE-BLOGGING is what gets our stories onto your home feed for you to see them and enjoy.

If you don't RE-BLOG, our posts get lost and have very little engagement, and that is why your favourite writers then stop writing and leave the site.

RE-BLOG, RE-BLOG, RE-BLOG everything you like and love. I cannot stress that enough.

Likes are nice, but they do absolutely nothing. Zilch. Nada. Bupkis.

Well, that's not technically true. Likes tell me that you've seen my post. That's it.

Annnnd what can I do with that info? Nothing. That's what.

RE-BLOGGING the post tells me however that you've enjoyed it, loved it even. That makes me very happy and inspires me to carry on writing fics that you'll (hopefully) enjoy.

Pressing the heart icon works like a bookmarking feature on Tumblr rather than a liking feature as you're probably used to from other social media sites. And the more things you like here, the more your older likes get pushed to the bottom of your epically long like list, to be forgotten about and will probably never see the light of day again.

Personally, I like to use the like button as a way of bookmarking something to come back to later and then I will RE-BLOG it once I've read it.

There is no limit to the amount of times you can RE-BLOG the same post, but you can only like it once. That should tell you that liking something here on Tumblr has no effect.

Tumblr is all about encouraging engagement through RE-BLOGS, the algorithm does nothing if you press the like button and move on.

By all means, give that heart icon a press, but please also RE-BLOG it at the same time. We will absolutely love you for it!

☝🏻And be mindful of going on a mass liking spree - Tumblr doesn't like that and neither do we. It's a quick way for you - and us - to get shadow-banned and Tumblr will think you're a bot. And being shadow-banned is incredibly annoying for everyone involved. Trust me. 😖

Talk to us. We love it!

We love getting positive/constructive feedback on our work. We love engaging or interacting with you. I certainly love receiving and responding to any comments, DM's or ASKS that I'm lucky enough to get.

But again, ensure you're respectful.

Tumblr has created an ASK feature where you can ask us a question, and you also have the option of asking us that question anonymously if you'd like.

If you do use the anonymous (anon) option on your ASK, be aware that we have the right to ignore or delete your ask if you're being a jerk. Don't be a jerk.

This feature is for someone to interact with us anonymously if they're shy. Not to be abused to send hate or negativity our way.

You'll find the ASK button on the main page of anyone's blog that has it activated, just below their bio.

And Tumblr has made it easy for us now to see if you're a mutual of ours, even if you're asking on anon FYI. So we can narrow it down to finding you if you do happen to be a jerk... just saying.

Be respectful in your comments, DM's, ASKS and RE-BLOGS.

Yes, you can leave comments on your RE-BLOGS too. Another reason for you to press that RE-BLOG button.

If you use something, always give credit to the source/creator where possible.

One way to garner enemies in any social media space is to use something that isn't yours, without crediting the source.

Now, it's impossible to physically ask everyone if you can use their content, however Tumblr makes this very easy for you to do that in most cases.

Yep, RE-BLOG IT.

RE-BLOGGING leaves a clear trail back to the original poster for everyone to see.

Now, if you use something without re-blogging, which you can absolutely do when you create your own blog posts from scratch, you should give credit to anything you use in your post that is not something you have originally created yourself.

Perhaps there is a GIF you like, for example. You can post it, but you should absolutely give credit by tagging the blogger/creator who created that GIF. (Tumblr also has their own selection of GIFS you can use FYI, and when you do they automatically add the original creator's tag at the bottom of it. Easy!)

And this should be respected if you use another's person's art or writing too.

Now, I could quite happily sit here and tell you all about copyright law, but we'd be here forever and frankly it's a boring topic and I'd rather you get out there and read all the awesome fics you're going to discover instead.

But, in a nutshell, any picture of Pedro you post, does not belong to you, no matter how many times you write your user name all over it.

Look, we all do it; we all like to make our edits, our banners, our covers look wizard, and I do it myself. But what we can't do is claim ownership or copyright to it.

Some people will try; they'll get pissy if you use something that they claim they found first or is "theirs" because they plastered their user name all over it... putting your username on something does absolutely nothing FYI.

☝🏻No-one can claim copyright or ownership to any image of Pedro, unless they physically took that photo themselves and can back it up with evidence should they be challenged legally.

My advice here is to always credit the source on anything you want to use, i.e. where you found it and tag or link back to the original content creator where possible.

If you're unsure where it originates from, you can still use it, but just make a note in your post somewhere about not knowing who it belongs to etc... so the original creator can advise you later.

Again, it just all boils down to being respectful.

And if you're ever not sure if you can, or should, use something, reach out to that creator on Tumblr and ask. They'll appreciate it, regardless if they give you permission or not.

Hoo, we sure covered a lot here...

I hope you've found this post useful at the very least. For a more extensive use of Tumblr you can easily use the search function, or via Google if there is a particular setting or something you need help with, or reach out and ask someone. This Pedro community is incredibly welcoming and helpful.

And if they're not, well you let me know and I'll send the Pedro Boys to sort them out. 🫡

If you enjoyed this, and did indeed find it useful, you know what to do:

RE-BLOG IT!

Now, get out there and have some fun exploring and reading!

Stay Kind. Stay Creamy. 🖤

🖤

GIF of Dieter Bravo from @miguelo-hara 🖤

[citadelsanchez]

Greetings, our dearest and best writer in the entire history of ever, could I interest you in a little scenario where Rick takes y/n and Morty on a little adventure and leaves y/n alone for a moment to meet up with a "contact" only to come back to y/n being surrounded by people and HEAVILY flirted with? I'd just love to imagine the look on Rick's face when y/n spots him with this helpless puppy look as they try to fend off suitors,,,

Hi. Been a minute since I've posted. Holidays and all that, plus I'm in the process of moving states so I apologize! I promise that I will still be slowly working on these. <3 anyways,, hope you enjoy.

((Gender neutral reader))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Um.. I dunno, Jerry," you muttered uncomfortably. You were currently sat between Morty and Jerry on the Smiths' couch, and got caught in the middle of the two boys having a debate over Interdimensional Cable. Jerry insisted that he was best friends with Keanu Reeves and Dwayne Johnson in his alternate reality. Morty claimed that even in a different reality he'd never be cool enough for that to be true.

"Well it's nice to be reminded just how much of a loser my own son thinks I am. Y/N, what's your opinion on this?" Jerry asked.

You awkwardly shrugged as you checked your phone and hoped they would just stop talking altogether.

"Hey dipshits, is there some valid reason that you didn't come to the garAAGe when I called your names?"

You turned your head to see none other than Rick entering the living room to stand over you and Morty with his arms crossed.

"W-we never heard you call us," Morty spoke.

Rick scoffed. "Well you just heard me. Get to moving" he said, keeping stern eye contact with you before stalking back towards the garage.

You and Morty glance at each other before hesitantly getting up to obey his command, you're both used to his formidable attitude and being too overcome with curiosity to argue.

When you make it to the garage, Rick is already in his ship ready to depart.

"Get in, come the fuck on" he calls out harshly.

Morty stumbles in and you take your place in the back, wedging your legs between the middle of the floor between their seats.

"So what are we doing, specifically?" You ask, watching as Rick expressionlessly drives the ship. Adventures didn't phase you at all anymore; it had been about a full year now since you've started going on them with your esteemed older mentor and his grandson. The scenery never really made a difference anymore but the objective behind the adventures did.

"Just- it's just a compound I need for a project, that's all."

"That wasn't what I'd call specific" you frown, staring at his side profile.

"It's perfectly specific in being all the information that I care to give out," Rick retorts, throwing you an annoyed look.

"Geeez Rick," Morty adds.

You roll your eyes and decide not to further press the issue. You're no stranger to Rick's many moods and abusive jabs, but usually you were able to pinpoint reasons for them, even if small. Sometimes, though, it seemed deeper than what you could read into and you knew to just leave it be. It wasn't like he would relay his true emotions to anyone.

