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spencerreidenjoyer · 2 days

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we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve.

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it.

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar.

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you.

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp.

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room.

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you.

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end.

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do.

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect.

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch.

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock.

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy.

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person.

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit.

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point.

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend.

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off.

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him.

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big.

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion.

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him.

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them.

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his.

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you.

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer.

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is.

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot.

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought.

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you.

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart.

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?”

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one.

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum.

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his.

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame.

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out.

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers.

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say.

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.”

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender.

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling.

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take.

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind.

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes

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natailiatulls07 · 2 days

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New wag in the paddock

Summary - Being the newest wag in the paddock can be quite daunting but with the right people around you, it's all okay

Warning - None <3

A/n - Slowly easing back into writing?? We'll see lol

Walking into the paddock with beyond nerve racking, with photographers just inside of the entrance and fans just outside of the entrance - I had no where to hide or breathe.

Luckily walking alongside me with Rebecca Donaldson, Carlos' partner. Because of our partners friendship, we were close friends. She had become someone who'd help me and become like a sister to me in the paddock and even beyond.

This morning particularly she had come over to mine and Landos suite to help me get ready for my first paddock day just after him and Carlos had left. Helping with picking out a gorgeous dress, helping with my makeup and also my hair. Like my own fairy godmother in a way.

'Wow there's a lot of people here...' I whisper in her direction, my eyes took in the busyness of a Sunday morning race day paddock. Next to me, I feel her laugh - She's used to this.

With a soft nod and a slip of an arm round my back, Rebecca is quick to reply. 'Yep it's a race day in Miami, you'll get used to it...' I feel her gently pushing me along, prompiting me not to run back out and go back to the safety of the hotel.

It wasn't long before she dropped me off at the McLaren hospitality. Wishing me good luck with a hug and a warm smile before I stand pathically watching her leave me to defend for myself - Almost like a child would whilst being dropped off for their first day of school. In a sense, it was exactly that; I had been dropped off and know expected to make friends until someone I knew would come and safe me.

I breathe in, turn on my heel and walk quietly into the McLaren hospitality. Inside it's modern and high tech, obviously very well thought out. There are multiple seating areas, some small groups accompanying a couple. I can smell fresh coffee as I walk over to a small sofa, sitting there anxiously.

Opening my phone, I can already see multiple notification from various social platforms. I hazard a guess that they are mostly all gossip sites tagging me in their posts.

But one notification stands out to me.

It's on instagram, informing me that I've been added to a groupchat. More specifically a groupchat for the f1 wags. My heart warms at their consideration and kindness, so this is what it feels like to be in a big friendship group of girls.

Soon a few messages start to load into the chat;

lilymhe - Heyyy Y/n! Welcome to the group, this is a safe space for you always xx

francisca.cgomes - Yeah all the girls are in this group so we all gossip, vent and help out in here! Girls support girls obv <3

carmenmmundt - Hi sweetheart!

kellypiquet - Literally if you need anything, send a quick message here and we'll help always x

alexandrasaintmleux - Babes I just saw the photos, you look STUNNING!!! <333

I don't even the big smile that forms on my lips, the feeling of acceptance heavy on my mind. Accidently I don't notice the person in front of me until I hear a soft cough. Looking up I recogise Lando trainer, Jon, stood waiting patiently with a small smile. I gasp at my oblivion. 'Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! You haven't been stood there long, gosh how oblivious can I get?' I nervously ramble.

I've only met him a hand full of times and to keep him waiting felt very rude of me. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head, prompting me to breathe out a sigh of relief.

'No don't worry, I came to get you cause you're boyfriend wants to see you before the race starts...' He explains, watching as I quickly gather my things - I don't want to keep him waiting any longer. 'Hey, no need to rush...' He chuckles, sensing my nerves. It'd be hard not to.

Notable I slow down, no longer rushing to collect myself. I let out a soft sigh, a smile screwing itself onto my lips. And once I have everything, I let Jon lead the way through to Landos garage.

As soon as we walk into the garage, my eyes are immediately drawn to Lando who is stood talking to a few engineers. With his classic smile on his face, something I really do adore is watching as he talks about his job - He really does love it, possible more than me.

I stand there for a few seconds, not wanting to intrude on his conversation. Around me the team work around the garage, clearly buzzing with pre race excitement, nerves and preparation - Something Jon went along with when we arrived.

Then suddenly, I feel eyes on me and I notice Lando walking towards me enthusiastically. As soon as I am in arms reach, I feel his arms slip comfortably around my waist. 'Hi...' I smile, slipping my own arms around his neck. 'How are you doing?'

Lando takes a few seconds, just staring lovingly at me before smirking. 'Good, better now that you're here. How did this morning go? You and Rebecca get here alright?' He questioned, very grateful that I had someone to join this morning.

I nod keenly, moving on to explain about my morning as my hand start to play with some of his mullet. 'Oh I was added to the wag groupchat, they're all really nice people. They said that I can talk to them about anything and ask for advice you know. I've only really met Rebecca so they don't they even know me but they still like accept me, I thought that was the sweet thing ever...' Unintentionally I go onto ramble about the other wags befriending me, only really stopping when I notice his gaze and gentle warm smile. 'Sorry I'm rambling...'

Looking around us, I can see some engineers watching curiously. A mix of his gaze on me, my realization and the engineers watching all make me blush deeply. 'No it's okay...'

His british cuts through my thoughts, reassuring me. 'I'm really happy that you got them beside you, they know what you're going through a lot more than I will ever so that's great!' One of his hands moves up to caress my cheek lovingly.

A comfortable silence falls on us for a few seconds, before I speak up once again. 'So are you ready for the race today? Is the car good?' I ask, despite not really understanding the sport I'm desperate to learn through Lando.

He turns, watching as the engineers do their final preperations and work and nodding confidently. 'Yeah all good! I've got my good luck charm with me and the car is set to do magic today!' Even the way he explains everything, there is a lot of excitement in his voice. I nod, careful to take in all the information he's telling me.

Our conversation continues for a few more minutes before he's notified that he has to make a move to get the car out onto the track. Quick Lando turns back towards me, smiling and pulling me into a tender kiss. 'I love you! Wish me luck!'

I return the same energy and excitement. 'Good luck Lan! You've got this! I love you too!'

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#formula one #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #mclaren #mclaren x reader #rebecca donaldson #lily muni he #carmen mundt #kelly piquet #alexandra saint mleux #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris f1 #kika gomes

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winchester-with-wings · 3 days

Text

Training Room Tension (Wolverine x f!Reader, smut)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!reader

Summary: Training is just another form of foreplay between you and Logan. That's why no one trains with you guys anymore. It's just awkward.

Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut with a hint of sappy love and security at the end, dirty talk, taunting, unprotected sex, biting, spanking, rough sex, Rest In Piece(s) to your undergarments hehe, takes place in the X-Mansion, reader is some type of invulnerable mutant like Logan.

Word count: 2400

Author's Note: First time writing in forever! Praise be to "Deadpool & Wolverine" for bringing back my love and lust for Hugh Jackman. Wolverine in particular is one of my first loves. Shout out to by Bitchachos for reassuring me this obsession was okay. Love you guys! Thanks for reading and thanks to @pagesofivy for the title suggestion! I'm picturing older, thicker Logan from the 70s cuz of that mirror scene iykyk. But also love these XMen gifs. Ah hell I can't pick a favorite. He has aged sooooo well.

Hope people enjoy this and please don't be afraid to let me know! Words of Affirmation is my love language. LOL

I made a wolverine sideblog too because I want to reblog everything Logan and D&W related hehe ----> @feral4wolverine

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The team rarely trains with you and Logan in the same room anymore. For a good reason too. Sure, in short exercises, they can manage you guys. You're both part of the team after all, but the longer training scenarios, they'll make do without. They just know their feral, indestructible teammates will do their part in the real world fights.

Because as much as Logan admires your strength and determination...he also cannot stand it. You're stubborn. You're defiant. You're a tease and he can't take it anymore.

“You’re slowing down, babe, and pulling your punches,” you tease, dodging his swing and sweeping his legs out from under him. He hits the ground with a loud thud. He rolls over, grabbing your ankle before you can get back up. He drags you along the mats as he stands. “Ah, nonono!” you laugh, your arms waving and trying to get a grip on the floor. You get your other foot under you and turn yourself over trying to kick or hook your leg around his neck to take him down.

It doesn’t work this time but at least he lets go of your foot. Back on even ground, you’re swapping blows, punches, and blocks. You curse almost as much as he grunts.

"Run that pretty little mouth one more time," he growls, his arms interlocked with yours as he blocks your attack again.

"Or what, old man?" You push back, breaking his hold, your skin is slick with sweat and it gives you an advantage over Logan…in more ways than one. You’re slippery and fast and his reaction time is slower as his gaze lingers on every inch of exposed, glistening skin.

