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inchidentally · 1 year ago

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JSYK I'm with you on containment breaches. Tends to go hand in hand with girlfriend harassment too. Countdown to Rebecca's account going private in 3..2..1

I can't remember which post I left tags on about that but yeah the "corporatization" of any rpf always spells trouble. it's why I don't rb any of it from the main F1/Netflix/sports accounts. LN4 media doing it is I assume with Lando's OK but even there it's a bit... uncomfortable.

rest behind a cut so nothing goes into tags

(this is probably way more than you were asking for anon but apparently these text posts is what I do now)

look. carlando was my main ship when I got into F1 fandom and is going to stay in my top 3 forever. but I keep the lines drawn nice and sharp. I l-o-v-e shipping them but I'm also aware that they're literally big brother/little brother and that all of the physicality and closeness is identical to Charles with Arthur. that and the fact that Carlos is sahuuuuuper straight and folks just confuse euro dude behavior with friends for gayness. Carlos was the one who pushed for Lando to grow up and get a gf and Carlos himself was practically engaged for 6 or 7 years. his own sister gave Isa her wedding bouquet ffs. he's so confirmed heterosexual that he can't be alone for more than 2 seconds between girlfriends lol

but between McLaren content on social media getting absolutely bombarded with irrelevant carlando comments and the hate toward Rebecca ramping up every single damn day (I'd say it's a solid 80/20 mostly of rpf hate toward her and the remaining being plain old jealousy) idk it's not feeling good rn. and it's mostly on IG and a bit on YT (I don't use twitter) but yikes at how much Lando content has something about 'he's thinking about Carlos' or 'omg just like Carlos' or carlando when it's nothing to do with carlando. Lando works so incredibly hard at the two to three careers he's running consecutively and it feels pretty damn insulting to reduce him to one F1 friend - however close they are. Carlos has nothing to do with Quadrant or Lando's YT work or his own sponsorship work. that's Lando doing all of that.

that and when the Today show interviewer pushed the "bromance" angle you could see Lando get kind of fed up (which they tried to edit out) and steer the question back around to actual racing. tbh he even seemed a little icked by DTS making such a big deal about carlando and he and Max joked it off.

even through my Singapore euphoria I could tell Carlos and Lando were walking media ppl back from going too literal with the DRS and saying no, it was advantageous for Carlos and yes, Lando absolutely would've overtaken him if he could have gotten the win for himself. I've actually really respected Lando reminding people that they're not in these rarefied positions to do anything other than try to win or as close to it as possible. they're not making millions and living the high life just to throw race results in the air and play favorites with their friends !!??

and this whole "competition" between carlando and dando/charlos/landoscar/whatever is absolutely not making it's way onto my blog lol. I do know that a lot of people in tumblr are just joking when they do that and I think the 'angst' posts are funny but wow IG and YT are not playing around. they're making videos trying to like disprove other Lando ships and it's ??? (funniest one is the Vegas opening ceremony thing and fighting over who Lando was waving to, Daniel or Carlos) these dudes are absolutely not having real life in-fighting about which of their friends they like "better" or who is their bestest friend. (especially when Lando in the same interview as above stated that F1 drivers - Carlos included - are not his actual private life friends so uh oh how does that play into the competition?? it's so absurd)

I'm not a wives and girlfriends obsessive but I absolutely I am not here for them receiving anything negative from F1 fans unless they themselves have instances truly, openly as problematic as the drivers often are. even then I'm wary bc the sexism motive and double standards run so deep in fandom against women. Rebecca has done nothing but exist as Carlos' gf and it's just a sea of "there's something fake about her" and "body experts" claiming the relationship is fake and that she's "obviously a beard" while he's actually with Lando. that last part craaaaacks me tf up because these men travel to Middle Eastern countries where homosexuality has the death penalty or prison.......... they are NOT gonna be out here referring to themselves publicly as a bromance and their ship name if they're trying to keep this huge gay secret while they tour maximum home o'fobic countries???

I have a few extra thoughts about why folks have especially latched onto being proprietary about which men Lando is closest to or "should be with" when it comes to rpf but I feel like we all kinda know why. I'm over here writing pages of text about him which is lame in it's own way - but even I acknowledge that his greatest attraction as a person is himself and not his relationships to other people. it's why he's the sun that a lot of this content orbits around.