The ship whirred to a halt as you looked outside of the windows to see a lively city filled with people entering and exiting eccentric shops. Most of the inhabitants seemed to have a masculine appearance, some taking on hybrid human and alien features. Some were strange creatures altogether, and some looked to be completely human.

The three of you climb out of the ship as Rick starts talking. "Alright, so I've got to tend to my business. You two stay here and don't die."

He looks between you and Morty, a sense of guilt almost marking his face before the typical scowl replaces it. "I-If you can't manage that, use this to let me know." Rick shoves a device with a giant blue button in your hands now.

"Good luuUUCk" He burps before walking off into the crowd of humanoids and disappearing from sight.

"Wow, he's really on it today, huh Y/N?" Morty says, puzzled.

"Something's off, I can tell. I need to find out what it is," You respond. "Rick has obviously left us in the dark before but this just doesn't feel right."

Just as you're about to take stride to follow Rick, several warlock resemblant men surround you, blocking your path. Their curious inquiries spill out all at once.

"Look at this specimen, Norpel. Definitely not from around here."

"What's your name, gorgeous?"

"I was told not to touch the aliens that visit but I almost can't resist."

You take a step back and sigh in frustration. Damn you, Rick.

"And you're dead set on using this formula and enduring it's possible side effects, Rick?"

Rick frowned, irked by the fact that his colleague wouldn't just provide him with what he asked for without a 20 questions game.

"Yes, Shabablurb, I'm completely positive."

The mysterious man turned to face the older scientist. "I just have to make sure. I'll go get it then."

Rick tapped his foot as he waited and his mind wanders back to you once again. Your gentle eyes of compassion, your sometimes rare but always bright smile, your soft hair. The inside jokes you two came to have, the gentle touches you give him when he's not being an asshole, the way his entire family cherishes your presence. How he feels about you- he knows the feeling and knows it well. Which is why he needs to get rid of it.

Shabablurb re-enters the room with a vial. "Okay, one and done. I'm not here to judge any of your decisions but just remember Rick, that once you take this, you won't be able to remember an-"

"I got it. Thanks. I'm out."

Rick snatched the compound from the man's hand and began making his way back to Morty and Y/N.

He was starting to wonder if you two had went to a bar or club somewhere when he heard your voice, wavering and meek. Unusually out of character for you.

"Hey stop, don't, back up- don't touch me please."

Rick narrowed his eyes at the crowd he was walking through, pushing past everyone to reach the sound of your voice.

Many feet away, Morty was nowhere in sight but he caught a glimpse of your face, flush with panic and anxiety, as the strange men continued to prod you and several attempting to grab a part of you- your clothes or body.

Your eyes meet Rick's and he can clearly see the plea for help in them as one creature grabs hold of your shirt and begins yanking it.

Rick feels his anger start to surge. He removes his laser gun from his coat and fires it at the crowd, freezing some suitors in place and burning holes in others. Once you're no longer engulfed in bodies, he finds the job satisfactory.

"R-Rick, thank you," you murmur while he walks over, embarrassed by the scene that just played out. You gently brush your fingers over his hand after he puts his gun away and he stares at you with an unreadable expression.

"Rick?"

"Uh yeah, sorry. Glad I could save the day. They w-would've had a feast with you."

Your cheeks flush although you're not sure in what context Rick was even referring to.

In honesty, neither was he. All that was consuming his mind were second guesses. Guilt and pain that clutched his chest with a deathly grip. And a single question ringing in his head.

How could he make himself forget about you?

[badkitty3000]

Addicted

Sometimes our bodies get a taste of something so good that it's nearly impossible to quit. No matter how bad it is for us. And right now that something is Five Hargreeves.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

This is a short one shot I decided to write on a whim. I am new to posting on Tumblr, but you can check out my full works here on AO3. This one is also a bit different than my other works, as it's more abstract.

I am open to requests, so if you have any Five-centric one shots you'd like me to write, please feel free to ask under the Ask Me Anything button on my profile. I've also never asked for requests before, but I will do my best to fulfill them!

Addicted:

You can’t stop looking at the clock. An hour must have gone by, but when you check it again, it’s only been a few minutes. The night is going by at a crawling pace and as the seconds tick by, the more your anxiety is growing.

Don’t do it

You’re better than this

You’ve been doing so well

You don’t need him

Don’t do it

It doesn’t matter, though. You can tell yourself a thousand times to stop thinking about him, but it’s not going to stop. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve cursed yourself for caving in and calling him. It’s an endless loop of want and regret.

You know how it’s going to go, that’s the pathetic part. You know you’re going to feel like shit the next day, and the day after that, and for another week after that. That’s how it always goes. And yet, you keep giving in. You keep punishing yourself.

Because, god damn it, he makes you feel good.

He’s your addiction. Your drug. And you’re constantly chasing that high.

Just thinking about it, about him, makes your skin hot and you can’t sit still. You’re jittery and pacing, and it’s all-consuming. The more you try to push it from your mind, the harder it comes crashing back. Second by second, minute by minute; he’s creeping into your brain, moving in, and taking up residence.

You’re sitting at home with nothing for company except some bourbon. Bourbon that reminds you of him. And you know you’re going to do it. It’s after one in the morning but you know he’s awake. Just one phone call and he’ll be there. No matter what you said to him the last time, he’ll pretend nothing is wrong and he’ll come anyway.

You know how it’s going to go, too. It’s the same every time. You’ll talk a little, have a drink or two, and wait until the tension eases. Then you’ll start to notice all of the little things that drive you crazy. The casual way he leans back, crossing one leg over the other. The way he looks at you, with that stupid self-satisfied smirk, and that fucking dimple in his cheek. And his hands. His hands doing anything, really. God, you love his hands.

Then you’ll look at him in some way; you’re not sure how, but he’ll know. He’ll lean in towards you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body and smell the faded scent of after shave that was put on much earlier in the day. He’ll lean in with that intense gaze of his, scanning your body and then your face; green eyes flashing and dark brows furrowing. He’ll reach out and touch you in some way. Maybe your hand, or your cheek; it doesn’t matter. One touch and you’re fucking toast.

The next few hours will go by in a blur. Skin slicked with sweat, lungs gasping for air, bodies tangled together. It will be everything you need and want, and fuck, it will feel so good. Until it doesn’t.

But right now, as you check the clock for what has to be the twentieth time in the last five minutes, you’ve convinced yourself that you don’t care. And you pick up your phone.

You could text, but he hates texting and it’s just easier to call. You want to hear his voice, anyway. Like some weird little mental appetizer before the main course. You take a sip from your glass, the condensation dripping onto your phone screen.

“You know it’s the middle of the night,” he says as a way of a greeting, and you can hear the smug smile forming on his face.

“Is it? Oh, sorry, I hadn’t noticed,” you reply, trying to match his usual snark.

There’s a slight pause. “I thought you said you were done with me.”

You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or if he’s genuinely confused. “Yeah, I did say that.”

“You said I was an insensitive asshole,” he reminds you.

“And I stand by that statement.”

There’s another pause and you can hear the phone shifting a bit. “So, were you just calling to remind me of that, or was there something else I can do for you?”

Of course, he’s teasing you now. He knows damn well why you’re calling. But he’s going to make you say it.

You clear your throat a bit. “Yeah well…I can’t sleep and I don’t know anyone else that stays up this late so…”

“So, you thought maybe I could help you sleep?”

Fuck, you really hate him right now! But, sure, why not? This little charade of yours isn’t going to last much longer anyway.

“Yes, actually, that’s exactly what I thought.”

There’s a second of silence and you know he’s thinking about whether or not to continue to draw this out and really make you sweat, or to put you out of your misery.

“I did just get back from a job. I haven’t showered yet.”

Dammit, you’re already feeling the dampness between your legs at that little visual. Which is exactly why he said it.  

“I don’t mind. You can shower here.”