He pounces and were he not already so close, you would have been able to dodge him. Your feet don't have a chance to gain traction though as you scramble to get away. He swiftly grabs you by the waist, tossing you over his shoulder.

The action is fast enough that it steals your breath away. You're kicking and protesting as he carries you out of the gym. All the tech and weaponry in the Danger Room have borne the brunt of Logan's claws too many times, so the two of you have been banished to the school's gymnasium. Logan takes two stairs at a time as he carries you off in the direction of your shared room. It’s far from the student’s quarters and the walls are soundproof from back when Logan’s nightmares were more frequent. They’re all but gone since you maneuvered yourself into his life.

(It’s technically still his room only, but he was never going to ask you to move in, so you’ve just started sneaking things in and leaving items behind until it was obvious. You know he’s noticed and cleared space for your abandoned items in his dresser, closet, and bathroom. He’s just too stubborn to admit defeat. And you’re happy to spare his ego and let him be the one to finally mention it.)

If anyone in the mansion hears your grumbling and cursing, they tune you out–already accustomed to you and Logan bickering. Your protests die in your throat as you take a sharp intake of air when he smacks your ass, his large hand definitely leaving a stinging mark. If it's not already red, he may spank you one or two more times...especially if you mouth off.

Once in his room, he tosses you onto his bed but you bounce back up and try to shove past him, a half-assed attempt to keep playing cat and mouse, to make him chase you some more. He hooks you around the waist and throws you back on the bed, this time bearing down on top of you. His body is strong, solid, and heavy with adamantium as he pins you down, his chest vibrating with a growl.

"No more talking."

"Oh baby, that's not how I fuck," you moan and hook one of your legs around his waist. One hand grabs his ass, giving you leverage to grind against him.

"Such a filthy mouth," he snarls, his teeth grazing your jaw before he nips at your ear. His facial hair scratches at your skin, raising goosebumps along your flesh. Your nipples tighten and ache, desperate for his mouth.

"You love it."

His chest vibrates with another deep growl just before he claims your mouth, your lips smashing together hard enough that your teeth make contact, and your lips get caught in the crossfire. There's a brief taste of iron but whomever it belongs to heals quickly, the sting relieved as his tongue delves into your mouth.

"Can't...stand it...anymore. Can't take it," he groans as he kisses you. He pulls away just to kiss and bite along your jaw, down the column of your throat.

"Poor thing, powerless to resist me?" you keen, your breath hitching as he bites your neck a little harder, his tongue soothing it a second later. You grind your hips, answering with your own moans, proud of yourself for getting a rise out of him. Your nails dig into his back, definitely tearing at his shirt. He pulls his head back and hisses as the sensation rides the border between pain and pleasure. He reaches for you, his hands shackling your wrists and pinning your arms by your head.

"Be a good girl for once and don't move," he commands you, releasing your hands so that he can take off his shirt and rip off his belt. He yanks your pants down, getting increasingly agitated as he struggles with the fabric. With your shirt, he pulls it up until it bunches around your wrists, effectively shackling you. As for your sports bra and underwear…

"Nonono!"

SNIKT!

"Sonuvabitch!" you curse as he cuts the fabric with one of his claws. He just chuckles. He's slowed down just for a moment to drag a single claw down the middle of your sports bra, along the line of your cleavage. Your breasts spill out as he cuts the straps next. Your breasts are bared to him and he lavishes them with the attention you crave. You no longer keep your hands above your head as you card your fingers through his thick hair, pulling on it as you arch your back and press your breasts further into his hands and mouth. He bites at your supple flesh as his fingers knead your nipples into aching peaks. A mewling whimper escapes your lips as you roll your hips against him some more but his jeans are still on.

"Are you gonna fuck me, or do I need to get myself off?" you challenge him while biting your bottom lip. His answer comes after he slides a hand down your body and rubs your pussy through your soaked underwear.

"Nobody makes you come but me, sweetheart," he says gruffly, his own arousal evident in his voice before he kisses you again, deeply, passionately, possessive. He steals your breath away and when he lets you up for air you gasp, your chest heaving as he's pinned your breasts between you. You love the feeling of his chest hair against your skin.

"Then prove it…Bub," you gasp, surprising yourself and giggling at the use of the nickname. He shakes his head with amusement, only slightly cringing at your joke.

The next thing you know, he's sitting up, unzipping his jeans and ripping your underwear off without the use of his claws. (You don't wear your nicer panties when sparring with Logan is on the schedule.) The sports bra, you'd thought you could save. His dick is straining against his boxer briefs but you hardly get a glimpse of his perfectly thick cock before he's pushing inside you.

Normally, you like it when he fingers you first. When he stretches you out with two or three fingers while he tongues and sucks on your clit. You lament the opportunity for beard burn on your inner thighs but you’ll make up for that some other time. For now you’re just as desperate for him, as he is for you.

"Mmm fuck," he growls as he bottoms out. "So fucking tight. So wet. Love the scent of you on my sheets." He hunches forward, burying his face in the curve of your neck. He bites and sucks a mark into your skin. It'll heal, but at least the two of you will know it was there. You rake your fingers through his hair, pulling on it, your nails scraping his scalp. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles in the small of his back.

"Yes, Logan, yes baby fuck me. Fuck me hard. Make me come," you urge him on, trying to roll your hips to match his rapid rhythm, but you can't keep up. The sensations are intense and overwhelming, until you've lost the strength in your arms and you just let yourself go. You submit to him in every way, allowing yourself to be used for his pleasure just as you know your pleasure is his. "Fuck, Logan, I'm so close…" you moan.

Your body is languid, liquid heat beneath him, your skin scorching hot no matter where he touches you. He drags his big hands down your body, starting at the base of your throat, over your heartbeat, kneading your breasts before sliding them down your stomach and grasping your hips. Changing pace to long, hard strokes, he rubs your clit with his thumb as he raises your hips off the bed. Your hips start bucking like you're trying to get away from the intensity of his thumb on your clit, but he keeps pulling you back to him, thrusting deeper as you two battle for release. You cry out, coming so hard your legs are shaking. You reach out to him and he extends one of his arms. Your fingers dig into his forearm as you hold on, feeling like you could fly off the bed, but Logan has you. He'll never let you go.

"Ohh, fuck," he groans, his mouth hanging open and his lips almost pulling back to bare his teeth like an animal. His eyes roll back as he nearly loses himself to the feeling of your orgasm, the pulsing sensation of your pussy squeezing him tight. You keep rolling your body, pushing and pulling with your grip on his arm, drawing out your climax. His fingers dig into your hips. He finally bares his teeth, growling, his face twisting into a feral snarl. "Fuck, baby."

He pulls out suddenly and you cry, mourning the loss of being full. But then he flips you over, fast enough to elicit a startled giggle. His smug chuckle is lost as you end up face down on the bed. You're about to get up to your hands and knees when Logan slams back into you, going deeper from this position. You moan into his pillow, noting his own unique smell of leather, cigars, and pine. His hand holds onto your shoulder for leverage as he starts piston his hips at a rapid pace, fucking into you from behind, pressing you into the mattress.

“Don’t stop. Keep going,” you urge him on, knowing that the moment it’s too much for you, if you say stop, he will. “Oh my god, fu--I'm gonna come again," you whimper. He lets out a rugged laugh and spanks your ass...once, twice, and then rubbing your skin to soothe the red marks before he grabs your ass to help you push back and ride his dick.

"Yesss," he hisses, "Yeah sweetheart, let it go, come again. I've got you," he grunts, the words oddly sweet in contrast to the pounding you're getting.

Your next orgasm is matched by his. You can't see him behind you but you know what it looks like when Logan comes. You love the way his nose scrunches up, his head falls back and then rolls to the side like he's about to crack his neck. Then he shakes head like he's clearing his head from the fog of mind-blowing sex. His body shudders, all of his muscles are tense, flexed, rock hard. If you were on your back, you'd be kissing and nipping at his broad chest as you rake your nails down his abs. For now, you can take in the sight of him by straining to look over your shoulder. His thrusts stutter to a complete stop as he fills you up.

"Yes, baby…yes, feels so good," you pant, praising him. The corner of his mouth turns up in a proud smirk. He takes a few deep breaths and slides his hand up and down your spine. You fully sink into the mattress, boneless and spent, and he leans over you, propping most of his weight on his arms beside you.

Your breathing synchronizes as you lay there together. He peppers your shoulders with open mouth kisses and gently nips at the curve of your neck as you expose it.

"You like that, sweetheart?" he murmurs softly in your ear.

"Mmm, yes," you answer, "always." Your eyes are closed as you focus on the remnants of pleasure coursing through your body. You press your ass against him, earning yourself a few more lazy, taunting thrusts from him. He pulls out, his dick still hard and throbbing with a stamina unmatched by your own. You clench your legs shut, determined to keep his seed inside you, as you both love a messy round two. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him until you're on your back and looking up at him.