I'm also genuinely glad that Lily's existence and Oscar's quiet but firm reminders of her arrived alongside the landoscar fandom happening. I don't personally see any hate toward her and no one's in denial. even the rare fic that has him and Lily fictionally break up is fully fair to her. I've also posted a lot about how I genuinely love real life Lando and Oscar interaction even more than the rpf (and I love the rpf lol) and honestly the feeling seems shared with a lot of us from what I've seen. so especially if Lily uses her engineering degree to start working in F1 it's good to know that she won't have to deal with crazed conspiracy theories about her being an F1 industry plant to keep Oscar's dick out of Lando's hole or whatever.

for anyone who's read this far or skipped to the end tldr I'm always going to ship carlando and landoscar (and even dando) as well as charlos. but as a carlando shipper I really hope the commodification of it dies down before it truly starts to piss off Lando or Carlos. or Carlos has to put his foot down like Lando did and say hey, stop harassing my girlfriend it's weird.

shit's just been feeling very 'forced' lately to the point of imploding and I'm uncomfy :/

#been sitting on this a couple days to try and bury it lol #I hope I made myself clear #it's also why I chuckled at the homophobic outraged anon I got a while back bc they were so far off the mark #mine #//wank adjacent ig #inchreplies

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djs-horny-blog-lmao · 1 year ago

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do you have any hypno writers you really like? either for TSS or just in general. your writing is great so I feel like you'd have good taste in recs

- 👽

first off, 🥺 that's really sweet thank you

second off, i don't think im going to have a very good answer for you. legitimately, i used to trawl the nsfs/nsfw tags the most,,, back in about 2019?? and the landscape of who's writing and how much is being written has changed a surprising amount, and I can't remember for the life of me who i used to read.

the sanders stuff? fuck dude i dont remember anyone other than @/tulipanthousa in specific, but i remember reading good stuff. God. i remember tss kinktober 2019 was really good but i cannot rely on tumblr ever being able to take me back that far.

when it comes to just hypnokink blogs? again a lot of the stuff i initially microdosed on is actually gone (i joined tumblr first for porn but also like,,,, ten months before the porn ban)

But i am still gonna list a whole bunch of blogs i find inspiring / hot. tho tbh you might have guessed some of these already based on my rb history

(im also not tagging ANYONE bc im just some rando fandom smut blog and that'd be mortifying >.<)

@/of-mutts-and-men just hits that monsterfucker vibe perfectly. a lot of werewolf vibes and ive been so into that lately. also a healthy dose of mind-fuckery.

@/aspiring-house-husband has really good hypno story posts (and non hypno) but just. clenches fist. the eroticism is off the charts. their posts are So inspiring. and so fucking hot. drives me crazy insane.

@/erogenousmind also is top notch and im pretty sure, from memory, has some really good hypno scripts? im picky w/ scripts, i dont like ones that try bait you into reblogging at the end >.< and a lot of them dont necessarily pace well, but i remember this person's stuff being Good

@/yoyomindloops is v much the same as above. they have that erotic hypno dnd series. good shit.

and tho im p sure theyre not on tumblr anymore actively, the blog is still up, and @/lewd-zko's art is just. such internet hypnokink classic.

im also gonna cite 2 like,,, 'makes hypno porn video content' things that i find really inspiring/hot too (tho i will admit, ive never bought their things, i dont exactly have the privacy to do so nor the funds)

@/the-hedge-hypnotist was a guy i remember has been around for ages and has been like,,, solidly one of the Ethical Hypno Content Guys? there's been... a fair amount of drama over the years, it seems, but yeah. he always super cites the models he works with and even the teasers for what they make is super top notch and really erotic. i remember one i was obsessed w/ was super eldritch horror... and i didnt even think i was into that

and lastly, a site that's been driving me insane and im actually gonna link it directly, is Mesmerotic. their people are hot, theyre hypno is hot and real and genuine, and even tho like,,, i can't buy their stuff yet, their teasers/snippets are insanely good. and they do some versatile things!

the other major idea spinner, other than my own brain, is actually DM's with a bestie ^-^' it's no more than plotting erotic fics together (it's actually for a different fandom, i reuse the ideas and she doesn't mind) but got ae have some good kinky ideas. the superhero stuff? that was aem.

...i dont know if this is quite what you meant, but... yeah! fdkgjfdg

#asks #dj monologues #i hope this is helpful

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whataperfectwasteoftime · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 1,985 times in 2022

That's 1,649 more posts than 2021!

624 posts created (31%)

1,361 posts reblogged (69%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@radiowallet

@whataperfectwasteoftime

@honestly-shite

@leslie-lyman

@pedropascalsx

I tagged 1,433 of my posts in 2022

Only 28% of my posts had no tags

#comment reblog - 386 posts

#fic rec - 214 posts

#marcus pike - 179 posts

#dave york - 86 posts

#pedro pascal - 71 posts

#marcus pike x reader - 43 posts

#marcus pike x you - 43 posts

#the mentalist - 38 posts

#to read - 36 posts

#taglist rb - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#htkai was born in the panda express drive thru after a totally unhinged conversation with you about the concept and i will always remember

My Top Posts in 2022:

Everything

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Anal sex, anal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), Marcus Goddamn Pike is his own warning.

Summary: Marcus is obsessed with your ass.