There’s a low, quiet laugh on the other end and you roll your eyes at your desperateness.

“Alright. Be there soon.”

After you hang up, the only thing you can do is wait. And torture yourself even more by running through some very graphic scenarios in your mind. You pour another drink for yourself, and one for him, too. Then you wait some more.

You know it won’t take him long to get there. You also know he won’t bother to knock or use the door. He’ll just appear, like some magical fuck genie, ready to grant you three earth shattering orgasms in the position of your choice.

You’re sitting there on your couch, with the only light coming from a small lamp on one of the side tables, when he warps in; a nanosecond of blue before it’s gone and it’s just him standing there. You sit up straighter when you see him, glass in hand. He gives you that knowing smirk and you give him one right back.

In the dim light, you can make out the lines of his body; the sharp angles of his face. You can see he really did just get back from a job, because he hasn’t bothered to change out of his suit. The jacket is unbuttoned and his tie is loosened. But otherwise, he’s the perfect picture of a suave executive or maybe a cologne model. Or an assassin.

When you stand up, you bring him the glass of bourbon you had poured, and he takes it from you, his fingers brushing against yours in the transfer. After he takes a sip, he looks at you with that same infuriating expression that makes you want to punch him right in his gorgeous face.

“Did you miss me?” he asks with a grin.

You smile and shake your head. “Not in the slightest. Did you miss me?”

“Nope. Not one bit.”

You’ve already decided you’re not going to draw this out. Why prolong the misery? The more time you take in trying to pretend this is something else, the more time it’s going to take for you to move on the next day. So, you’re going to cut straight to the chase this time. You take another step forward until you’re close enough to see the dark green of his eyes and the soft shadow of stubble on his face. Leaning in, you brush your body against his, tipping your face up, while at the same time hooking a finger into one of his belt loops, giving it a sharp tug. He makes a quiet grunting noise, his eyes meeting yours.

One corner of your mouth turns up. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just extremely happy to see me again?”

He raises one eyebrow, not moving. “Why don’t you find out.”

Without taking your eyes off of his, you move a hand to the front of his black fitted slacks and run a finger into the inside of the waistband. When you feel it, your smile grows bigger. As you pull out the pistol, you hold it in the palm of your hand, liking the weight of it and the sleek, simple design.

“I guess I was hoping for something else, but this is pretty fucking sexy, too.”

He only smiles and takes the gun from you, setting it on the coffee table, along with his drink.

“What? Don’t trust me?” you ask slyly.

When he grabs you around the waist and pulls you closer, the movement is swift and forceful.

“Absolutely not,” he answers before leaning down slowly, a few strands of hair falling forward and over his eye in the process.

His kisses start out soft, testing the waters, then gradually intensify. First a gentle brush against your mouth, then a playful bite on your lower lip. Soon he is slipping his tongue inside, breathing hard through his nose, and moving a hand to the back of your head.

If there had been even a tiny speck of resolve left in you before, it’s gone now. As soon as his lips are against yours, you give in. You will let him do anything to you without protest, you’re certain of that. And not just physically. You’re going to let him burrow into your brain again, pump your body full of dopamine and oxytocin, and start your addiction anew. You’re going to relapse hard and the withdrawal is going to suck.

But right before that…it’s going to feel so fucking good.

As he strips you of your clothes and your will power, you stand back and let him look at you. You know he likes this. He likes looking at your naked body, fully exposed for him and vulnerable. So, you’ll give it to him.

“Fuck…maybe I did miss you,” he says quietly as he takes you all in.

He starts to take off his jacket and pull his tie off, all while still looking you over. You can see what you couldn’t before; a splatter of blood on his white shirt. It’s not a lot, but it’s noticeable, and you know that it doesn’t belong to him. A normal person would be turned off by this. Sickened at the thought. But not you.

He sees you noticing, and he glances down at his shirt, and then back up at you. This isn’t the first time he’s shown up like this, wearing the evidence. And so, he knows. He knows your twisted little fantasies.

With his mouth twitching with arrogance, he steps closer to you again. His hands trail down your sides, and they are warm and familiar. He looks down at you while you bring your hands up to the spot on his shirt. It’s dried and has probably been there for a couple of hours now, having already turned a dark maroon color. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you start to unbutton his shirt.

“Blew his fucking head right off,” he says darkly, in the most fucked-up pre-game dirty talk in the history of the universe.

You let out a small whine, still working at his shirt. Your hands push greedily inside of it, pressing your palms onto the hard curves of his pecs, then running them over his tight shoulders.

“With that same gun?” you ask without looking up.

“Yes.”

“Mmm…” you muse, resuming your undoing of buttons. “Did he beg for his life first?”

“Crying on his knees,” he tells you, and you’re not even sure if he’s telling the truth. He just knows what you want to hear.

His shirt is fully open now and you look up at him while your hands find his flat abdomen and his waistband again. You feel him grip harder into your sides and his breath is coming faster. You know what you’re feeling now isn’t the gun, and you press your palm over the front of his pants, watching his eyes close shut for a moment in response.

It didn’t take much for you to go from want to need to desperation, and you’re already dripping wet for him. You unbuckle his belt and open his pants much faster than you did his shirt. He’s fully hard and when your hand grazes over his cock he groans, digging his fingers even harder into your waist.

“How many shots?”

You’re already pulling him by his shirt collar with both hands, walking backwards and taking him with you as you ask. When you fall onto the couch, he answers while he positions himself over you.

“Two. Right to the fucking head.”

You free his cock from his pants in one quick movement, and then he’s pushing himself inside you as you cry out, clutching at his arms and throwing your head back.

You’ll never get tired of this euphoria. Of the sudden rush of endorphins when his dick slides in and he’s pumping into you. No one else does this to you. No one else makes you feel like you’re going insane. Like you’re shifting into another reality. He gives your outer thigh a swift smack and you raise your legs up higher, spreading them wide, just like he wants.

He’s holding himself up with his hands on the armrest behind your head, the muscles in his arms flexed and hard as he pounds into you. He’s not saying anything, not yet anyway, but the loud panting of his breath and rhythmic clinking of his belt buckle fills your ears. Your own moans grow louder by the second and you can see that smug look cross his face, because he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

But, fuck, if that look doesn’t make him even hotter. Bastard.

You spy that dark red stain on his shirt again, and you picture the scene he described to you. When you turn your head, you can see the black pistol lying on the table, just a few feet from you. The same one that was used to splatter a man’s head all over the walls and the floor, and onto its owner.

You’re gasping his name and frantically grabbing at his body when he gives one more punishing thrust, making you come hard and loudly underneath him. The waves spread over your body and they don’t seem to stop; one after another as you buck into him. He’s soon to follow, stiffening against you with a low groan, emptying himself and filling you up until his body starts to relax. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck for just a moment and you feel his lips graze your skin before he moves off of you.

As you both lie sprawled on opposite ends of the couch, trying to slow your breathing, he eventually looks over. He smiles in that way that is somehow already resetting and rewetting your aching groin. You return it with your own hazy smile; too high and fucked-out to pretend not to care.

He pushes his hair off his face with his hand, shoving his dick back in his pants, and leans toward you, kissing you with a gentle hand on your cheek. You hate when he’s soft like this. It fucks with your mind even more than he already does. But your lips respond without hesitation and you melt into his hand.

“I really did miss you,” he tells you, pressing his forehead against yours.

You want to cry and push him away. It’s not fair! He’s enabling you and playing into your weakness. And even if you’re the one that had broken down and called, it’s still not fair. He knows it’s a sickness.

“I missed you, too,” you whisper, because you can’t self-sabotage yourself enough.

After another kiss, he pulls back and takes his unfinished drink off the table, settling into the couch while you get up to throw your panties back on. You tip back your own glass and empty the contents in one swallow, taking in the absurdly sexy image in front of you. He’s leaning casually back into the cushions, his pants still unbuttoned and unzipped; white dress shirt fully open and untucked; messy dark hair falling across his forehead.

