#and if you hate me for tagging you I'm so so so sorry and it will never happen again:(

[parfaitblogs]

hard times ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid doesn’t follow through one time, and you really hate that he has a psychology degree.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: daddy issues. shoutout to the girls with inconsistent fathers this ones for you. established relationship. readers mentioned wearing makeup, a dress and heels. rational bf!spencer reid fuck i would hate a profiler bf. word count: 1.8k a/n: not a trauma dump fic not a vent fic do not read into this fic at all don't even start to speculate on my life and where these emotions came from they're all fake made up not real make pretend. no photos no aesthetics just me, a tumblr account, and a dream for this baddie.

In all your months of dating Spencer Reid, he had never forgotten anything. Not a date, not a work event. Or, at least, he's never forgotten to call. Even when you had been so busy one week you could barely spare him more than a ten minute phone call a day, he remembered what was going on in your life enough to be there for you. 

A false blanket of security draped over your relationship, is what it is now. 

A blanket he seemingly had no trouble ripping off you a random Friday evening, throwing it in a fire and watching it — and your trust in him — burn into dust. 

Perhaps a tad dramatic for what was happening, but you were always one for theatrics when it came to your emotions. Usually, he welcomed it. He was (abashedly) similar, after all.

Not that he was even here to welcome it. 

You'd looked pretty. You'd felt pretty. Past tense, for your shoes were strewn somewhere across the floor after throwing them in frustration, and your makeup was ruined after unwelcome tears had streamed down your face an hour ago. You had been ready for a dinner date you and Spencer had scheduled in only three days ago — penciled in, for you never knew what his work schedule was going to end up being.

You're not sure how long you sat in that one spot on the couch, mind going through every single possible scenario that could've happened between the text he sent you that morning saying he was excited to go out tonight, and the lack of his appearance this evening. 

The logical conclusion is that he got too busy, and he forgot. But Spencer Reid's whole thing is that he doesn't forget. Oftentimes he considers it a curse. You never really agreed with him. Until now, it seemed. 

The less than logical, emotionally driven conclusion, is that he actively chose to stay at work to avoid coming home because he didn't want to see you. Or he didn't actually want to go to dinner, and he didn't know how to tell you. Or his team offered to go out and he'd rather hang out with them instead of you. 

Really, the reasons are endless, and any rational conclusion was lost on you. Mind swallowing you whole as you continued to stare off into space, visibly shaking and head beginning to pound from the crying.

A glance at the clock told you it was near midnight by the time you heard the door handle rattle and twist open, tired, puffy eyes blinking to adjust to the light filtering in from the apartment hallway. 

"Hey. Why're you out here? It's late. I thought you'd already be in bed," Spencer rambles absentmindedly, voice so disconnected from you it only made the ache in your chest worse. As he flicks the light on and assesses the state of the apartment, he asks, "What're your shoes doing on the floor?"

You blink a few times. Was he pretending to be dumb on purpose? 

You stand on cramped legs, stretching them for the first time since you'd sat unknowingly on the couch nearly six hours ago, dress bunching around your waist. You didn't bother to fix it. 

Like a switch, he clicks, his bag sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a thud, realisation settling into his features. 

"Our date. Oh, God, I'm so sorry, angel."

"Yeah. I'm sure," you croak, voice hoarse as you pick up your shoes pathetically in front of him, the heels clacking together as you walk towards your bedroom door. 

He calls your name, and after you make no effort to return to him, you hear his feet against the wooden flooring, carrying himself to you.

You're in the ensuite, beginning to take makeup off you probably should've removed four hours ago. It was stupid hope you held on to, anyways. 

"You're upset. I know. It was awful of me to forget our date," he stands in the doorway, staring at you through the mirror. Even indirectly, you can't make eye contact with him. 

"You forgot," you repeat back to him, almost dumbfounded. "You forgot?"

"Forgot isn't... the best word," his fingers dig into his eyes for a split second, and you watch him think. "I got caught up at work. We had a case, then we didn't have a case, then we did, so we started looking into it, and time just... escaped. From all of us."

"Time just escaped."

Your parroting wasn't doing much to further the conversation, and you watch as Spencer averts his gaze to the floor to take a deep breath, before his eyes land back on you again.

"It isn't the best reason, I know. But it's the truth," he says. 

"Uh-huh," you mumble, discarding your cotton pads stained with your makeup into the trash. 