A/N: I'm embracing the fact that I'm a one-trick pony. This is per the request of @honestly-shite and @pedropascalsx, who both agree that anal with Marcus Pike just hits different. Alternate titles for this include "She made his day, he made her hole weak" and "Episode IV: A New Hole."

Masterlist

You rise up on your tiptoes to reach the glasses in Marcus’s apartment. Keeping them on the top shelf is no problem for him, but with your smaller frame, you have to really stretch to reach them.

You can tell that the borrowed shirt you're wearing is riding up, showing off the lacy underwear you'd worn to impress your boyfriend.

Without warning, a large, warm palm envelops one cheek and squeezes softly, a whispered Fuck falling past Marcus's lips as he feels the swell of your ass underneath his shirt.

Startled, you let out a squeak of surprise and the glass falls from your hand. Not skipping a beat, Marcus grabs it mid-fall and sets it down roughly on the counter before pressing up behind you. You laugh in shock at his impressive reflexes and he chuckles softly too, burying his face in the crook of your neck and scraping his soft stubble lightly against your skin. Both of his hands come to your hips, caging you against him.

"Can't take you anywhere," Marcus teases. "Dropping my glassware."

"You startled me," you murmur, leaning back against him.

The two of you are still in the honeymoon period of your relationship where you can't seem to get enough of each other, always needing to touch, spending weekends like these wrapped up in each other.

Marcus’s hand migrates back down to the globe of your ass and he makes a soft noise of appreciation. "Can't help it," he mutters, "when you're walking around my kitchen in my clothes like this."

"I know," you retort. "That's why I do it."

"You're a bad girl, aren't you?" He teases. "I like that."

Marcus's fingers start to dig into the flesh ever so slightly, and you hum in amusement. This man is obsessed with your ass. He never says anything, but his hands always gravitate there–when you're standing next to each other like this, or when you're straddling on the couch, when you're on your knees on the bed taking everything he has to give, or even in the afterglow laying beside you, with one finger tracing your curves in reverence.

You want more than caresses and light squeezes. You want his tongue, his fingers, you want him to slowly, carefully push his cock inside of you. You wonder if he ever would.

You already know that Marcus Pike is much dirtier than his sweet personality would have you believe–you've seen it in the way he can utterly ruin you in bed (or any surface he can get you on). His dirty talk is unparalleled–murmuring it in your ear, urging you to take it for me, oh, fuck, baby, take it all.

He's never asked, but you just know by the way his fingers dig in so intimately close to your little puckered hole that he wants to take you there, too.

You start to leave little hints here and there. You buy a bottle of lube and put it on Marcus’s nightstand. You constantly wear thongs, enticing him with the sight of your bare cheeks underneath more borrowed t-shirts when you stay over at his apartment.

You even leave an explicit video up on your iPad for Marcus to find. It's one of your favorites–featuring lots of teasing with a sleek jeweled plug, then fingers, before his cock slowly dips just inside, teasing her with the tip again and again until finally sliding home.

You've never done it yourself, but you can't stop watching it in videos. You can't get the image of Marcus patiently working you open before giving you his cock out of your head.

You "accidentally" leave the iPad at his house over the week. If Marcus finds the video, he doesn't say anything about it, although when he opens the door to you on Friday night, his jaw does seem a little more tense than usual. He's always a model gentleman, treating you nicer than anyone's ever treated you before. He's kind, gentle, sweet, and loving, but part of you longs for those kid gloves to come off, for him to let go and lose himself in his pleasure. To take something for himself.

You know exactly what you want him to take.

After dinner, the two of you cuddle on the couch with the pretense of watching a movie, but you straddle him almost immediately, pressing your core down against his stiffening cock ad you subtly rock your hips.

As always, his hands come up under the skirt you're wearing to grab your ass and squeeze, using his grip to guide the movement of your hips.

"Fuck, you're killing me, baby, you know that?" Marcus says breathlessly as you lean down for a messy, passionate kiss.

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460 notes - Posted September 16, 2022

Best Bike Crash Ever

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Bike crash, descriptions of an injury, hospital visit, one very fluffy kiss

Summary: After a hit and run at a crowded intersection, you are suddenly very intrigued by your rescuer–the cute FBI Agent who just happened to be a bystander.

A/N: I can’t do angst today. As a little break from my series, I finished this fluffy little one-shot up to post on a Monday. Everyone needs fluff on a Monday.

You bring your bike to a halt at one of the busiest intersections in the city. It's congested on any day, but on Memorial Day Weekend in Washington, D.C., the thing is damn near impassable.

Your gaze flits around the cars with disinterest as you wait for the signal to cross. The car closest to you is one of those black, unmarked cars with the distinctive look of a government vehicle that are ubiquitous in this area of the city.

You like to make up stories about the people inside them sometimes as you're walking. This one, you decide, is a crooked CIA agent who's secretly an assassin on the side. Right now, he's on his way to the National Gallery of Art, where he'll sit on a bench and pretend to study a painting, but instead he's waiting for someone to drop off the envelope with his next assignment.