It would be so satisfying to kick him out right now. But Jesus fucking Christ, just look at him!

Instead, you give in like you always do and join him, resting your head on his chest with one hand on his bare stomach, your legs curled up next to you. He strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head while you sigh, letting your body relax into his.

He won’t be leaving yet, that’s not his game. He likes the companionship and your adoration. He’ll stay through most of the night, while you both talk and have a few more drinks. He’ll fuck you again in the shower, while you cling to his body and he pounds you into the cold, slippery tiles. He’ll fuck you in your bed, slowly and lazily, covering your body in soft kisses that will make you weak and forgetful.

He’ll make you come a few more times, leaving you gasping for air with his cum dripping out of you and your thighs burning. Your sheets will smell like him for days because you won’t be able to bring yourself to change them.

In the dark, he'll tell you more things you want to hear. I missed you. You’re so beautiful. I want you. I need you. He’s not cruel and he’s not a liar. He means the things he says. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stay. He never will, and you know it. The full reason for it, you’re not sure. Insecurities, trauma, secrets…so many secrets. No matter how many times you’ve poured your heart out, bathed him in reassurances, and cursed him until you were red in the face and crying. He will never stay.

You know what tomorrow and the next week or more will bring. The withdrawal symptoms will kick in and it will be hell. This won’t be cold sweats, shakes, and waves of nausea. It will be tears, self-hatred, and all-encompassing shame.

But he’s here now. And you drink in the scent of him. Sweat, sex, bourbon. All mixed together and highlighted with a slight twinge of copper. It’s better than any upper or downer or anything else that can be cooked up in a lab. It’s fucking maddening and you can’t get enough.

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as you rub your cheek over his chest.

“Thanks for calling.”

“This is the last time, though, I mean it. I can’t keep doing this,” you lie.

“I know. This is the last time,” he lies in return.

He places another soft kiss to your temple, reaffirming what you already know. That he will be your ultimate down fall. Your rock bottom.

But damn, it’s going to feel so fucking good on the way down.

Link to my Master List

[honeypiehotchner]

man after midnight (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Happy New Year! I had this idea on NYE when I remembered I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss lol. Here’s to Hotch giving us a New Year’s kiss instead 🥰

Summary: The team goes out for a New Year’s Eve party and it ends in the best way possible.

Warnings: mostly none, besides alcohol consumption (be responsible!), otherwise pure fluff to start out the new year right :))

WC: ~1.9k

All you did was mention once that you have never gone to a New Year’s Eve party, and look where you’ve ended up.

At a karaoke bar on December 31st with your entire team from the BAU — even Hotch.

It’s different having Hotch here too. You’ve gone out with Derek, Emily, JJ, Penelope, and sometimes Spencer and Rossi before, but never Hotch. You’ve always been grateful for Hotch not partaking in the team outings because he does not need to see you drunk. You start talking too freely and spilling secrets.

It’s how the girls found out about your crush on Hotch. Thank god Derek was in the restroom when you said it. He’d tease you relentlessly. The girls do, but not in front of Hotch, like you know Derek would.

Needless to say, you’re watching your alcohol intake — and the table of profilers is noticing.

“Are you feeling alright, momma?” Derek asks with a nudge to your arm.

“Hm? What? Yeah, why?” You try to cover your nerves with a grin, but it doesn’t work.

Hotch is across the table from you, talking with Rossi, directly in your line of sight, and it’s unnerving. Hotch just had to wear his black button up tonight, the one you love to see him in. You practically drooled the first time he wore it. That was embarrassing when Emily caught you staring.

“Something’s bothering you,” Derek says. He gestures to your glass of wine. “You’ve been nursing that for an hour.”

He’s right, and you’ve barely had half the glass. You desperately don’t want to make a fool of yourself, not in front of Hotch. You’re already doing karaoke later. That’s enough, right?

Apparently it isn’t, because Emily comes back to the table with the bartender in tow. “We’re doing shots!” she announces. “Everyone — even you two!” She points to Rossi and Hotch with a stern look.

Hotch tries to fight her on it, but the bartender still pours him a shot. You reluctantly take yours. It’s a slippery slope once you start doing shots, but if everyone is doing them, you might as well.

“On three, we clink,” Penelope says, grinning. “Ready?”

You can’t help but watch Hotch standing across from you. He smiles warily at you and tips his shot glass in a tiny salute of solidarity. He has looked nervous this whole night, too, but he never goes out. He’s so far out of his comfort zone.

“One, two, three!” Everyone toasts and taps the shot on the table before tossing it back.

It’s far too smooth going down. Warm, barely there, and you’re useless when it comes to resisting a second. And third.

“Okay, we should slow down,” Spencer says. You’re surprised he did all three. “If we want to maximize our—”

“Kid, kid,” Derek cuts him off with a laugh. “Quit doing statistics. Let loose.”

“I am loose. I just had three shots!”

They bicker back and forth for a few moments and you watch on with a smile, floating from the quick succession of shots. Thank god you weren’t tipsy before doing those.

You catch Hotch’s eyes across the table and widen your smile, almost involuntarily. He smiles back, and moves to come over to you.

Shit shit shit. The shots were fun, you feel slightly less anxious, but you can’t talk to him like this. You’ll say something ridiculous! Like how handsome he looks tonight, how sexy he looked taking those shots, how—

“How are you?” Hotch asks, whiskey glass in hand. He ordered a double and has been taking his time with it.

“Good,” you reply, blinking too quickly. He’s closer than you thought. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol. “How are you doing? You don’t normally come out for these things.”

He laughs a little. “Definitely not my usual Saturday night,” he says.

“Wait ‘til we start singing,” you blurt. “Then it really gets crazy.” You remember the one time Derek started essentially stripping onstage before Penelope drug him off. And the time Spencer sang “My Heart Will Go On” in the most screeching voice ever, just to make Derek lose his mind.

“I bet,” Hotch smiles. “Will you be singing?”

“Me?” you buffer, letting out a weak laugh. “Oh, I don’t— I mean, maybe, I’d need a song. I don’t have a go-to like everyone else.”

He shrugs. “I’m sure you’ll find something.” He takes a sip of his whiskey, smirking around the glass.

“You little shit!” you blurt. “You just want to see me look ridiculous!”

“Me? No, never.”

“Unbelievable,” you scoff playfully, picking up your wine glass. You’re this far gone, might as well go all in with everyone else. “Are you gonna sing?”

Ha! Gotcha! you think as his cheeks redden. “No,” he stammers, laughing. “I don’t sing.”

“Karaoke isn’t about being a good singer.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts,” you shake your head. “Pick a song, Hotchner. You’re singing.”

Emily eyes you two curiously and moves closer to JJ and Spencer. Conveniently, everyone has split into little groups, leaving you alone with Hotch. And you can’t help yourself.

It doesn’t help that he’s drinking just as much alcohol. His cheeks are beginning to have a permanent red tint. His smile is wider. He leans toward you when he talks. You’re a goner when he orders more whiskey for himself and another wine for you, knowing the exact kind you’re drinking despite not being here yet when you first ordered.

“Is this your first New Year’s Eve party?” you ask him, speaking over the current karaoke singer.

“First in a longgg time,” he says. “You?”

“First ever.”

“No. Really?”

“Really really.”

“Not even in college?”

“I wasn’t exactly popular enough in college to get invited out,” you laugh. “I bet you went to all of them.”

“No,” he shakes his head, but you know he’s fibbing. “Just some. I mean, my friends made me—”

“You so were popular in college!” you lean into him and shove his shoulder. “My god. Aaron Hotchner, the popular kid. Were you in a fraternity? Please say no. I don’t wanna know. No, right?”

He grins. “I wasn’t.”

You deflate from relief. “Thank god.”

“Have you picked a song yet?”

“Have you?”

“No, I’ve been busy,” he says with a shrug. “What’s your excuse?”