"Can you stop being evasive?" he catches your wrist before you can return to the sink. "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" you ask, almost earnestly. "It's okay that you forgot, Spencer. I won't take it personally at all, and things between us are just dandy!"

"I want to know what you're actually feeling," he replies, voice flat with his irritation, before he forces himself to soften it. "I can't reassure you if all I know is that you're angry."

"Hurt. Forgotten. Disregarded. Disliked. Irritated we're doing this in our fucking bathroom."

At that, he leads you into the bedroom, turning the ensuite light off. "Forgotten and disregarded are synonyms, so I'm assuming that's what you feel the most."

"You're the psyche expert," you mumble, bitterly.

"I'm not trying to be your psyche expert," he quips, and your heart sinks. "Why're you feeling forgotten?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded, for a beat. "Because my boyfriend quite literally forgot about me?"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"—No, you're right. You just forgot about the date that you literally fucking texted me about this morning!" you snap, voice rising in a way that makes you cringe. Yet, you can't stop it. "You! Spencer Reid! Forgot!"

"Don't yell at me, please," he takes a step towards you; you take a step back. 

"Why did you forget? Did you choose to? Are you pretending that you forgot about it all to save your ass?"

"No," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I didn't. I told you what happened. You're choosing not to believe me."

"How am I meant to believe that? It's a shit excuse—"

"—It's the truth—"

"—God, you can lie, Spencer! Men lie!" 

He goes silent, as do you. You become trapped in an uncomfortably intense staring contest with him, as you watch his brain slowly tick over and decipher what you were saying, and come up with a response. Yours, however, splits open with your own self hatred. Disdain for what you had just said to him.

"Okay," he exhales, very slowly. "I'm going to tell you what I think, and you can tell me how right I am."

"You're going to profile me?"

He pauses. "I'm sure it'll come off that way. I'm not trying to," when you don't protest again, he continues. "I think you're less upset about the fact that I didn't come home for a date, and more about the fact that I didn't message you about it. I've not shown up for dates before. I've always contacted you prior to let you know. And I've promised I would always contact you if something came up that interfered with our plans. Ultimately, I said I would do something, and I didn't follow through. That is on me, and I'm sorry. What isn't on me, is how you're reacting. Which is childish, honey. You're acting like a petulant child, and I don't mean that as an insult, because I'm almost certain I know why."

Your silence is his cue to continue, but he pauses to collect his thoughts. Your lower lip is beginning to wobble, and he feels awful.

"You know how our childhoods affect us," he says, and the second what he's about to say to you clicks in your brain, your teeth clamp over your lip, and your eyes drop to the ground. "Reactions from parents to things we do, things others do, things they do, all builds up in our subconscious. Having a parent who didn't show up for you time and time again, built up in your subconscious. So yes, you're reacting to me not following through with something childishly. I will not take that back. But that reaction is not your fault. It's in response to a trigger, and the person in control of that emotional response is not adult you. It's the little girl who got let down by her father. I won't ever hold that against you."

Your sniffle breaks the deafening silence that follows his tangent. You allow him to envelop you into a hug, at which you break down into a fit of sobs akin to the ones from earlier. 

"I hate you," you stutter out in between sobs, voice muffled by his chest. 

"You can't say that while hugging me," he counters. It was true, as your hands had wrapped around his waist just seconds ago.

"I hate you," you repeat, punctuating your words with a poke to his back. 

"I love you," he replies, instead. His fingers thread through your hair as he cradles your head with his other hand. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you about being busy."

You swallow the lodged sob in your throat with a hiccup. "I'm sorry I acted like a petulant child. And I'm sorry that my dad sucks."

"I'm sorry your dad sucks too," you feel him kiss the top of your head. "Have you eaten?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, and he pulls back, hands slipping down to your cheeks, catching the tears. 

"Do you want to eat?"

"The restaurant we were going to is closed," you mumble.

"Maybe. But the Thai place isn't."

"I'm pretty sure it is," you counter, and his eyebrows furrow. "It's past midnight now."

His face falls, he waits a beat, before his hand drops to your own, and he's tugging you towards the door of the bedroom. "Okay. Fine. Well, the Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed."

"I asked for pasta last night and you said the kitchen was closed."

"You asked at three in the morning," he deadpans, as you make yourself comfortable on one of the stools. 

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen is never closed," you mock his voice from earlier.

"The Spencer Reid Kitchen rules are made by Spencer Reid."

"The rules should be lenient of Spencer Reid's girlfriend."