You smile to yourself as the light turns green and you jump back on the pedals to turn onto Pennsylvania Avenue.

You don't see the car attempting to run the red light until it's too late.

At first all that registers is pain. Then, you realize that there is someone beside you, speaking to you in a steady, low voice.

"Breathe," the voice says. "You're hyperventilating. I need you to take slow, deep breaths with me."

You focus on the person's face–a man, wearing a suit, with warm, kind eyes. He asks you your name, and you tell him in a strained voice that you hardly recognize.

The man repeats your name back to you with a soft smile and you feel your breathing start to slow a little.

“My name is Marcus,” the man says in that same calm tone. “I’m an agent with the FBI. I’m gonna help you, okay?”

“Okay,” you gasp. God, everything hurts. Your whole body feels as if it’s on fire, but especially the side that you had landed on. Why did it feel like you couldn’t move your arm?

"Did you hit your head?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Don’t think so… landed on my arm." And then you look down at it for the first time.

It's… well, it's definitely broken. Arms aren't supposed to bend that direction. The pain your brain registers doubles, triples, and your breath starts to come in sharp gasps again.

Marcus snaps his fingers rapidly in front of your face. “No, don’t look at your arm, look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”

He speaks with a quiet authority that makes you automatically obey, tearing your eyes away from the injury and looking up at him.

"There you go. Keep taking deep breaths–that's it, you're doing so well."

You can't help but hold his gaze. He's so… disarming. He's making a show of breathing in and out slowly, intending for you to follow his lead, and you do–concentrating on the rise and fall of his chest.

“This can go two ways,” Marcus says, when you're no longer panicking. “I can call you an ambulance and wait with you, or we can go to the hospital right now in my car.”

Ambulances are expensive, you think. Out loud, you say, “C-car?”

“Good choice," Marcus says with a smile. "Now, we need to splint your arm before we move you. It'll help keep your arm immobile. I'm going to go get some stuff for a makeshift splint from the car and I'll be right back."

You finally notice the black car parked beside you. There aren't any lights on top, but you can see blue and red flashing from behind the dark windows. You realize that it’s probably the car that had been beside you before you had tried to turn.

You watch as Marcus opens the trunk and comes back to your side with an umbrella and a faded FBI t-shirt. He immediately starts ripping the shirt into strips and you must gasp because he looks over at you with a wry grin.

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493 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

Break

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader wife (no y/n)

Rating: E (smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Descriptions of a break-in, BAMF!Marcus, protective!Marcus, multiple mentions of a gun, competency kink, Marcus knocks someone out. Then we’ve got GUN KINK in a big way. dom!Marcus, explicit consent and kink negotiation, restraints, gunk kink I say again, Marcus ‘King of Aftercare’ Pike, good communication.

Summary: After a terrifying night where someone breaks into your house, you realize that you have a very specific, forbidden fantasy about your husband and his job.

A/N: This is a direct follow-up to the little break-in drabble I posted ages ago. I’ve included it here at the beginning for continuity purposes–so this fic can stand on its own–but if you don’t feel like reading it a second time, feel free to skip to the first break. This is a gun kink fic. Please heed the warnings. If a gun going anywhere inappropriate bothers you in any way, please do not click read-more. I don’t know why I wrote this lmao I hate guns. This is written with the ‘Born to Run’ couple in mind because they’re my favorite vehicle for exploring kink and BDSM, but you don’t have to read that series to read this at all.

You didn't know what awoke you, at first, but here you were–suddenly wide awake next to Marcus some time in the middle of the night. You tapped your phone. 1:12 AM. You were about to roll over and try to go back to sleep, when you heard it.

The crash of broken glass, as if something had broken a window. You sat up, heart pounding. Thud. You could hear it–someone was in the house. Your house that you shared with Marcus. You shook your husband awake.

"Marcus. Marcus!" you whispered through clenched teeth.

"Guh?" Marcus shot up at the sudden awakening.

"Marcus there's someone in the house. I heard–" you began frantically.

Instantly awake, Marcus put his hand on your arm to quiet you. You both sat up in bed, listening.

Creak-creaaaakk

A floorboard in the kitchen? Oh, God. You could feel yourself trembling.

Marcus was out of bed in an instant, reaching inside the nightstand drawer for his gun. He drew it out, along with the clip, which he always kept separate for safety. You watched as he expertly engaged the clip, cocked the barrel, chambering a bullet, and thumbed off the safety, all in one swift, practiced motion.

You forgot, sometimes, what an incredibly capable man your husband was. Dangerous, even.

He fixed you with a stony stare, jaw set and eyes as black as the night around him. You had never seen his face look like this, in all the years you'd known him. Despite the obvious terror of the situation, you felt a frisson of desire run down your spine.