“I’ve also been busy.”

“With what?”

“I dunno. Ask the guy who’s been flirting with me for the past hour.”

He raises his eyebrows and you sober up for exactly one moment, scolding yourself. You did not just accuse your boss of flirting with you. Absolutely not. You’re a ridiculous mess of a fool.

Instead of telling you you’ve got it all wrong and apologizing for the mixed signals, Hotch only moves closer. “I’ll have a word with him, don’t worry.”

Oh god. You’re going to melt into the floor. He’s practically touching you and god you want him to.

As soon as the two of you have been staring into each other’s eyes for too long to be deemed friendly, the rest of the group reappears to discuss karaoke songs.

Somehow, you’re shoved onstage with Emily, JJ, and Penelope to sing “Gimmie! Gimmie! Gimmie!” by ABBA. You’re not even aware of what you’ve agreed to until the music starts, and the girls have mischievous grins on their faces.

You mainly focus on the girls to keep your nerves down while you sing, but soon you get the courage to look out into the audience. And Hotch is already looking at you.

As the chorus comes up, you decide to keep his gaze, hoping some switch will flip. It’s obvious both of you want a move to be made. Who will make it is still to be seen.

Once your song finishes, Derek drags Spencer onstage for one. You return to your spot by Hotch, right up against him, and he welcomes your presence, wrapping an arm loosely around your shoulders. If he wasn’t there for you to lean against, you would’ve melted into the floor.

“He’s really good,” you whisper, but you know it comes out louder than it should. You’re far too tipsy to whisper.

“Not as good as you were up there,” Aaron whispers back, leaning his head down so his lips are by your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Are you gonna get up there?”

He laughs, shaking his head, and he pulls you closer. “No, no I’m not.”

“Asshole,” you laugh, smacking his chest. “Well, I’m glad you came. Tonight. It’s been nice having you here.” You lean your head on his chest where you smacked him. His heart beats fast. “Why don’t you ever come out?”

You feel him shrug. “I didn’t know if I was welcome.”

You tilt your head upwards. “Really?” He nods. “Come on, Hotch, you’re always welcome.”

He looks down at you and smiles. He doesn’t say anything, but he pulls you closer, as if he can, leaving you to wrap your arms around his waist.

A few more songs are done before it’s five minutes to midnight, and the countdown is on the TV. Penelope finds her way into Morgan’s arms, of course, and the others are readying their shots.

“You know,” you start, glancing up at him. “I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

Hotch chuckles, looking down at you. “Well, we’ll have to fix that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he nods, shifting to wrap his arms around you better, resting his hands on your hips. “If you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” you blurt, maybe a little too quickly. “Sorry, yes. Yes, I’d like to.”

“Don’t apologize,” he grins.

You rest your hands on his arms, taking him in. Thank god for the alcohol, otherwise you’d be too aware of the team standing not that far from you. You’ll both hear about this tomorrow, definitely, but right now you’re not worried about that.

The countdown draws closer, 30 seconds more. 30 seconds of staring at each other, wondering if this will actually happen.

And it does, because he’s been wanting to do this for months, but never had the right time -- or the courage. Or the hint that you felt the same way. You’re far better at composing yourself than he is. He has no idea how you haven’t seen him blushing and fumbling his words.

“Now or never,” you joke, as it gets down to 10 seconds. “If you want to.”

“Of course I do,” Aaron echoes you from earlier. “Come here.”

The clock strikes midnight and your hands fall into place on either side of Aaron’s face. You both sigh into the kiss, a long time coming, and perfect now that it’s here. Cheers for the new year erupt all around the two of you as you stay in each other’s embrace, stealing kiss after kiss, not wanting the moment to end.

Derek Morgan’s infamous whistle breaks through the noise, leaving you and Hotch in a mess of laughter.

“Took you long enough, boss man!” Morgan yells, despite Penelope playfully swatting at him to stop.

“I agree,” you tease, tilting your gaze back up at Aaron. “Took you long enough.”

He laughs, and steals another kiss through your grin.

[mtfstuff]

Tinder swindler

"Never thought I'd get married before you.", Chris said taking a picture of me.

"I just didnt have luck finding the right person.", I answered.

He gave me back my phone.

"You look good on the picture. You could use it for a dating account. It doesnt hurt to look somewhere else. I mean, I found my Will through Grindr.", he said.

"Yeah, maybe I should look into it."

"If you want to stay a virgin when you turn 28 in two months, no one will stop you."

"Hey! You know I lost it before you did."

He chuckled.

"I know."

That night I couldnt sleep. I always thought about what Chris told me.

I turned on my lamp and took out my phone. I installed Grindr and made myself a profile. I entered my name, height, weight, what I like and want and at last I added some pictures.

It didnt take long and my inbox was flooded.  Many called me 'daddy' which was quite new for me. Most wanted to have me fuck them, let them worship me and move on but one message caught my eye.

A man called George. According to his profile he is 6,3ft, just like me and well build. He likes to bottom and is searching for a long time relationship.

He wrote 'you seem like a dream but I'm probably out of your league already'.

I answered 'You're definitely not out of my league'.

We started chatting and got to know each other. I felt connected to him immediately and we quickly agreed to go on a date next friday. We wrote each other every day.

It was finally friday afternoon and I got myself ready for my first date in a long time.

First I took a long shower.

I toweled myself dry and put on my boxer briefs. I left the bathroom and went to my wardrobe. I opened it and looked for a suit to wear.

I decided to wear a beige vest and pants with a light blue shirt and red tie. I slipped into my socks and stepped into the pants. I put on the shirt and buttoned it up before I tucked it into the pants. I tied my tie and put on the vest. I put on my watch and rings.

Now I had to choose a jacket and decided to go with a dark olive green one. I put it on and looked at my small collection of shoes.

I decided to go with my favorite pair of brown leather dress shoes.

I slowly slipped into them before lacing them. I loved them because they show little wear on the outside but they already molded themselves around my feet to fit perfectly as if they were custom made for me.

I took an uber and drove to the restaurant George and I agreed to date.

I sat at the table waiting for George to enter the building. I was staring at the front door, waiting to lay my eyes on his muscular frame.

I searched for him so much, that I didnt even looked at the chubby guy who entered and walked towards me.

He sat down and looked sheepishly at me.

"Hey Dean. Its awesome to meet you in person.", the man said.

I looked at him with big eyes. If he was George, I officially got catfished.

"Before you say anything or even stand up and leave, please let me tell you why I catfished you.", he continued. "The pictures on my profile are real only from 4 years ago. Shortly after I took them I had to get a big surgery on both of my legs and my right arm. I lost my muscles in no time as I couldnt go to the gym. You know, I'm sorry I did this to you but I lost so much confidence over the last few years and while I wrote to you, you were the nicest person I've ever met since then and I thought I had to take this chance. This chance to go on a date with one of the hottest men I've seen in my entire life."

He looked at me, probably waiting for my reaction but I couldnt speak it was as if someone was choking me.

"Please give me a chance. Only this date, I beg you. We can go separate ways after that, please.", he begged.

"Well,... I dont know what to say.", I finally got something out. "You lied pretty heavily in our chats now that I see you."

"I know, and I'm really sorry. I wanted to tell you but I thought that if I did you would never agree to meet me. I seem to be way out of your league."

"You dont know that.", I chuckled. "Only this date. And only because I dressed up for this."

"And you look marvelous!", he said.

"Thanks."

We started up a conversation and I was surprised how many things we really had in common. We talked, we laughed, we had dinner together. And maybe one, two drinks too much. We sat there together for more than 5 hours. The clock struck midnight and the restaurant wanted to close.

I wanted to call an uber for me and one for him, because he had paid for our complete dinner.

"I know you said only this date but maybe we could elongate this date by going to my apartment.", George asked.

Maybe I was too drunk to say no or I was somewhat attracted to him, I didnt know.

"Yeah, why not.", I answered. "I'm craving a relief right now."