"You drive me crazy, baby girl," he grumbles…with obvious affection as he nuzzles you and then softly kisses you.

"You love it," you defend yourself playfully.

"Mmmhmm," he growls his agreement before kissing you again, one hand slowly exploring the planes of your body once more. He loves it when you play hard to get. He loves it when you talk back and antagonize him. He loves having a partner who keeps up with him and then still kicks his ass in training. He loves it when you challenge his lone wolf act. He loves it all, because it makes these moments happen--moments where two seemingly invincible people can come together and feel safe enough to love and be loved.

-----

It's been 2 years since I posted any fics... I hope ya'll liked this! Let me know!

p.s. made a wolverine specific sideblog: @feral4wolverine

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jetii · 2 days

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hello lovely!!! if you have the time for it with your follower celebration, i’d looooove #21 with hunter 🤭 or if you get too many reqs for him with howzer or wolffe! tysm, and congrats on this big milestone!!!! 💗💗💗💗

okay so i got a lot of requests for #21 so i'm trying to do something different for each! also a slightly different style than i'm used to with some slightly more unhinged smut. @a-cryptid-called-magetha come get your man

A Game

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader

Words: 5,049

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, smut, friends with benefits to lovers, Frat Batch era Hunter, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, underwear kink?, the most dominant Hunter I'll ever write, he's still a simp tho

Prompt: 21. “Moan a little louder, cyare. Let all of 79s know who’s fucking you.”

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You’ve played this game a hundred times, so you know that when Hunter meets your eyes across the bar, you have a choice. You can walk over and talk to him, or you can ignore him.

The first will take you on the route of the seducer. He’ll buy you a drink, and you’ll let him. You’ll let him slide his hands up your skirt, and you know where it ends.

You can already feel him behind you, his breath in your ear, his lips on your skin. You can hear him say the things he always says, the words that’ll make you feel like there’s no one else who has ever made you feel the way that he does. He won't be wrong.

Or, you can look away, and let him come to you. The seduced. It isn't like he won't find his way over. It isn't like he isn't always there. You'll pretend that you don't see him until you feel the heat of him right behind you, his presence filling the room, his hands on the back of your chair.

You'll pretend you're not thinking about him and what you could do with him. You'll pretend not to want it, because you know the game, and you know how to play it well.

You can tell yourself that you aren't going to give in. You're not going to let him kiss you, and touch you, and fuck you. But it's a lie. You are going to. And it infuriates you that you're still doing this. It makes you angry, and you can't quite figure out why.

You don't look at him again, because if you look at him, you'll be done for. It's not that you haven't had this conversation a thousand times. It's just that sometimes it feels like it's not a game anymore. It feels like something real, and you hate the part of you that wants to believe that. You hate the part of you that still lets you think that there's a chance.

So you don't look. And, even though he's the hunter, it's you who waits. It's you who watches. You don't have to turn your head to see him. You don't have to watch. You already know how it will play out. You're only here for the ending.

Hunter doesn't come to you right away. He takes his time, talking to his squad, pretending that he isn't watching you, pretending that he doesn't know exactly where you are. You know he can see the tension in your body. You can see it too, because you can't stop the way your hands clench, the way your thighs shift, the way your back straightens. You can't keep from turning your head to look at him.

It's then that he makes his move. He crosses the room to stand beside you, and the rest of the bar fades into the background. He doesn't touch you, doesn't even come close. Instead, he leans in and speaks, and his words are the ones that make you weak. "Let me get you a drink."

The thing is, you shouldn't let him. This isn't supposed to be happening. You aren't supposed to be here. Not with him.

"No." You shake your head. It's the first time you've ever said it, and you aren't sure how it feels. "I'm not interested."

He gives you a look, like maybe he doesn't understand what's happening, like he didn't expect to have to try this hard. Then, he looks down, and when his eyes meet yours again, you feel something shift. He knows.

His voice is different when he speaks, and he's so much closer now. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You nod, and it's not the first lie you've told tonight, but this one feels better, and so does the next one, the one where you tell him, "I have to go."

You leave the bar, and he doesn't follow. Not this time.

It's a good start.

The second time, you're not going to give in.

You don't know if you can say no again, but you have to try. Because there are things that matter. Things like love, and trust, and respect. There's a future.

You want that future. You want it more than anything, and that's what you have to remember.

Hunter walks in, and you think maybe he's going to ignore you. He’s talking with one of his brothers, the one that joined the Batch a few months back, and they seem engrossed in whatever they're talking about. You feel a flood of relief, and maybe a little disappointment.

But then, Hunter meets your eyes, and you realize that he hasn't forgotten. Across the floor, you're frozen in place, and all the things you should say, all the things you should do, have left your head. His eyes are dark, and the room is crowded, but somehow, it's like there's no one else here.

When he looks at you, it's like the whole world is falling away.

You're the first to break the contact, looking down and away, pretending you didn't see him. You feel a flush creeping up your neck, and you hope no one notices.

You can't do this.

You shouldn't do this.

It's the only thing on your mind as the music pounds through the speakers, and the crowd surges around you. It's all you can think about, and it's distracting, because you keep seeing him in your peripheral vision. It's like he's everywhere, and you can't escape.

You know that if you turn your head, he'll be there, and if he's there, then this will all be over. He'll come to you, and you'll let him. It will be like every other time, and you'll wonder why you tried, why you thought you could say no, why you thought it was worth a try.

He'll be there. You know he will.

You keep your head down, and your eyes averted. You focus on the lights and the music and the crowd. You focus on your feet, and your hands, and the glass in front of you. You don't think about Hunter.

Someone else approaches you. Not Hunter. Someone you don't know, and it's nice. This is the kind of thing you came here for. This is the distraction you needed.

You aren't sure why it makes you feel worse.

You go home alone.

The third time, Hunter comes to you, and it's over.

He doesn't wait. He doesn't ask. He's already got his arm around your waist, and his lips are pressed to your throat, and you've got no choice. There's no way to stop this, and no way to walk away.

"I missed you." He breathes the words into your ear, and there's no one else, not for a single moment, who could ever matter the way he does. You can't even remember what your life was like before him.

"You saw me a few days ago."

"It's not enough." His hands are in your hair, his hips pressed against yours. "Not anymore."

You have no answer to that. There's no reply.

Hunter pulls away, and he's still holding you, and when he speaks again, the words are low and urgent. "Don't make me beg. Please."

Your hand is on his chest, and you're not sure if you're trying to push him away or hold him closer. You've never heard him sound like this before, and it's something new. Something terrifying.

Something hopeful.

"Okay," you tell him.

Hunter exhales, and his arms tighten around you. He rests his forehead against yours, and there are a million things you want to say. You could say them. He might listen.

"Come on." He doesn't kiss you. He doesn't even let go. He just takes a step back, and you can't stop yourself from following. You know what's going to happen.

This is the part of the game you can't stop playing.

You aren't surprised when Hunter pulls you into the nearest darkened corner. He isn't gentle, and he doesn't stop moving. When you're alone, it's like he can't get close enough, can't touch you enough.

It's like this time, he wants to prove that he's still got a hold on you. That this hasn't changed.

It hasn't.

His lips are against your neck, and his fingers are digging into your hips. He's everywhere, and all you can think about is how this was a mistake. You knew it would be.

It's just that it's so hard to remember why.

“Hunter...” Your voice sounds strange, and Hunter lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are so dark, and the light from the main room glints off his tattoo.

When he meets your gaze, he stops. You see the realization cross his face, and it's not what you expected. You thought he'd keep going. You thought he'd push. You didn't think he'd care.

He doesn't speak, and neither do you. You're not sure how long you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

You don't say anything. There are no words. There's just him, and you, and the fact that, after all these months, the rules have changed.

For a moment, he almost looks scared, and you don't know what to say.

"I don't..." He looks away, and you can tell that he's struggling, trying to figure out what's happening, and what he's supposed to do. It's the first time you've seen him this unsure, and it's your fault.

"Hunter." This time, when you say his name, his eyes meet yours. He's not hiding anymore, and he's still touching you. You can still feel his breath on your face.

You've played this game a hundred times, but the stakes have never been higher.

"I can't."

Hunter frowns, and the confusion on his face is obvious. He doesn't understand. You're not sure if it's because he never believed that you could stop, or because he never expected that you would.

"You said—"

"I know what I said."

He takes a step back, and the space between the two of you is wide, and empty, and cold. The air is different without his hands on your skin.

"Did I do something?"

"No,” you say. You shake your head, and then, because there are some things you can't deny, you add, "Yes."

"Tell me." He's still standing so close, and when his voice drops, your breath catches. He puts his hand on your arm, and when he slides it up to your shoulder, his thumb grazes your collarbone. "Whatever it is, I can fix it. Tell me."