"Stay here," he whispered. "Do not move from this spot."

You rapidly nodded your head up and down, and then watched as he opened your bedroom door carefully, his gun pointing ahead of him as he stared down the hallway. You watched him, cataloging every movement of his tense body, until he stepped forward and disappeared from view.

You tried to keep your breathing soft and even so you could hear something, anything, above your own frantic inhales and the sound of your heartbeat.

You counted each trembling breath.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Fi--

A crash sounded from downstairs and you shot up, your heart in your throat. You heard Marcus shout "HEY," in a deep, intimidating voice that you barely recognized as being his. "DROP IT."

Marcus yelling was terrifying. He wasn't a yeller, in general. His voice got quieter when he was upset, and he was frustratingly even-keel, so even those moments were few and far between.

You listened to the horrifying thumps and crashes that followed. You heard a few sharp exclamations from Marcus, and some grunts from another, unfamiliar voice.

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496 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

All the Time in the World

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Rating: E (SMUT, 18+ only)

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: body insecurities, internalized shame around sex and orgasms, use of vibrators, oral sex, fingering, PIV sex (unprotected, but let’s pretend they had that talk “offscreen” because they’ve been together for 2 months), Marcus Pike being the Absolute Fucking Most(™)

Summary: You’ve never been able to climax without the aid of a vibrator. Due to your insecurities and internalized shame, you rarely involve any toys during sex with a partner, and have been “faking it” for years. You and your new boyfriend, Marcus Pike, have been taking your relationship very slowly–building up a beautiful connection without ever having seen each others’ bedrooms. Two months in, neither of you can wait any longer. How will Marcus react when he discovers the thing you consider to be your deepest, darkest secret?

A/N: I know I said that this was on the back-burner until my OTHER Marcus stuff was completed, but then I got such lovely (and heartbreaking) responses to a snippet of this WIP that I picked it up again and couldn’t. stop. writing. This fic wouldn’t exist without @ezrasbirdie ‘s Going Slow, which is the only other fic I’ve read out there that deals with sexual dysfunction, and I can’t post this without acknowledging that her fic really paved the way and made me want to write about MY experiences, however personal, vulnerable, or “unsexy” they might be. It’s really fun to read (and write) about people with clitorises who can have multiple orgasms in one session, by intercourse alone, or by their partner just touching their clit, like, one time. This is not always the case in real life, a fact that is not well-represented in fic despite being very common. I think we should acknowledge that sex and pleasure can and do look different for everyone and can still be fun and sexy to read about. This is the fic I always wanted to write with Marcus Pike. I mentioned in the tags when I posted a snippet of this fic that the reason I write sooooo many Marcus fics is because I’ve kind of made this man an outlet for my trauma around this exact subject. When you’re too insecure or ashamed to prioritize your pleasure, sex can be fraught, even painful. If you’re reading this fic and think, “Hey, that’s me!” please know that you are NOT alone, it’s TOTALLY normal, and you deserve a partner who encourages and prioritizes your pleasure.

Additional thank you's to @leslie-lyman for reading this over and being so lovely and encouraging in the DMs, and to @katareyoudrilling for letting me bare my heart and soul to a stranger on the internet, as one does. I love you both.

Main Masterlist

"Do you wanna come up?"

Those words are always laced with meaning, but with your new relationship, they seem even more significant.

It was no secret that your new boyfriend, Marcus Pike, has had a rough go of things before you started dating. And really, so have you–hence why both of you insisted on taking this fledgling relationship very slowly. It has been two months–two incredible, happy months–since your first date, and the two of you have developed a beautiful connection over dinners, walks, movies, lunch dates, even baseball games, without ever having seen each others’ bedrooms.

You know that you’re falling for him. How can you not? Marcus is considerate and kind, with a secret goofy side that you know he usually tries to hide. It seems as if his arms are meant for cuddling, and he’s generous with his affection, even though the two of you had agreed to keep things chaste until both of you are ready. He doesn’t shy away from difficult conversations, and he’s been forthright about his past hangups and flaws. It’s refreshing, and the fact that he’s so damn earnest makes you want him even more.

The minute those five little words escape your lips, Marcus’s gaze turns to full-blown lust. It’s been really important, really meaningful, to wait–but both of you are at the peak of sexual frustration, and you both know it.

It doesn’t help that Marcus is absolutely gorgeous, with those deep eyes, artfully mussed hair, broad chest and deliciously soft tummy. You and your vibrator have become very close over the last two months, when you would come home after yet another wonderful date staring at his full lips and feeling his large hand at the small of your back, or holding yours as you walked.

One of those hands comes up now to brush the backs of his fingers across your cheek. “Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

“Absolutely,” you answer breathlessly, the word more air than speech.