"I can do that for you, I promise.", he smiled.

We called an uber and drove to his apartment. We entered the elevator and when the door closed, he pulled my face down to his. He began to kiss me passionately and I didnt push him away. The elevator rang and he pushed me out the door. I stumbled into a huge foyer, connecting multiple huge doors.

"You didnt tell me you had the suite of this building.", I said.

"Its not the suite but the penthouse.", he answered.

I turned around trying to soak it all in.

"Impressed?", he asked.

"Yeah, quite a bit."

He chuckled.

I turned around to see that he already had undressed himself quite a bit. He only wore his suit pants.

He pushed me into the bedroom. It felt like it was bigger than my whole apartment and on the far wall stood a huge king-sized bed. He pushed me ontop of it.

"You want some champagne?", he asked.

"Yeah, sure."

He opened the bottle that stood next to the bed and filled to glasses. He gave me one and we toasted. It didnt took long and the complete bottle was empty. I felt dizzy but it felt great.

"May I undress you Dean?", George asked.

"Sure.", I answered.

He slowly unlaced my right shoe and slipped it off my foot. He stuck his nose inside my shoe and took a deep breath.

"It smells so manly. I wish I would smell so good.", he said.

He unlaced my other shoe and sniffed it too. He let out a quiet moan. I wiggled my toes in my socks. To get his attention.

He pulled them off slowly and smelled them too.

"I love your style Dean. I mean I couldnt pull of these striped socks with those hot, hot, brown dress shoes.", he said taking another sniff of my socks.

"Well you can put them on to see if you can.", I said.

I dont know why I said it but I still did it. It felt like a slight layer of fog was clouding my mind.

George seemed happy as he pulled my socks over his own bare feet. He wiggled his toes inside them before he stepped into my dress shoes. He laced them up and looked at himself in the mirror next to the bed.

"Not so bad, isnt it?", I said.

It honestly didnt look too bad at him, but you could immediately see that my socks and shoes were a size too small for his body mass. His ankles swole over the edge of the shoes and you could see where the socks ended beneath his pants.

George continued undressing me. He slipped my watch off my wrist and my rings off my fingers. He took off my green jacket and beige vest before he untied my red tie.

He ran his hands over my light blue shirt feeling my muscles beneath before he unbuttoned it. He went down to my beige dress pants and pulled them off. I was now laying before him only wearing my black boxer briefs.

I thought he would yank them off of me but instead he took my suit and carefully hung it up. He turned around and laid himself next to me. He played with the waist band of my boxer briefs.

"Now you can undress me.", George said.

I opened the laces of my shoes and pulled them off, together with my socks. After that I slowly opened his belt and dress pants. As I pulled them down I was surprised by his hard dick swinging towards me.

"No underpants, what a surprise!", I said.

He chuckled.

"It has always brought me luck not wearing one.", he said.

He threw his pants to the ground and eagerly pulled my boxer briefs away.

"Its even bigger than I've imagined.", he said taking my erect dick into his hands.

He started going down on it and it felt amazing. His warm, soft lips engulfed my dick and his tongue played with the tip. I started twitching as he started sucking.

"That should be enough lube.", George said leaving my dick. "I want you inside of me."

"When you state that so nice, turn around."

He turned around and I slowly inserted my dick into his loose hole.

I started thrusting and it didnt take long until George started moaning.

"This feels so good!", he said.

I thrusted back and forth, my body already covered in sweat , loosening his hole even further.

After some minutes I felt I'm close to cumming.

"I'm close, I'll pull out.", I said.

"No, please, dont.", George said clenching his cheeks. "I want your pretty boy seed inside me."

That brought me over the edge. I shot string, after string of thick, white cum into his hole. We both moaned in sync. I, because I had my orgasm and him because he loved the feeling.

It felt like more than 10 minutes until I stopped shooting my load inside of George. I collapsed ontop of him, feeling my dick slipping out of his hole, covered in my own cum.

George turned me on my back and cleaned my dick by licking it clean. He laid down next to me and started playing with my sensitiv nipples.

"You are so incredibly hot.", George said.

I started moaning because he hit the sweet spot with my nipples. After one of my biggest orgasms this somewhat felt like torture.

"Can I fuck you?", he suddenly asked. "I have condoms if you want."

I started winding around.

"Yes, if you stop playing with my nipples, please.", I moaned.

I didnt fully realise what I agreed to until he stopped playing. He leaned over me to open the drawer next to the bed.

He took out a condom and pulled it over his dick.

He got off the bed and pulled me towards the edge. He took my muscular legs onto his shoulders and pushed his dick inside my ass.

It hurt at first.

"Is this your first time?", he asked.

I groaned in agreement.

He started thrusting slowly but increased the speed fast. My pecs jiggled with every thrust just like his belly. It didnt take long until I heard him squirm.

"I'm close to cumming.", he moaned.

"Then pull out.", I said panting.

"No need, I'm wearing a condom."

He started to twitch until he let out a loud moan.

I suddenly felt a strange warmth filling my ass.

"Dude, I think your condom broke.", I said pulling my ass off of his dick.

"Oh god, sorry. I'm really, really sorry.", he answered.

"Its okay, I'm just so sleepy all of a sudden."

"Well, make yourself comfortable then.", he said gesturing towards the bed.

I crawled under the blanket and curled myself together. I suddenly felt cold and started to shiver.

I felt how George crawled under the blanket too. I felt how his belly touched my back while he put his arm over my side, placing his hand on my abs. Shortly after that I fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning and I felt my stomach grumble. I turned from side to side and felt funny.

"Man I feel bloated after yesterdays dinner...", I whispered to myself.

My crotch started to itch. I moved my right arm to scratch it as I noticed something weird. My belly was in the way of scratching my crotch.

I opened my eyes and was devastated. What I saw wasnt my hard earned body. I didnt see my abs, pecs, muscular arms, tattoos and muscular legs, but a fat body.

It didnt took long for me to realize that this was Georges body. I looked next to me, thinking I would find my body there sleeping but I was sitting on this bed alone.

I looked around the room searching for him but he wasnt there. I stood up looking for some clothes but Georges suit from yesterdad was nowhere to be found as well as my own clothes. I looked inside the wardrobe and only found a bathrobe.

I slipped it on and left the bedroom to search for my body.

It wasnt in the foyer and I made my way out onto the terrace. I found it there sitting on the couch, fully dressed in my clothes from yesterday evening, touching itself.

"How did this happen!", I shouted at it.

"Good morning Dean. How are you?", it asked.

I shivered when I heard my deep, dark voice.

"George?  Is that you?", I asked bewildered.

"Who else should it be."

"How did this happen? We cant stay like this!"

"Why not? I mean, I'm stunning now."

"So you dont want your life back? Even if not, you cant force your life uppon me!"

"In fact, I do not want it back. I mean, I was the one who swapped our bodies."

"What do you mean 'you were the one'?"

"Remember the champagne we had before yesterdays makeout session? Yeah, it was a special one. It took a very long time to get it here from the deep darks of the internet. And then I only needed a hot hunk to drink it with and to have each others cum inside us."

"Wait...you broke the condom on purpose to swap with me? Why even me? Why even swap to begin with. Your muscles still have your workout memory. It wouldnt have been too hard to get your muscles back!"

He stood up and leaned against the wall. I only now noticed how much taller my body is compared to Georges.

"I'll do this in order. Yes, i did it on purpose. Because you are honestly one of the hottest men I've seen. I mean, that trimmed beard, the handsome face, the muscles, the tattoos, the suits. And those pictures werent really me. Those are my cousin, he always had the better genetics while looking similar. I always had a crush on people like him: big, strong, muscular. And with your body I can finally get a boyfriend like that!"

"You've done all of that just to have a chance of getting a hunk as a boyfriend? You know you coild get that in this body too!?"

"Dont try to trick me! No one wanted to date me when I had a profile with real pictures of myself."