He's not listening, and he doesn't hear you. If he did, then this wouldn't be a problem.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

His hand freezes. "You don't want..."

"This," you say. You gesture to the space between the two of you. "This thing where we pretend that nothing's happening. It's not just sex anymore, Hunter. I'm not some random stranger. This means something."

He's still frowning, and you're not sure he gets it. "Of course it means something."

"No," you say. You're getting frustrated, and he still isn't letting go of you. "You don't get it. You need to take a step back, and we have to figure out what we're doing here. Because I can't do this, and—"

"What?"

"I can't have a casual relationship." The words are rushed, and quiet, and everything comes spilling out at once. "I can't have a sex-only, friends with benefits, no strings attached relationship. Not with you. I want more. I've wanted more since the day I met you."

Hunter opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He looks like you've hit him, and you want him to say something, to say anything. But he doesn't, so you speak for him.

"I can't keep pretending that it doesn't matter. I can't keep lying. It's too much." You take a deep breath. "So, no. I can't. Not anymore. We can't."

Hunter doesn't move. He doesn't say anything. He’s preternaturally still, and there are so many things you wish he would do, but this is not one of them.

It hurts more than you could have imagined, and it's more than you can bear. You feel like you can't breathe, and like the only thing holding you together is his hand on your arm. He's staring at you like he doesn't recognize you, and you have to look away.

It's only a moment, and then Hunter moves. His fingers drag up to your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to meet his eyes. You're caught. Held in place by the intensity of his gaze.

"You really don't know, do you?"

You blink. You aren't sure what to say, so you don't say anything.

"This isn't casual. Not for me,” he says, his voice rough, and his eyes search your face, like he's trying to make sure that you're understanding what he's saying.

You're not sure you are.

"I haven't touched anyone since the day we met." He pauses, and the words are like a blow, knocking the wind from your lungs. "Not anyone. Not ever."

He keeps talking, and you're not sure what's happening.

"I didn't lie. Not ever. I never told you how I felt, but that's not because I didn't care."

"Hunter..."

"You're not the only one who feels something," he says, and his voice is low, and desperate, and full of all the things you've never allowed yourself to believe. "There is no one else. There never was. Just you."

He's not playing the game anymore.

"I'm not pretending," he says. "This matters."

You can't speak. Your throat is tight, and your heart is pounding. You want to believe him, and it's almost too much.

"You—"

"Yes," Hunter says. He nods, and then he smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

He leans in, and you're frozen. You can't move. It's like the world has stopped.

"Do you understand now?" he asks, and he's close. So close.

"Yeah," you breathe.

Hunter's eyes close, and he exhales. "Good."

Then, his lips are on yours, and this isn't like any other kiss you've shared. This isn't a game. It's different. Everything is. It's like the first time, but better, because this time, you both know where you stand. This is a beginning, not an ending.

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, and his lips trail down your neck. "I thought... I didn't know."

"Me too," you whisper. "I didn't want to hope."

"I know." Hunter's hands slide under the hem of your shirt, and his fingers dig into your hips. His mouth is against your ear. "But, now, I want to know what else I've been missing."

"Me too," you say. "Stars, me too."

"Yeah?" He's still smiling, and he's not stopping, and you've never been more turned on. "You gonna show me, then?"

"Oh, yes," you say. You guide him back with a gentle shove of his shoulders, but you don't let him go far. The door to the women’s restroom is right behind you, and without thinking, you grab the lip of his chest plate and drag him inside. He laughs as he follows you in, and the sound makes you smile, but then, he's not laughing anymore.

Hunter slams the door shut behind him, throwing the lock into place. You don't waste any time, pushing him back against the door, and he groans. He's already reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you've got other plans.

It's easy to slide to your knees, and when you reach for the buckle of his belt, Hunter's eyes are wide, and dark. His breath catches as you unlatch his codpiece, and toss it to the floor. You don't wait, pulling his cock free, and Hunter's head thunks back against the door.

"You don't have to—"

You take him into your mouth, and his words dissolve into a moan. It's been too long since the last time, and the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him, is better than you remember. The thick vein that runs along the underside is throbbing, and you press your tongue against it, feeling him twitch in your mouth.

He's already breathing hard, his hands on the door behind him, as though he's not sure what to do with them. He's got one foot braced against the tile, his hips shifting restlessly, and when you glance up, his eyes are closed, his mouth open, his face slack.

He's beautiful.

You don't have time to think about that, not with him filling your mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat, his fingers threading through your hair. His hands are gentle, guiding, not pushing. You can feel his restraint, the way he's trying to hold himself still, the tension in his thighs as he rocks against you.

You hum, and Hunter gasps, his hips bucking, his cock thrusting deep. He hits the back of your throat, and you moan, and it's the first time that he tightens his grip, the first time that his voice breaks. "Oh, fuck."

His hand is cupping the back of your head, holding you close, and when he pulls back, the drag of your lips over his cock is obscene.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—"

You cut him off with a lick along the slit at the tip, and Hunter moans. He doesn't seem to be able to look away, his eyes glued to the sight of you on your knees, and the way his cock disappears into your mouth.

"Fuck, I've missed you."

You laugh, and the vibration of it makes Hunter shudder. He's shaking, and when he meets your eyes, his own are burning. "I mean it. You don't know what it was like. Watching you walk away."

You take him deeper, and his words come faster, like he's finally getting it out. "It's always like this. Every time I'm close to you, I can't think. The way you look, the way you feel, fuck, the way you smell."

His cock slips from your mouth, and you suck a line down the length, and then back up. He's leaking, and you lap at the salty tang of his release, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head.

"All I can think about is burying myself inside of you, and fucking you until you're screaming. I don't know what you do to me, but it's too much."

He's rambling, and his fingers are tugging your hair. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he's shaking. "It's too much. It's always too much, and it's never enough."

You know exactly what he means. You can feel it every time he's near. It's a pull, a draw, and a need. There's a part of you that is always searching for him, that needs him closer, and closer still.

It's maddening.

"I can't stop wanting you."

You've never heard Hunter talk like this, and it makes you moan. The sound is muffled around his cock, and it's like the last of his self-control evaporates.

"Get up here."

He tugs your hair, and you can hear the urgency in his voice. He's not waiting. Not anymore.

His cock slides from your mouth, and his hand wraps around the back of your neck, hauling you to your feet. His lips are on yours, and the kiss is rough and biting, his tongue thrusting deep. You can taste him, and you can feel the way he's shaking.

You've never seen him like this, and it makes you want more. It's intoxicating, and addictive, and all you can think about is how much more he's going to give.

He doesn't give you time to catch your breath. He's spinning you, and you're facing the sink, your hands gripping the edge. He doesn't ask as he rips his gloves off and tosses them into the sink, but you can see the question in his eyes. He doesn't have to.

You nod, and it's all he needs. Hunter's hands are on your waist, and then he's yanking your skirt up, and his fingers are sliding between your legs. He curses, and when he pulls his hand away, his fingers are glistening with your wetness.

“All this from my cock in your mouth, and I've barely touched you." His words are a low rumble, his breath warm against your ear. "Is this what you wanted? Me to take you hard and fast, so that anyone who walks in can hear how good I make you feel?"

Your thighs clench, and Hunter groans, his voice cracking. "Do you have any idea what it does to me, knowing that I'm the only one who can make you come like this?"

"You're the only one I want." Your voice is breathy, and uneven. You can't seem to get a full breath, not when he's looking at you the way he is, his fingers sliding between your folds.

He brings his hand to his lips, and licks his fingers clean, his eyes closed. He looks like he's savoring it, and you're transfixed. It's not until his hands are back on you, hooking into your panties and pulling them down, that you take in a gasp of air.

You watch as he kneels behind you, dragging your underwear down to your ankles. He lifts one foot, and then the other, pulling the soaked garment off. You don’t see where it goes, but you don’t hear it hit the ground. He doesn't drop it. Instead, he stands, and shoves it in one of his pockets, and when he looks at you, he smirks.

You aren’t sure what to say. It shouldn't turn you on. It does.

Hunter leans forward, and his cock slides along the cleft of your ass, and then lower. His lips are on your neck, and when his cock brushes against your clit, you gasp. You can't take much more of this.

You try to turn, but his hands are on your hips, and he's not letting you. His mouth is hot against your neck, and his lips are pressed to your ear.

"No." His voice is a rough growl, and you can hear the smile in his tone. "Stay."

It's not a request.

You freeze, and his teeth sink into your neck, making you cry out. He doesn't speak, and the only sound in the room is your breathing, and the soft, wet sounds of his cock sliding between your folds. He's rubbing the head against your clit, and it's almost too much. You can't stop moving, but the pressure on your hips keeps you still.

"Hunter,” you whimper, and the word is half plea, and half command.