Marcus leans in close, a small smile on his face as he stops just short of your lips. “Lead the way, then,” he murmurs. You push down a pang of anxiety. You like him so much, want this night to be perfect, but you know better than to assume your body will cooperate. You wonder if he’ll mind if you… if you don’t…

Marcus’s hands travel as you ride the elevator up to your floor–the touches growing bolder, more blatantly sexual than they’d ever been before. He pulls your back flush to his front as the floors tick up, kissing a gentle path down the side of your neck as his fingers scrape over your hipbones and down, his hand resting just above your mound like a promise.

You waste no time when you finally open the door to your apartment–kicking it closed and then grabbing Marcus’s face and pulling it towards yours for a desperate, longing kiss. He makes a surprised little sound and returns your passion in kind, crushing you to him with an intensity you’d never felt from the man.

“C’mere,” you mumble hastily when you come up for air, and you pull him along until you’re stepping into your bedroom. The rush to take each others’ clothes off is more than a little frantic–both of you practically ravenous after so much time spent longing for one another. Shirts and pants are discarded haphazardly in your rush to feel skin against skin. You move to the bed in a tumble of bodies. Marcus is loud–groaning in your ear as he palms your ass and grinds his hips against you.

“Wanted–fuck–wanted this for so long, baby,” he says into your neck. “Been… been wanting to feel your skin against mine, be able to touch you…” he trails off as he starts to move down your body, kissing and nipping with enthusiasm.

“Better than I ever imagined,” Marcus murmured, as he brushes his lips softly–the barest of touches–against your clit, making you whimper softly.

He starts out so gently, licking you as if he’s simply exploring the area–unhurried, leisurely, patiently. As if he’s doing it just for the enjoyment of it, for the feel of your soft skin against his tongue. Every so often, his eyes flick up to meet yours, gauging your reaction as he eats you out.

It feels amazing, of course, but you feel that little tinge of anxiety starting to grow, knowing that even with his obvious enthusiasm and dedication, it probably isn’t going to be enough for you to come.

You and your stupid body.

You aren’t sure how much time he’s been down there already, but you know it’s probably conspicuously long. Suspiciously long. It doesn’t help that you’re starting to freak out a little, stressing out over the time–wondering if you should… should you stop him? Would that insult him? Most guys would have given up by now, and the fact that he hasn’t–fuck. The last thing you want to do is hurt his feelings. You like him so fucking much. You don’t want to ruin it.

Marcus, who is obviously unaware of your inner struggle as he flicks his tongue over your clit and gently thrusts one finger into your soaking cunt, says “Gonna come for me, honey?”

And you know he doesn’t mean to telegraph impatience–he probably meant it to be encouraging, but after he asks the question, you feel the pleasure that he had built up retreating quickly as you stare down at him with an anxious, apologetic expression.

“It’s, um… it’s not–I usually… I-I usually need a vibrator, it’s not you, it’s–” you babble.

See the full post

581 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Of All the Gin Joints...

Rating: E (SMUT, 18+ only)

Word Count: ~7k

Warnings: Oral sex, fingering, PIV sex, rough-ish sex, good aftercare (Marcus ‘King of Aftercare’ Pike y’all), one (1) spank, lil bit of a praise kink for Marcus, soft dom!Marcus AS ALWAYS lmaoo

Summary: You and Marcus are both trying to re-enter the dating scene after bad relationships, and you’ve been set up on a blind date. You really hit it off, but after a few dates, it seems like Marcus is being really distant. Before you can ask him about it, you run into someone from Marcus’s past…

A/N: This is from a prompt from @imtryingmybeskar for my 400 follower celebration! My dear, I hope you like it! It's certainly long-winded. They asked:

Could I have a Marcus story where he is with reader, perhaps they're on their first few dates. He hasn't told her about his past yet because he's trying to play it cool but then somehow Theresa and Patrick are at the same bar/restaurant as you and...well I don't know. Does it turn into an awkward double date from hell? Does it make reader realise how much she likes him? Does it all go horribly wrong? Or something else?

“I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on, Pike, you’ve gotta get back out there sometime,” says Agent Miller around a large bite of salad.

“I don’t think going on a blind date is a good way to re-enter the dating scene,” Marcus argues, poking at his own lunch. “I need to build my confidence back, not get it torn down,” he adds with a self-deprecating laugh.

“How else would you go about it?”

Marcus raises one eyebrow. “Well, I like to start with talking to the person first, finding common interests, letting it develop organically, that kind of thing,” he grumbles sarcastically.

“That’s not exactly how dating works in the age of Tinder,” replies the other Agent.

“I don’t care how Tinder works,” Marcus says emphatically. “I’m a traditional kind of guy, and I don’t plan on changing that.”

“Oh, that’s a good strategy,” responds Miller. “Who knows, maybe this time it’ll work out for you.”

Marcus glares at him. “Are you going to keep insulting me for the entire lunch hour, or are you going to take a break to eat?”