"But I gave you a chance. What if I wanted to be your boyfriend George? "

I could see his dick twitch in my pants.

"You want to?", he asked.

"Yesterday was one of the best nights of my life.", I answered.

He walked around me and put his arms around my waist.

"So you'll be my boyfriend?", George asked.

I got goosebumps feeling his breath on my neck. I smelled the perfume and aftershave from my body. And it smelled incredible.

His hands opened my bathrobe and started to massage my fat breasts. He slowly moved down onto my belly and kneaded it before starting to stroke my dick.

It was pure pleasure and my knees went weak. I fell onto my knees and George sat down onto the couch again.

I turned at him and he held his foot in front of me.

"Worship me George!", he said.

And how I wanted to worship him. I felt the need to serve this muscular man before me.

I started licking the brown leather top of my former shoes. I pulled it off of his foot and smelled it. It smelled great, like leather and manly sweat.

I pushed my dick inside the shoe and wanted to shoot a load into it when I came back to my senses.

"No! This isnt right! I wont serve my own body. It is mine and I demand you to give it back!", I shouted.

"Thats sad. I had hoped that the seduction would let you forget who you really are.", he said.

"You are a horrible person George! You steal my body and then try to make me forget myself?! Even when I would still have my body I wouldnt want to be your boyfriend anymore. You are just sick!", I screamed.

"I want to propose a deal to you.", he said calm. "You can have your body back, but only when you get a hunk to date you in my body."

"Deal!"

"Good. I'll give you three weeks to accomplish it. If you dont, I'll make you my slave and you'll worship your own body forever."

He stood up again and left the terrace. I followed him.

"Oh, before I forget. You'll get some of my memories in the next hours. Phone pin, where I hid my clothes, credit card pin, where my car and house keys are et cetera.", he continued.

I looked at him speechless.

"Yes, I also have your memories. And not only a few like you will, I know what you know.", je chuckled. "I'll go home now and test this body to the fullest. So make sure you get a date to get this back!"

He pointed to himself, then entered the elevator.

"See you in three weeks."

He waved at me as the elevator doors closed.

_______

Follow George exploring his new body (coming soon)

Follow Dean trying to find a date (coming soon)

[pensat-i-fet]

A not so soft launch (Pablo Gavi x Reader)

**@dohmeti suggested I could do a part 2 for Dealing with the enemy where both of them have to be on the red carpet and I thought it was a great idea. So after some brainstorming, this is what I came up with. This can be read on its own but reading part 1 definetely adds nice context for the characters. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for the love for part 1 ❤️**

Word count: 1342

Masterlist

Wattpad

"I'm going to follow you on Instagram".

"Why?"

"To kick start our soft launch".

"Our what?"

Your boyfriend's confusion was hilarious.

"A soft launch is when you leave hints on like social media to let people know we are together. And then we do the hard launch".

"Which is?"

"Posting together, Pablo. What else?"

You keep walking around the room, phone in hand, nervous about this moment. While he just lays down in bed not understanding what a big deal this is.

"It sounds like a lot of work".

"Says the guy who spends 90 minutes running around the pitch like a headless chicken. Liking a couple of posts won't be that tiring".

"But why can't we just say we are together?"

"Because that's not how things are done nowadays. We need to do this and maybe mention something in interviews if we are asked. That type of thing".

He shakes his head and keeps scrolling on his phone while you sit on the edge of the bed, index finger hovering over your phone screen.

"Imagine it's a handbag".

"What?"

"Instead of the follow button, imagine it's the buy button for one of those handbags you love so much. You don't hesitate to press that button…at all".

"I hate you".

He reaches to you to grab you by the waist and take you closer to him.

"It'll be fine when people know about us. Stop worrying".

"But what if I lose my Madrid season ticket? Imagine the scandal".

"I'll give you one for the better team. Swapping Madrid for Barça will be an even better decision than dating me".

"Never!"

You take the phone back and press follow.

"Done!"

"So proud of you, baby", he teases, kissing your head.

"Shouldn't you be happy? You were begging me to follow you on Instagram for ages".

"Until you said yes to my offer to be my girlfriend on the first attempt. That's much better than a follow. And I know you stalk my profile anyways".

"I do not stalk your Instagram".

"And my fan accounts".

"I don't even check those. Stop lying".

"How about that time I saw you watching a video from one of them?"

"It was recommended on my explore page, Gavira".

"The explore page that recommends similar content to the one you search…makes sense".

You get up, taking the clothes you had picked before.

"I'm going to take a shower and you're not invited to join me for being an annoying idiot".

"You still love me!"

"I might change my mind about that!"

                                      **

After your follow, several media outlets posted about why you would follow a Barça player on Instagram and most just assume you had your eye on him. Well, they weren't completely wrong.

There were also comments about it on Gavi's fan pages. You know, those ones you didn't check…while he was around and could see you doing it. They have great photos of him and you liked looking at them when you missed him. 

"Maybe you can comment something on my new photo".

"Like what?"

You go to your Instagram to find the photo you posted a couple of hours ago. It was a behind-the-scenes shot of your show.

"I got it", he says. But he doesn't let you look at what he is writing. 

A notification on your phone alerts you he had sent it and so you check it to see what he came up with.

Smart. Just a comment about work. It gets people talking without being too obvious.

"You're good at this. Ok, what should I answer?"

"How about the zipper emoji?"

"Wait. You're too good at this. I think I've found you a career for when you retire".

Throwback to when I got to celebrate my birthday on set with my absolute favourite humans!

Pablogavi: when is season 3 out?? I need it now!

Yourusername: 🤐🤐

"There are already comments from people who noticed our interaction. Perfect!", you said, pleased.

"What's next?"

“I have an interview tomorrow. I’ll suggest I might be seeing someone. And I’ll share my location too. So people can wonder why I spend so much time in Barcelona”.

He shakes his head, muttering. “So much work”.

                              **

"I've been invited to the movie premiere you are going to".

"Why?"

"I don't know", he shrugs. "I just have. I get invited to a lot of things but refuse to go. I don't want people to think I'm not focused on my career because they see me at parties".

"Makes sense", you say, cuddling to his side. "Why are you telling me about the invitation then?"

"I thought we could go together".

You think about it for a second and yes, it is a good idea. But it also feels too soon. You had only been doing the soft launch for two weeks. 

"I don't know…".

"Come on. It's perfect. We show up together on the red carpet and we don't need to do anything else".

"Can I think about it?"

He nods but you could tell he was unhappy you had refused. So you mentally proceed to do a list of pros and cons. 

"I don't think it's a good idea".

"Well", says Gavi, getting up and leaving you on the sofa alone. "I'm going anyway. The movie sounds fun".

Saying you feel bad would be an understatement but it is what feels like the right decision at the moment. 

                                 **

There had been some tension in the days prior to the premiere and Gavi uses your not wanting to be seen with him as an excuse to leave in a different car to the event. 

So when you get there, you see him already attending the press. He had gone through a couple of groups of journalists and now it is your time to be interviewed by them.

"Oh my God! You look stunning. Tell us who you are wearing tonight".

"Valentino. When I saw this dress at the fitting, I didn't need to see more".

Rehearsed answers are always a winner.

"Have you seen who's here at the premiere?"

"A lot of people, I would assume", you laugh nervously, knowing who they meant.

"Well, you see, we noticed you following Gavi on Instagram a couple of weeks ago and now he's here. Maybe you'll have a chat with him? Even if he is the enemy?"

"Maybe".

You move to the next groups of reporters and, of course, there are more questions about the footballer that was getting all the attention tonight.

Too much attention, if you were to be asked. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a group of women surrounding him. Their flirty giggles were so annoying. Could they be more obvious?

You try not to roll your eyes while you keep talking to the press.

But then, one of them really pushes her luck, offering her arm so your boyfriend can take her to the red carpet to pose with her. And he accepts her offer. Obviously, she doesn't know he has a girlfriend but what the heck?