He doesn't answer, and his breath is coming fast and shallow. His fingers are digging into your hips, and he's pressing his cock lower, and lower. You can feel him notch against your entrance, and he pauses, the both of you held in limbo.

"Please."

The moment stretches out, and then Hunter's hand is on the back of your neck, pressing you down. Your forehead hits the cool porcelain of the sink, and you can feel his fingers flex, and then his cock is pressing forward, and stretching you open.

You moan, and it's all you can do not to move. He takes his time, easing inside, and the feeling of him filling you, the sensation of being stretched and filled and claimed is exquisite.

It's not until he's seated inside you that he lets go of your neck. His hand is on your shoulder, holding you in place, and his hips snap, driving him deep. You gasp, his name a strangled cry that tears from your throat, and you can feel his lips brush against your skin.

"That’s it,” he grunts, his breath hot against your ear. He's barely pulling out, fucking you with quick, sharp thrusts. “Moan a little louder, cyare. Let all of 79s know who’s fucking you.”

You don't know what he's doing to you. All you know is that you want more, and you're desperate to obey. You can't help the noises spilling from your mouth, and if you weren't so focused on him, on the way his cock felt inside of you, you might have been embarrassed.

But all you can think about is the way his fingers are gripping your hips, and the way his body is pressed against yours, armor cold and unyielding against your back. You can hear him breathing, and the quiet grunts and moans that fall from his lips are driving you mad.

“Hunter—”

He's not waiting for you to finish, not even bothering to let you catch your breath. You feel the way he responds to the sound of his name, the way his hips jerk, and the way his cock thickens inside of you. His arm slides under your body, wrapping around your stomach, and his hips are moving faster, his thrusts rougher. Hunter fucks you like he's trying to claim you, and in a way, he is.

His mouth is at your ear, and when he speaks, the words are a rough whisper. "Tell me you're mine."

You're shaking, and it's not from the force of his thrusts. It's from the way he says the words, the way he breathes them into your ear, like a plea and a prayer.

"Tell me, and I'll let you come."

You don't know how he can keep talking. You can't form the words, and he's relentless. The way his cock fills you, the way his hips snap, the way his mouth is pressed against your neck, his lips leaving kisses and marks that will linger, and remind you that you're his.

"Please," you manage, the closest your fogged mind can get.

"Say it."

"I'm yours," you whisper, and the way his hips jerk is telling.

He doesn't speak, his hips shifting, and when he drives into you again, it's all you can do to hang on. He's hitting the perfect spot, and when he fucks into you, he stays there, the head of his cock grinding against the most sensitive parts of you. His hand finds your clit, his thumb circling, and it's only moments before you're coming undone.

The force of it hits you, and the noise that escapes is not quite a scream, and not quite a moan. You're shaking, your vision going white, and your entire body is clenching, tightening around him. It's only then that he lets go, the sound that spills from his lips making you shudder.

You can feel him coming, the heat of his release flooding your core. It's a sensation that will never get old, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the way his hand tightens on your hip, the way his mouth opens against your neck. The way he gasps, and sighs, and whispers your name, like you're the only thing that matters.

It's always like this.

He holds you close, and neither of you speaks. It's just the sound of your breathing, the quiet rustle of his armor, the gentle hum of the music from the club outside the door.

There's a knock on the door, and Hunter curses, his hands tightening. His voice is rough, but quiet, and there's no mistaking the warning in his tone. "Go away."

You're frozen, and there's no reply, just the sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway.

"Fuck," he groans. The sound vibrates through your body, making you shudder.

"You're gonna get us thrown out,” you tell him, and Hunter laughs.

"It wouldn't be the first time." He pulls away, and it's an unpleasant sensation, the drag of his cock leaving your body. You can feel him leaking from between your legs, and you shift, trying to find something to clean yourself up with.

"Here." Hunter pulls a towel from the rack, and he's gentle as he runs it over the inside of your thighs, and between your legs. He cleans himself and tucks his cock back into his blacks, and the whole time, he's got a hand on your waist, like he's not ready to let go.

You adjust your clothes, and when you turn to look at him, Hunter smiles.

"I've been thinking," he says, and he's reaching for you, pulling you close.

"That sounds dangerous."

"Maybe." Hunter dips his head, and he kisses you, his hands cupping your face. His mouth is warm and soft, and it feels like an apology. When he breaks the kiss, he's still holding you, and the next words out of his mouth are the last ones you expect.

"Do you want to go to dinner with me?"

You blink. Hunter's eyes are serious, and his hands are on your shoulders like he's bracing himself.

"Like, on a date?"

He nods, and he looks so nervous, it's hard not to laugh. The two of you have been having sex for months, have done things that would make most people blush, and he's nervous because he wants to take you to dinner.

"Just the two of us?"

Hunter nods again, and when you smile, his own lips curl up.

"Yes." You wrap your arms around his waist, and he looks relieved, like he didn't think you were going to say yes. "I'd love to."

Hunter smiles, and it's brilliant. It makes his eyes shine, and you can't help but grin.

"Good," he says. "That's good."

“But you’re going to have to give me my panties back."

Hunter raises an eyebrow and dips his hand between your legs, the touch light, but firm. His fingers glide through your folds, and the sound you make is high and strangled. He's still wearing a smirk when he pulls his hand away, and when he licks his fingers clean, there's no mistaking the way his gaze darkens.

"I think I'm going to keep them," he says without a hint of remorse.

"But—"

"Consider it a promise." His smile is wicked, and his voice is low and rough. "For later."

Your eyes widen, and Hunter chuckles.

"Now," he says, his hands sliding down your arms. He interlaces your fingers with his, and pulls you toward the door. "Let's get out of here."

This time, you follow him without question.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

#WOOF okay this one was a bit much even for me #the last request i'll be posting for a few days #gotta clean up this soul-crushing Wrecker angst for Wednesday #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter #the bad batch #clone x reader #the clone wars #roy writes #500 follower celebration

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romanticatheartt · 1 day

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You always have to bring feysand into everything specially in your gwynriel or elucien posts. Can you not do that? Some of us doesn't like their content in the tags

I've rarely seen a feysand also loving gwynriel and elucien and it seems you're the only one

You know I always wondered why some of Feysands who have already stated that they ship Gwynriel or Elucien, never talk about them. I got my answer. Because y'all are so welcoming, thank you so much!!

I'm not the only one who ship Feysand and also ship G and E, there are so many out there but I admit that Feysand might not be their otp.

And first of all, this is my blog and I post anything that I want. Either you can like and engage with it OR, this might be shocking to you I know you can block me. That way you will never see any of my posts. (do you want me to make a tutorial for it? just ask!)

Second, if you have problem with my post and you still, for some weird reasons, don't want to block me you can always filter the tags. (I can also make a tutorial for this too)

I'm sorry that your brain can't comprehend the fact that I can be a multi-shipper without being a hater and enjoying my time being in this fandom.

I never noticed that I bring Feysand into everything, guilty as charged... I can't stop talking about them.😔

I didn't want to answer this because it seems you're just a child and no mature person would ever talk like that but if this is a problem of anyone out there and is bothered by my posts I want them to block me. Don't worry I wouldn't be offended... I'd actually appreciate it<3

#I wonder who are you...#with that attitude I should've blocked you by now!!#feysand #pro feysand #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #elucien #pro elucien #same goes with Elucien

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hotvintagepoll · 2 days

Text

Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS poll blog!

The Scrungly Little Guys (gender neutral) Contest will start THIS THURSDAY, September 26th. All contestants have now been processed and are ready to scrungle it up for your enjoyment. Reminder that this contest enshrines the weird, the off-putting, the comic, the character actor, and the strange cinema legend. If you need a reminder of what scrungle means, this picture is the golden standard.

All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, the Dracula Daily polls, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. I am working on a more complete tagging system so people just here for the polls can navigate the blog more easily, but that's still in the works.

FAQs:

“Define scrungly?” For the purposes of this tournament, a contestant must noticeably present in some way as at least one of these: odd, bizarre, off-putting, disheveled, creeping, feral, small, filthy, silly, funny, kooky, comical, exhausted, or just plain strange. This contest presents a wide array of scrungly appeal, so not every contestant will hit every single one of these (but should, ideally, be a few of them). Scrungles were chosen based on how convincing their submitted propaganda was. This contest is all about oddball character actors, creeping henchmen, comic relief sidekicks—the side characters who never get the credit they deserve in proper rundowns of famous old movie actors.

"How do I decide who to vote for?" Vote on whoever seems scrungliest to you. Do not vote for someone based on hotness alone. The video propaganda, included under the cut, is highly encouraged for showcasing scrungles.

"Is this just like the hotness tournaments?" No. This contest is sillier.