“Just listen to me on this one. She works at the Smithsonian, she’s an Archaeologist or something. You have a lot in common–she just got out of a relationship and is trying to get back out there, same as you. All you have to do is have dinner the once, and if it doesn’t work, you just walk away. Simple as that.” Agent Miller takes another huge bite of lettuce, and Marcus looks down at his own plate in thought.

“If you’re wrong about this, you’re not allowed to try and give me dating advice ever again,” Marcus declares.

“That’sh th’spirit!” Miller answers, before swallowing. “You’ll like her. Trust me.”

Marcus isn’t sure if he’s disappointed that the coworker he considers to be more of a ‘frenemy’ than a friend turns out to be correct in his judgment, or just happy that, yes, the woman he had been set up with is beautiful, smart, talented, funny, and all-around perfect for him.

She appears just as nervous as Marcus feels when she walks up to him at the bar in the restaurant she had chosen for them to meet. The booth where they end up being seated is too cozy, the already-flickering candle on the table casting a romantic glow that seems wildly inappropriate for the occasion, and Marcus spends far too long debating whether or not to blow it out as he pretends to peruse the menu. It's too much. Is he being too much already?

Marcus eventually decides that extinguishing the flame would be more conspicuous than leaving it be, when the waiter comes back for their orders. He chooses an entrée at random–having been too preoccupied with the candle dilemma to actually read the words on the page–and when he finally really looks at her for the first time, he realizes he can see all of his anxieties reflected back at him in her eyes. He feels himself start to relax, just a little.

She tells him she works for the National Museum of the American Indian, then immediately launches into a little mini-rant about her area of study–pre-contact Mississippian civilization in the Midwest–which Marcus finds both relatable and endearing. She tries to apologize for veering into a debate about ancient pottery firing methods, but Marcus only smiles kindly and asks her more targeted questions about her research.

She stares at him, stunned, and tells him that no one else has ever listened without their eyes glazing over, let alone asked her to elaborate.

That's when Marcus decides he is absolutely going to kiss her goodnight.

And he does–eventually, after a walk through the National Mall (where she excitedly tells him all the details of her “favorite” mound at Cahokia, the archaeological site she goes to every summer to excavate during field season). Her energy is addicting, and there are so many little ways their disciplines overlap–mainly when it comes to the looting and illegal selling of antiquities, which they talk about at length.

When she launches into a tirade about Hobby Lobby, Marcus can't help but laugh and thread his fingers through hers as they continue their walk.

When the two of them arrive at her modest little townhome, she bites her lip shyly and asks, in the smallest voice Marcus has heard from her all night, if he’d maybe like to do this again sometime.

Marcus finally allows himself to step in close and he brings his hand up to gently caress her cheek as he assures her that yes, he would like to see her again, and soon.

And then, giving her plenty of time to anticipate the move, he slowly closes the distance between them, bringing his lips to hers in an achingly tender kiss.

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641 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

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mediawhorefics · 2 years ago

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hiii marie i watched tsn last night and probably just spammed your notes with tsn rb's (sorry!) and i remembered you were writing the tsn fic! i'm super super excited to read it and i was wondering if there was a snippet you might be able to share with us? thank you <3

omg !! i just saw kjnvjkfds pls know you are welcome to spam my tsn tag whenever you want !!! i always feel like i'm annoying when i go on a tsn reblog spree or a tsn fic related reblog spree rip. (tho it's my blog i guess i can do whatever i want!) anyways i'm glad to know someone is enjoying that tag <333 (LOVED your 'i watch tsn like a queer drama' addition.... so true bestie)

and yes ofc i can share a snippet of the fic !!! no one has really asked before so thank you !! it's so nice to know some people are excited for it. idk how much you know about it? i've talked about it here and there, but basically, it's a you've got mail post canon au where mark gets signed up to a super exclusive mostly anonymous dating app for rich people against his will (dustin and his meddling, honestly!!) and he ends up falling head over heels in love with someone on there only to find out it was eduardo all along (she sings to the tune of agatha all along). anyways it's this very cheesy romcom trope-y story where mark basically has to realise that the only 2 times he's ever been in love were actually with the same person and if he wants to have peace of mind and true happiness he needs to earn eduardo's forgiveness and own up to his mistakes. it's gonna be so kitsch i can't wait to post it !!! it's this 100k monster rn and there's still a fair bit of plot to go on rip. i'm rambling now sorry, i've just been having soooo much fun with it and i don't get a lot of occasions to talk about it haha.

anyways here's a snippet that i thought wasn't tooo spoilery??? hope you'll like it !!! tw i gave them the world worst's usernames because i thought it would be funny af haha. apologies it's still unpolished and needs some edits but:

Mark never particularly liked the cold growing up, but there is always something eerie to him about December silently creeping in without much of a fuss in California. It always seems a little wrong to his New York State grown bones, his Harvard in winter thickened skin. Oh, the temperature drops, for sure, their equivalent of ‘cold’, but Mark recalls Massachusetts freezing winter days, him in his shorts in the snow and a disapproving Wardo staring after him, begging him to please put some clothes on, Mark’s skin prickling under the wind as he ignored him. Winter in Palo Alto is child’s play in comparison, which is the point of living there he supposes. It’s nice, but it’s strange.