While you wait your turn to go to the carpet, you see her getting closer to him. And then…she kisses his cheek when the photographers asked her to do it!

"Oh no she didn't!"

You walk to where they are posing and when Gavi sees it is you approaching them, he starts to smirk. 

"Excuse me", you tell the girl who is still holding onto his arm. "That's my boyfriend so I would appreciate it if you stopped touching him".

She looks at you, shocked, and does as you told her.

“I think you scared her”.

“Good!”

"But what are you doing here? I thought you didn't want anyone seeing us together".

"Oh shut up!"

You grab his face with your hands and kiss him, causing all photographers to move to where you two are standing so they can get the best photo. 

Gavi immediately grabs your waist and deepens the kiss. His plan to make you jealous had worked perfectly.

"There is your hard launch".

[choco-pudding]

Space Channel 5 Part 2: Sugoku Sugoi  Guide Book p. 118-125 (Translation by @lavoszero and myself. Edits and typesetting by myself)  

Second part of Report 5.

Imgur link to all of the  Sugoku Sugoi Guide Book translations we’ve done thus far.  

Plain text below.

p. 118

Shadows シャドーズ

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Lv.10 Groove 113

Right Right Chu- Chu- Chu- Chu- Chu

p. 119

Hey! [2] Hup [3] Ho! [4] Hyahh, moro! [5] Yah!

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Lv.10 Groove 114

Up Down Up Down Chu Chu Chu

p. 120 Mystery Zone · Back Room A

Playing

Ulala’s Stars: 12 This is where we had our pandemonic showdown with The Shadows. As usual, excluding when it’s time for Ulala's "Chu" or "Hey," you can use any of the directional buttons for your inputs. Pressing different combinations of directions makes for an even flashier performance. After this battle, we got a peek at Shadow's true face; to think he was an ally all along…

“Battle of the Bands!”

6.

021 ⬇ ⬇ x x 022 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x x 023 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x x x 024 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x

7.

025 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 026 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 027 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 028 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 029 ⬇ ⬇ x x x

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Lv. 4 Groove 115

Up Down Up Down Woof Woof Woof

p. 121

8.

030 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x x x 031 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ o o o 032 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ o o o 033 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x o x

9. Timed Chu

034 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 035 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 036 ⬇ ⬇ x 037 ⬇ ⬇ x 038 ⬇ ⬇ x 039 ⬇ x 040 o o 041 o o 042 o o 043 o o 044 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x

Pine Comment: After set [39], there’ll be some quick "hey, hey" exchanges, but it'll switch back to directional inputs at set [44]. It's pretty easy to get struck on the previous pattern and continue pressing "hey, hey" by accident.

“Couldn’t you buy me just a lil’ more time?”

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Lv. 4 Groove 116

Left Left Right Right Woof Woof Woof

p. 122 Mystery Zone · Back Room B

Ulala’s Stars: 7 Time for the climactic shooting game of Which One is the Real One. During sets [45] ~ [48], the real one is easy to spot since he looks and sounds different, but after set [49], we had to identify—and rescue—the real one by his pose. This Jaguar guy left a bad first impression on me, but we still worked together for one last "whoo."

“Time for a game! Think ya can spot the real one?”

10.

       “Which one of us doesn’t belong?” 045 “Which one of them doesn’t belong?” ⬆ x x x x o        “Which one is the real one?” 046 “Which one is the real one?” ⬆ x x o x x

11.

047 ⬆ x x x o x 048 ⬆ o x x x x

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Lv. 4 Groove 117

Up- U- Uh- Up Woof Woof Woof

p. 123

12.

049 ⬆ x o x x x 050 ⬆ x x x x o 051 ⬆ x o x x x 052 ⬆ x x x o x 053 ⬆ x x o x x 054 ⬆ x x x x o

Tchalaalaa Fu! [6]

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Lv. 4 Groove 118

Right Left Right Left Woof Woof Woof

p. 124 Pudding’s Interview? About Ulala’s Weakness, the Space Pirates, & Jaguar

…My blood type is AB, my specialty is knowing the latest gossip, five years ago I used to just be an idol, but I decided to become a reporter. One of my hobbies is riding around on my space bike. Wondering if that’s all I have to say? I’m all done talking about myself, so I guess I’ll go home now. (A minute later)… Fine, fine, since you’re fussing so much, I’ll stay in the interview room. It’s like I’m a prisoner here. Huh? You want me to talk about Ulala and Jaguar? Tch, so that’s what you want to know. You should’ve said that from the start so I wouldn’t have rushed to give my profile information. That’s way more interesting. Now I’m upset. (The hosts bring in one of her favorite foods, kuzumochi) Oh, well now, that’s smart of you. Fine, I guess I’ll tell you about them. Alright, this gives you 20 minutes, after that, I’m leaving.

About Ulala A while back, then…Ulala was…Ah, just the other day I was tricked into advertising for Channel 5, but I didn’t know it was for them at the time… Even though it was for our own publicity too, I can’t believe we were promoting our rival station of all things…That has to be one of the biggest regret I’ve ever had in my entire life… Pretty shocking, huh? Not only that, but I even lost the guitar duel, I was sure I was gonna win that. Double the shock there. If this keeps on happening, I’m going to have to do everything in my power to get Ulala to lose ratings for Channel 5!

Well, I know all of Ulala’s weakness, so if I need to fight her, I’ll be prepared~. What, you wanna know them, too? Hmm, Ulala’s weaknesses. She’s afraid of deafening silence. I guess drifting all alone in a spaceship accident was very traumatic for her since she was so little. But this weakness could be fading; the scars on people’s hearts can heal. Anyway, I know a way more direct weakness! Spicy things. Things like space wasabi, space mustard, and spices, she can’t handle any of those. Teeheehee. I wonder, what kind of trick should I pull to get her to eat something with space wasabi?

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Lv. 4 Groove 120

Right Right Righ- Righ- Woof Woof Woof

p. 125

Her favorite food is roasted space duck so maybe I’ll make it and season it with a good amount of the spices under  the skin. It’d be delicious… (looks off into the distance absentmindedly for about 47 seconds). Ah, I made myself drool. Hehe.

And then there’s Jaguar, I’d call that a weakness, too… heh (couldn’t stop laughing for 1 minute and 9 seconds). Jaguar is a person Ulala admires (old news).  Well, Ulala throws a tantrum like a little kid if I even sneer at her, I could lure her out with just Jaguar’s name, then prank her or whatever, but I’m not gonna do that.  I’m not that mean!!

About Jaguar Well, speaking of Jaguar, he’s honestly really cool. Especially since he’s the leader of the Space Pirate Broadcasting Station (a group that goes around in the Space Pirate ship, Bad Tuning, and broadcasts all over the galaxy. Naturally, they’re all space pirates). He’s a man, who no matter what happens, always seeks the truth. I guess you can call him irresistible, right! Hehe. Oh, also, don’t mention that I drooled earlier… If you do my reputation will be ruined! By the way, apparently he looks like the person who saved Ulala, when she was all alone during that one accident. He’s the dashing type of guy that’s always coming and going like the wind, and always comes to help even if you don’t ask for it.

There’s a lot of rumors going around about his past too, like that he went into hiding ‘cause someone wanted the those connected to reporting that accident out of the picture, some say he used to be a reporter for Channel 5, but others say he wasn’t. Or that he was just a random man that happened to be there during the time of the incident. With Channel 5 under new management now, there’s even newer rumors about him springing up. Like that the Space Pirate Broadcasting Station was really made to get revenge against Channel 5. It must be kinda nice to have that kind of popularity, it’s like Ulala and Jaguar are the stars of a Space Romance. Ah, anyway, was there anything else I needed to talk about…?

[Translator’s notes: by “out of the picture” he means end his career for ever. Basically have him blacklisted (or worse). Space Romance as in the genre.]

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Lv. 4 Groove 120

Up Down Down Woof Woof Woof