"Hey! Some of these guys sucked and they shouldn't be here!" Yes, some of these guys sucked. I agree with you. For reasons I've gone into before, I don't exclude anyone from the contest for moral reasons, even if I personally think they were garbage. I do this because I cannot responsibly research and vet every competitor's background and legacy, and I'm not comfortable being the moral barometer for everyone, even in cases where I think it's really obvious. You are welcome to vote against people for moral reasons, but as mod I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about anyone.

If I see repetitive, trolling, or bigoted remarks in the comments, I will block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a competitor’s problematic aspects in the replies, that’s fine, but if I see bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked. I will also block if you start harassing other people voting on the polls. If you really hate that someone is winning, please post positive propaganda for their opponent instead.

I welcome additional propaganda for the scrungly little guys in reblogs or asks. I boost the best propaganda I see and try to boost equally for everyone. I don't accept propaganda that’s post-1970 or from non-film appearances. When sending your propaganda, please don't send me too many pics or videos at once (I max out at about four per ask.)

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t alter submissions beyond fixing obvious spelling mistakes. I do choose the poll pics, purposely trying to pick the silliest ones possible for this contest; if you think I could do even sillier, send me one I can use instead. If you think a contestant needs more propaganda, send me an ask with some and let me know if you'd like it added to the poll post if they make it to the next round.

“Who won the major hottie tournaments?” Eartha Kitt and Toshiro Mifune are the reigning hotness champions. They are both living it up by the pool in the sunshine, as far from the shadow realm as possible.

“The....the shadow realm?” All hotties who fail to continue in a hotness tournament are sent to the shadow realm, far below the crust of the earth where the sun never shines, a dark and dismal and gloomy place. (Boris Karloff keeps making everyone try his brandy-based guacamole.)

“Was [this famous person] submitted to any of the tournaments?” Try a tag search for them (ie, [#famous person name] in my search bar). If you still haven’t found your hottie, they either did not fit the criteria of working in movies from 1910-1970, weren't convincingly scrungly in their submission, or were not submitted at all.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the polls.

Tournament schedule post-hiatus:

Ongoing: Dracula Daily casting polls

Starting September 26th: Scrungly Little Guys contest (gender neutral)

After that: Ultimate Hottie Tournament (top brackets of the hot men & hot women competing together)

TBD: Hottest On-Screen Couples (Astaire and Rogers, Bogie and Bacall, etc)

TBD: Horror Hotties (Frankensteins, Draculas, Brides, etc.)

TBD: Dandy Detectives (Marples, Sherlocks, Nancy Drews, etc.)

fun mini polls that pit sets of characters from the same movie together, like the Philadelphia Story or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers ones (these can be found in the #minis tag)

#housekeeping #scrungly 1 #scrungly little guys #hotvintagepoll

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abiatackerman · 17 hours

Text

I don't know if you guys have noticed or not but Levi's stoic personality totally changed when the war ended. For me it was like he was maintaining this stoicism for the sake of his position as a captain.

Levi was the captain of the survey corps. And not just "some" captain, he was actually the leader of the soldiers. Also he was the strongest soldier so far. So if he would have acted softly around the soldiers there might have been a possibility that the soldiers would have disobeyed him. Also the fact that he was short and was from underground didn't help the fact at all.

So I think he used to act rude and stoic around the soldiers to maintain an intimidating posture. If the soldiers wouldn't have feared him then they wouldn't have obeyed his orders or took him seriously. And it's not actually uncommon between Army leaders. I have some relatives who work in the Army as commanders and they said it's normal because if you won't be strict, you won't be respected.

Also if we're gonna mention no regrets Levi I would say that he was a bit arrogant (he was in his early twenties and he was the strongest and famous, can you blame him?) back then. And not to mention he used to maintain his rude personality back then too. I mean he was the leader of the thugs, what do you expect? He had to for him, along with Isabel and Furlan's safety. If he was a softie around the thugs there were a lot of possibilities of him getting hurt. But that never changed how gently he used to treat Isabel or his loved ones.

And in the anime we can see how soft Levi has become, after the war. Honestly I think this is the actual Levi Ackerman! He had to hide this soft side of him due to survival and for various reasons. I still remember how Kenny said the first thing he taught Levi was how to grip a knife and in the end Levi was shown holding a candy. Knowing Isamaya, it's probably another symbol. A symbol to express that Levi actually never wanted to grip a knife but he had to, due to the circumstances.

Also the fact that I've seen a lot of people say they're disappointed about the fact that Levi has turned into a softie, actually hurts me. I mean it's not like I hated his strong self but the fact that Levi is finally relieved from all the duties and pain and that he's actually showing his true self, calms me down. I'm glad that he can finally be himself, the true Levi Ackerman.

Tags: @laevieee @spouseofleviackerman @levisbrat25 @anti-cupid @meowmewow7 @mikabella7

🩷If you want to be tagged let me know🩷

#abi's personal headcanon/thoughts #levi ackerman #levi #levi aot #captain levi #levi heichou #kenny ackerman #kenny aot #postwar levi #levi snk #levi attack on titan #captain Levi Ackerman

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fuck-customers · 1 day

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I'm tired of being underutilized at my job and getting shit register shifts for months. I'm cross-trained throughout the entire store. I can stock. I can unload trucks. I can build shelves and displays. I know how to add/remove things from the inventory system. I know how to make price tags and sale signs and put them up. I know where everything in the store goes by memory. I take the time to make tags for products whose tags have been ripped off, rather than just tossing it in the damages like most people. The only things I don't know how to do are management-only responsibilities that I'm confident I could easily pick up if shown how to. (Such as managing payroll, interviewing applicants, hiring new employees, etc)

I also work very quickly and efficiently. I could get the exact same tasks done in half the time as my coworkers with no mistakes. I'm also the type that will stock/recover/do something productive in downtimes, rather than just stand at the register or play on my phone. (No shade to coworkers that do that- this job takes so much advantage of us they mught as well do something fun) And on a personal level, I just fucking HATE being on register. I count down the seconds until my shift is over and I don't have to be at the goddamn register any more.

(You reading this may think that maybe management doesn't think I do as good of work as I think I do, or maybe they want to control me because I'm a threat to their position or something along those lines. I've literally never been given a chace to prove myself. The new manager showed up and immediately shoved me on register and never allowed me the opportunity to do anything else, despite me practically begging to be scheduled somewhere else, because "everyone is scheduled register shifts" so the fuck what? I'm not everyone)

Posted by admin Rodney

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scarrletmoon · 3 days

Note

Do you have any Ed and Stede fic you could recommend to me? I love your fics so I think I'd like your recommendations :)

i'm so flattered 😭i barely read anything to begin with for multiple reasons (nothing to do with quality -- i've been in a lot of fandoms and this one BY FAR consistently has the most incredible fic) but uuuuhhhh let's go through my most recent bookmarks!

in case you don't want to scroll through all the rambles (oh and feel free to tag anyone if they're on tumblr, i just linked their ao3 pages):

An Uncharted Level of Waves by Living_City (E)

politely menacing by daydreamcrash (E)

charted by darcylindbergh (E)

serial blusher by daydreamcrash (T)

CringeFail Mob Boss Stede (series) by Panda_Birds (T)

but that's none of my business by chaotic_neutral_knitter (T)

Telescope by Jimsnose (E)

Untitled by oatmilktruther (T)

An Uncharted Level of Waves by Living_City (E)

something about this trans ed fic just got me. something about ed talking about his body with someone he trusts? something about how you can tell how deeply stede adores ed even when it's not from his perspective? also uuummm this has coming untouched, so. i'm a simple man,

politely menacing by daydreamcrash (E)

i'm so stupidly picky when it comes to stede characterization, but i took a chance bc i saw "what if......stede in the cat collar" and you know what. it was fuckin great. i love when stede gets to be the brat. i love seeing ed and stede trust each other. i like when ed gets to dom on his own terms. i love them being disgustingly in love

charted by darcylindbergh (E)

i assume im like, the last person to read this but it's one of those fics that just pops into my head out of nowhere sometimes and i just 🫠 as i said before, im a simple man and i'm a sucker for play that involves one of them trying to distract the other. sexually. anyway it's hot AND shows off how intelligent and skilled ed is. win-win

serial blusher by daydreamcrash (T)

(see sometimes i read stuff that isn't filth!) this fic is SO FUCKIN FUNNY. i just love the fact that ed's spent so long trying to meet someone, but of course the guy he instantly falls head over heels for is the one archie never even considered. it's "stede? STEDE stede?" manifested into a hilarious 5k fic. i love it

CringeFail Mob Boss Stede by Panda_Birds (T)

just gonna rec this entire series bc it's so FUCKING funny. i haven't read Performance Review but i trust sowmz' humor so much that i'm going to rec it sight unseen. they just manage to capture stede's terrible but kind-hearted boss energy without going too far into clueless michael scott territory. also ed is completely smitten and everyone is confused by it. it's great

but that's none of my business by chaotic_neutral_knitter (T)

i've probably hyped this fic too many times but idc. it's 1.5k of lucius losing his mind bc he's CONVINCED ed and stede have something going on but NO ONE will believe him (except exactly who you'd expect)

Telescope by Jimsnose (E)

another one of my always-recs. pretty sure jimsnose has left the fandom at this point but that doesn't change the fact that Telescope is incredible and i hope one day i write something even half as good as this. one thing i love about their writing is how you don't so much read it as let it HAPPEN to you. and sometimes i remember parts of this fic like glimpses through that telescope and it's just so incredibly vivid. you can feel the tension so well between ed and stede here, how much they care for each other, how that breaks them, how it brings them together. and jimsnose so good at what they do that i happily read their Ted Lasso fic. i've never watched Ted Lasso. idk if i ever will. idk what i was doing over there, reading it. but the fics are fuckin banger

Untitled by oatmilktruther (T)

first of all, read anything abs writes on sight, like go sub to them right now if you haven't already (i'm biased but im RIGHT). im picking kind of a weird one but you try and get the image of leather and stede and tongue-tied ed out of your head. right. exactly.