Feels off.

It feels even more off when he knows he’s not gonna bother going back home for the break this year – like most years, let’s be honest – and get his fill of razor-sharp wind and bone-chilling cold.

Winter always reminds him of the early days of Facebook; him glued to his laptop day and night in his freezing dorm room, pages and pages and pages of code that weren’t quite a website yet fighting to get out of his brain and onto the screen, and Dustin, Chris and Eduardo, a constant warm presence he was barely aware of hovering at his back. Especially Eduardo.

And speaking of Eduardo, winter always reminds Mark of him too, despite his best efforts.

Eduardo, who never liked the cold, not after spending his seminal years in Brazil, then Miami, who always struggled through the sunless, frozen, winter months he spent at Harvard, even though he never wanted to admit it.

It reminds him of Eduardo’s shivering body that night he approached him with the idea for Facebook, cold cold cold cold, but listening to Mark about his idea outside in the January air all the same, the two of them alone on the cusp of something great. They could have been the only two people on Earth that night in the whipping wind. It’s what it felt like to Mark anyways, what it always felt like to Mark. Them against the world. Before The Phoenix, before Christy, before Sean…

Wardo would have liked Palo Alto, Mark thinks that December morning as he makes his way to work and a slow melancholy takes hold of him, the way it always does what that kind of thoughts take root in his mind.

He would have enjoyed the almost perpetual sunshine, the heat, the cool people he would have fit with so easily, the way Mark never could no matter how long he’s lived here…

Mark sighs, taking a second in his assigned parking spot to compose himself. This stupid Gala he has to attend next week has been messing with his brain ever since Dustin discretely informed him that Eduardo Saverin has confirmed his presence to the event as well.

And it’s fine. Eduardo can go wherever he likes. Especially when he’s invited. Mark isn’t his keeper or anything. And he’s proven many times in the past that they can be in the same room without yelling at each other. Well, most times anyways.

But he’s always a little unsettled when he knows Wardo is stateside, the needle of his Eduardo inner compass all over the place, trying to reorient itself when it realizes that Far Far Away is no longer that far. Which is probably why he always feels like his heart is about to explode when they’re in the same room.

It can’t be regrets, because Mark forbade himself from feeling those a long time ago.

But it sure is something.

He still feels a little itchy after a few minutes alone in his car so he gets his phone out, composing a quick text for eswag82.

Winter always makes me melancholic, he types, something so incredibly soothing about the comfort of an ally, a friend, a confident, never further away than his pocket. Reflective. I start remembering things I never would normally think about. I don’t know if it’s seasonal depression or something, but… I’m always getting sad over nothing. Over stuff I should have been done with a long time ago. But I can’t help myself. It’s like December hits and suddenly… Do you know what I’m talking about?

Mark sighs as he sends the text: time to face the music.

The day passes quickly between meetings and coding and important phone calls… He doesn’t have the chance to check his personal texts until late in the afternoon but when he does, miraculously, warmth permeates through the cold of the approaching winter and spreads through him like a sip of burning hot coffee.

I know exactly what you’re talking about, E writes. Everything slows down in winter, including us. We have the time to get reflective and melancholy. So many holidays in so many cultures too. A time of celebration, of togetherness. That can be challenging when you don’t feel particularly joyful. Or in my family’s case, together. Seeing what it should or could be highlights what it isn’t sometimes, yk? Or at least it’s like that for me.

I’m sorry, Mark writes back, feeling angry again on E’s behalf for that family that doesn’t make him feel welcome, doesn’t make him feel like he can be himself.

It is what it is. I haven’t gone back home in a while now and this year won’t be any different. Sometimes taking care of yourself looks like neglecting others from an outsider’s perspective, but… I can’t worry about that.

I’m not going home either this year. I’m busy, which is true, but it’s also… I don’t think I could stomach it. It’s been a while for me too and they’re great, but I still feel like I’m on the outside, yk? Like I’m looking at them through the windows and no matter how much I want to, I can’t go in.

Mark swallows hard. He swallows back down more feelings of rejection and more fear that no matter what he does it’s never enough to belong. He swallows back down the fact that he created Facebook to be part of the club and he now fears he elevated himself so much higher that he can never fit in anymore. And he doesn’t even like people that much, he’s always said so, but the older he gets the more he feels they can be tedious and still part of his life anyway, that being alone at the top might not be the end goal he’s looking for anymore.

#about me #my fics #tsn fic #tia

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