#scarrlet answers #our flag means death #ofmd fic recs #gentlebeard #this was really fun actually i love hyping up fic i've enjoyed

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serickswrites · 1 day

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Could you please write a gilded cage whump story???

Also, thank you for all of your beautiful hard work and dedication to us whump fans!

You are so sweet, thank you so much, Anon. I am glad you like what I put out there!

I can absolutely write this for you! Please enjoy.

Warnings: gilded cage, captivity, hopelessness, loneliness

"Darling, you don't seem happy. I have given you everything you could ever want and more. I wish you would be happy," Whumper said as they shut the door to Whumpee's room.

Indeed, Whumpee should be happy. They had a room filled with everything a person could want and more. There was always food to fill their belly, wine to fill their cup, and anything to keep them entertained. They had everything they could ever want.

Except freedom.

Whumpee wished for freedom. Wished to be free of the cage Whumper had locked them in. Wished to be able to come and go as they pleased. To see their friends and family.

But Whumper wouldn't let them.

"I just miss my friends, Whumper. Maybe if I could--"

"I know what you're going to say, Whumpee. It's far too dangerous for you to make the journey alone, you know that. And I'm so busy at work I could not possibly escort you."

Whumpee sighed. They knew better than to argue with Whumper. Whumper didn't take kindly to being argued with. There was no point. "Of course, Whumper. Whatever you say, Whumper."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal

#serickswrites #whump #whump community #whumpblr #whump writing #tw captivity #tw hopelessness #tw loneliness #tw gilded cage #requests #queue

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lovemyromance · 1 day

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Stop polluting our inboxes with your posts, all the posts we've been recieving have been from your blog. you're just trying to start shit because nobody is giving your stupid thoughts any attention

And here's the drama at my doorstep!

Lovely. I had a feeling this would happen, because some people are unaware on how to exercise sound logic and reason, but let me just say this once and for all:

I don't have time to start this kind of petty nonsense. Yes, people have brought this to my attention so I am aware my posts are being circulated like this - but I am not the one responsible for it. I have already put out multiple posts asking for this person to stop and I have never even gone into the Gwynriel or Elucien tags to start any kind of drama. Every single time I have come across a hateful troll, I have called it out and encouraged Elriels to do the same. Every single one of my posts is always tagged Elriel and anti-whatever (if-applicable).

I don't know why you felt the need to come onto my blog and accuse me of something this childish. I get we likely disagree on ships - but why are y'all treating me like I'm some demon hellbent on causing chaos? It's disrespectful and honestly, a little hurtful.

My posts are public. Anyone can copy paste on the internet. Also - they are MY posts - if I was really that insistent on anti-elriels seeing them, then I would just purposefully tag them incorrectly...why tf would I waste my time sending them individually to anti-elriel blogs??

Like, I'm honestly even more insulted that y'all think I'd be inefficient like that?

But ok - jokes aside- I've literally never gone out and tried to antagonize anti-Elriel accounts - so idk what makes y'all think I'm about to start that shit now? Not sure how many more times I can say this but I am NOT. Interested. IN. THIS. LUDICRACY.

I don't know what you people even want from me? What else am I supposed to do? Launch an investigation? Delete my blog? Why can't we just see this is a stupid troll and stop acting like I need to release an official statement like I'm fucking Joe biden or some shit? its not that deep??

Just leave me alone. All I want to do is post in my own tags, and obsess over a ship in my own corner of the internet. Not asking for much here.

#elriel #gwynriel #elucien #using all ship tags for the first time because everyone better listen tf up #not interested

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hyperfixingfr · 1 day

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I'm putting this in the tags for the people who are sending me rude asks. Please do the mature thing and just don't send me nasty things. Thanks.

For the last time since I keep getting nasty fucking asks about it insulting me and calling me names; I am not tryna run none of you people outta this damn fandom and that was never my goal so quit playing victim and pretending I am. This is a fandom for everyone, obviously... Which is why I criticize when you guys treat it like it isn't. I was trying countless times yesterday to drop the conversation when the person arguing with me kept insisting that they had an issue with me talking about an aspect they didn't like, because they were arguing with me over an opinion I had that they didn't like, not over something that mattered. This aspect personally affected me, and many others in the server. This isn't an aspect I enjoy people pretending is cute or funny because it caused very, very real damage to things like body positivity. I don't try to fight with ANYONE here, ever. My entire goal in these situations is to educate when someone believes this is bad behavior by explaining why it's problematic to gloss over this aspect or glorify it when it was a very real issue. Please, ask yourself why you're beefing with a minor. I beg of you. This person had no intention to listen to me, OR the server owner, when we told them that they can have different opinions and simply ignore it if they don't like it. They also ignored the countless attempts at de-escalating the situation, proving they just wanted to argue about it.

I should also mention this person said some really nasty things that implied I was apart of cancel culture, or on the "everything is problematic" bandwagon which is kind of implying they think that criticizing bigotry is wrong, even when it's coming from the minority group it affected. My criticizing of a media is not disliking of a media, nor is it "cancel culture". I am not trying to CANCEL a show from the 2000s. I am merely pointing out its flaws. If you can't handle being apart of a morally flawed show's fandom, don't be apart of it. Not only that, but this person made passive aggressive comments such as "wow you ramble a lot" completely unnecessarily when I was speaking. Why was this needed? I know I do. Why are you trying to insinuate that my passion about the subject is weird? Either way, I wasn't trying to have this fight. They were. This person said a lot of insensitive things to me, claiming I pulled the autism card when I rebuttaled the "wow you ramble a lot" stuff, telling me they had an issue with me merely discussing a topic that was 100% allowed in the server (stated by the server owner, the channel was allowed for criticism), and was overall very passionate about putting me in the wrong for simply pointing out and discussing the flaws of a show because it was brought up. That's not okay and that's incredibly judgy. I dunno why this person can't admit they're wrong, but it's not hard to understand that my criticism is not unwarranted nor is it unwelcome. I did nothing wrong by speaking about it in a channel that directly said criticism was allowed.

Do not play victim when you started the argument AND fueled the argument when people tried to stop it. Simple as. I'm really hoping this person realizes they're wrong and apologizes appropriately like a mature adult, because this is ridiculous. This is such a stupid thing for them to have fought me over and no one's gonna be upset if they just... Did the right thing and apologize. This applies to ANY of you who mess up. If you mess up and realize you've done something you shouldn't have, just apologize man. Especially in a case like this where the person was arguing over "toma-to, tamato-e" or whatever. They didn't like my WARRENTED opinion and they got on my ass about it repeatedly, and I got nothing out of asking them why they held it because their response was basically "you don't like this media how I like it, so you can't possibly like it, get out". Hence, them asking why I'm in a server of fans if I... "Don't like the show". Simply because I criticized an aspect.

Please, if any of you don't believe me, the server is open for the public. You can go in there and see the conversation yourself. I am not hiding myself at all from this, and I'm glad to share evidence that I did just as I said and they did just as I said. This is a stupid fvking argument and any of you still dragging it on should be ashamed for thinking this is worth arguing about. People have opinions, leave it at that. What happened to respecting valid stances?

#knd #codename kids next door

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 2 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/batmanisagatewaydrug/761919124962181120/hi-there-sex-witch-umm-im-a-cisgender-lesbian?source=share hi! same anon, umm i do talk to her, i talk to her all the time about this i ask her questions to an almost excessive degree because i want to get things right, also like- she doesn't really seem to know fuck about shit either. this is her first time being in a relationship with someone who actually gives a shit about her wants and needs so she's still figuring out what those are. what i was more sort of looking for was like- general advice because i do not know how the body of an amab person not on e differs from the body of an amab person who is on e. lots of people in the tags were saying to read "Fucking Trans Women" and the thing with that is i've tried and have run into this problem where i'm broke and can't afford to read it (sorry if this is a mouthful or if the answer is the same i just want to make her happy so fuckin bad)

hello again, anon!

here's the thing: there's no universal "this feels good" guide, for anybody. of any gender, genitalia, or hormone composition.

you know how the clit is supposed to be, like, The Thing for people who have it? it is, sometimes. but I've also known all manner of clit-havers who just... do not get what the fuss is. they could take it or leave it, their cup of tea, as it were, is being poured from a completely different pot. I'm a bit skeptical that there's any such thing as a universal human experience at all, and certainly not when it comes to something as subjective as what makes you bust a nut. I agree with folks in the replies saying Fucking Trans Women is a neat resource, but it's hardly guaranteed to answer your questions - you're trying to fuck your partner, not Mira Bellwether.

if your partner also doesn't have a strong idea of what gets her off, great! lay out some ground rules and observations together so you can start from the same place - are there any body parts or behaviors that are a hard no? what are you're mutually curious about? what do each of you do when you masturbate? etc - and then play! just have fun touching each other (in ways that you're both agreed are okay, obviously) and seeing what happens. not everything is going to be a life-changing orgasmic experience, but it will be fun and silly and teach both of you a lot about what you do and don't like while you get to know each other's bodies better.

"talk to your partner" doesn't mean "your partner needs to have a tedtalk prepared on how they want to be fucked," it means "partnered sex is a conversation."

#sex edventures 2024

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nondelphic · 3 days

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thank you so much for 700 followers!! this is so insane to me and i'm so happy people are enjoying my posts.

i know most of you are here for my ""relatable writing posts"" but i also know some of you are interested in who i am, and specifically my writing, so to celebrate hitting 700 followers i thought i'd give you a taste of my writing !! i know i was supposed to tag some ppl but i forgot to write your names down and i can't remember who wanted to be tagged and who didn't 😭😭😭

these are all drafts and i def don't consider myself a great writer, but i think i'm okay at storytelling. regardless, enjoy it for what it is!

this excerpt is from my first completed draft of "the midnight chase." for context, marley is aroace.

They sat in silence for a while before Marley shifted towards Lucas. She bit her lip, uncertain of how honest to be. “Lucas?”

He looked at her. “Yeah?”

“You know the party last month? Remember how Elvis kissed me?”

Lucas nodded. Marley averted her gaze, focusing on a path beyond the pond that led to a cliff overlooking the ocean.

“Do you think it’s possible to want that sort of closeness, without wanting it all?” Marley could feel Lucas gaze on her.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Marley sighed and let her gaze drop to her feet. Her shoelaces had come undone.

“I mean, I don’t like Elvis like that, but when he kissed me, I felt… warm inside. Like, it’s not something I crave, but it felt nice regardless.”

Lucas remained silent for a moment. Marley looked up to see his gaze thoughtful as he processed her words. The gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird were the only sounds filling the silence between them. Marley could feel her heartbeat quicken, wondering if she had said too much, or if Lucas might misunderstand her.

Finally, Lucas sighed softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I get what you’re saying, Marley. I think… it’s natural to want closeness, to feel connected to someone, even if it’s not necessarily about romance. It’s human, you know? We all crave that warmth, that feeling of being wanted or cared for, even if it’s just for a moment.”

Marley nodded, relieved that he understood, but still, there was something else she needed to express. She glanced between Lucas and her shoelaces, her senses searching for any sign of judgement or discomfort, but all she saw was patience and a gentle curiosity.

“I guess it just made me question something that’s been nagging me for a long time,” Marley continued, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Like, what if I don’t ever want that kind of connection with someone, but I still want to feel close to people? Is that okay?”

Lucas’s expression softened even more, and he reached out, gently placing a hand on Marley’s shoulder. “Marley, there’s no right or wrong way to feel about these things. You’re allowed to want whatever it is you want—or don’t want. It doesn’t make you any less valid or any less… you.”

Marley let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Lucas. I guess I just needed to hear that.”

and here's another excerpt that shows a bit more of the story...... kinda.

As Lucas excused himself to go to the bathroom, Marley looked for Chio. Instead, she ran into Silas.

“Hey,” he said, holding his arm out. “Let’s dance.”

Initially, Marley wanted to say no, but something in Silas’ expression made her do the opposite. She took his arm and he led her to a more secluded part of the dance floor. Marley noticed people staring at them as they walked, not unsurprisingly, considering her and Silas' history.

Silas put a cautious hand on Marley’s back as the song transitioned to a sentimental and slow piano arrangement.

“You know the map I gave you?” Silas asked. Marley smiled. Yes, the one she and her friends had managed to figure out completely. “Did you solve it?”

Something in Silas’ expression told Marley he already knew the answer. Did he want help? Had he solved it?

“Yes,” Marley said. Silas nodded, and a smile crept up on his face.

“Me too. Which means… the winner will be determined by who gets to the middle first.”

Marley nodded. “You’re doing it alone?”

“Yes. I work best alone. I know you’re doing it with your friends.” Something in Marley churned at his answer. It was a typical Silas answer, a simple phrase etched with an edge of passive aggressiveness. Marley had solved it with the help of her friends. He had solved it alone, using only his brains.

“Teamwork is an underappreciated tool,” Marley said, finding herself distancing herself slightly from Silas’ hold on her as they danced.

“Of course. It’s important to be able to work with others. At the end of the day, though, you'll be alone.”

Marley looked into Silas’s eyes, trying to decipher his expression. There was something behind his words, a hint of loneliness perhaps, or maybe a sense of inevitability. She decided to keep the conversation light, not wanting to spoil the mood of the evening.

“Maybe so, but having friends by your side can make a huge difference,” Marley replied, her tone gentle but firm.

Silas nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just... sometimes it feels like relying on others is a weakness.”

Marley shook her head. “It’s not a weakness, Silas. It’s a strength. Knowing when to ask for help, and knowing you can trust those around you, that’s powerful.”

They continued to dance in silence for a few moments, the slow melody wrapping around them. Marley felt a strange mix of empathy and rivalry towards Silas. She understood his drive and his determination, but she also saw the value in the support system she had with her friends.

As the song came to an end, Silas offered her a small smile. “Thank you for the dance, Marley. And for the perspective.”

Marley returned the smile. “Anytime, Silas. Good luck with the challenge.”

“Good luck to you too,” Silas replied, giving her a polite nod before walking away.

Marley watched him go, feeling a mixture of emotions. She was grateful for her friends and the support they provided, but she also understood the weight Silas carried. She hoped that one day he would realize the value of camaraderie.

Lucas returned from the bathroom, a curious look on his face. “Did I miss something?”

Marley laughed, shaking off the remnants of her conversation with Silas. “Just a dance with Silas. Nothing major.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Shall we continue dancing?”

“Absolutely,” Marley said, feeling lighter and more determined than ever.

They returned to the dance floor, joining their friends in the celebration. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and shared moments that Marley knew she would treasure for a long time.

As the night wound down, Marley found herself sitting with Chio and Maya on a bench outside the hall, the cool air in the stone-cladden corridor a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dance floor.

Maya pulled out her phone from under her dress. Marley watched her. “Where did you keep that?”

“Oh, I have all my dressed sewn to include hidden pockets. I hate not being able to carry stuff.”

Chio rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ah, yes, custom sewn gowns with pockets, what a normal and humble thing!”

“It’s not my fault that default dresses don’t come with pockets already,” Maya countered.

“Calling normal dresses ‘default dresses’ is crazy,” Marley snorted. She looked at Chio’s dress. It was a beautifully simple dress with long, wide arms and a simple fabric belt around the waist, in a bright orange colour, contrasting Chio’s blue hair in a seamlessly effortless way.

“To be fair, my dress is also customised,” Chio sighed, smoothing out her skirt, before smirking. “I took it in two centimetres at the waist.”

The three girls burst out into laughter. Maya looked at her phone.

“What time is it?” Chio asked.

“10:45.”

“We should get ready.” Marley said. The Midnight Chase started at midnight, just as the name suggested. And she was not running down the maze in a long dress. Well, she could, she knew multiple people participating who were going directly from the dance to the maze. But they weren’t in it to win it. Marley and her friends were.

Hopefully, Silas would find that working alone is actually the greatest weakness.

Marley had a gnawing feeling that her stance would be proven right.

HELP i'm so scared y'all are gonna think my writing is trash because LET'S BE FR THIS IS JUST FROM MY FIRST DRAFT!!!! i haven't yet edited these scenes so they're kinda cringe but i wanted to show my main project. i do have different writing styles depending on genre though, and i'm tempted to show some of my comedy writing. it's pretty hilarious, if i may say so myself.

anyway, thank you again for 700 followers. thank you so much. each like, reblog, reply, message, or ask brings me so much happiness. you have no clue how much your interest warms my heart (or maybe you do because you know how social media manipulates our brains and their reward system)

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