"Do you want pasta or not?"

"Yes," you quickly say with a firm nod. "Sorry."

He spends the first hour of that Saturday making you pasta; and making up the missed date.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[xxchumanixx]

Beach Adventures

Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

Summary: Pedro takes the opportunity to fuck you at the beach.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni!, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), fingering, multiple orgasms (two), filthy talk, implied age gap (because, let's face it, we're all much younger than him), established relationship, porn without a plot

Word Count: 5.289

Authors Note: What. Did. I. Do. I don't know. But this video of Pedro? It sent me down a spiral I wasn't ready to be pushed down. This was living in my head rent-free since then, and i think it's time it does something for its stay! I hope you'll enjoy this. Never did anything for Pedro before, so this is kinda new. Also, it's been a while since I did smut, so, please, cut me some slack.

Enjoy!

You should have known he'd take that challenge - and succeed it.

Making you horny at the beach on your vacation? Yes.

Making you come on his fingers at the beach? Yes.

Fucking you at the public beach? Triple that yes.

Pedro sat in the reclined chair under the parasol at the beach, busy reading the book he had brought along for the Christmas holidays. You were sitting in a chair right beside his, bathing in the sun. He'd be lying if he said you weren't distracting him in your tiny swim suit.

You stretched a bit, the sun making you sleepy. "How's your book?" you asked, eyes still closed.

He chuckled softly at your comment, seeing as your eyes were still closed. Clearly you hadn't been paying attention to the world around you for a short moment. "It's alright. Very well written, but a little boring for my taste." he admitted, closing it for a brief moment just to admire the view of you in your swim suit. "How's... sun bathing going?"

You hummed. "Good." you said. "Though I'm sorry for the book. I know how excited you were about it."

He shook his head, waving it off almost immediately. He set the book to the side, turning his chair just a tiny bit to see you even better. "It's alright, babe. Can't like everything right?"  

You hummed once more. "That's true."

His hand moved up onto your leg, running up and down your thigh absentmindedly. It was a very subtle move, but clearly, he was in need of some entertainment.

"Are you getting sun burnt yet? You've been laying there for a while - I'd hate for you to turn red later.” he mused.

You snorted under your breath. "I have some very good sunscreen." you told him. "Don't worry. I can still turn onto my front if you're scared, though."

He chuckled. Despite the fact he was enjoying the view of you lying there, he'd much rather see you on your stomach anyway. Less... distracting. "Oh yes, that would be much better. Don't wanna miss any spot while applying more sunscreen you know, gotta make sure everything is covered in SPF."

You hummed, turning onto your stomach. "You're absolutely right." you mumbled.

The sun felt so nice. It was a nice distraction from everything. Holidays meant no work, no events or galas to attend to. No dressing up, no socializing. Just Pedro, a couple friends, and you.

His eyes scanned you up and down, admiring your naked back and how the thin straps of your swim suit kept you from being completely exposed. Pedro didn't mind, he could easily pull those tiny strings...

He leaned forward, a small smirk forming on his face. His hand moved up and down your naked back, touching the smooth skin.  

You sighed, relaxing into the chair.  

He chuckled softly at your reaction, enjoying the fact he could get a reaction out of you just by touching your skin. He moved his fingers to the straps of your swim suit, pulling it a little.  

"Would you mind if I took the straps off? So I could apply the sunscreen everywhere?" he wanted to know. 

You repressed a snort. Right, for the sunscreen. "No, go ahead."  

He smirked as you agreed. He was going to have a lot of fun here. His fingers moved around your body, pulling the straps off of it, exposing you almost completely. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in every inch of it in the process. 

He grabbed the lotion, squirting a bunch of it into his hand, before slowly spreading it across your soft skin, covering you in sunscreen from the top of your neck all the way down your back.  

"Pedro?" you mumbled his name. "Are we gonna go to that little bar we saw yesterday, later? It looked really nice."  

He raised an eyebrow absentmindedly, his hands continuing to move across your body. He was just getting to your lower back now, massaging the sunscreen into your skin, not realizing you were talking at first until he heard you say his name once more.  

"Hm?" He hummed, snapping out of the trance he had been in for the past few minutes. "Bar? Yeah, we can do that. I could use a few drinks and some music."  

"Everything okay?" you asked, though you already knew what was going through his head. Being an actor meant for him being very busy and on the run most of the time, which left little time for... other activities.  

Chuckling, Pedro leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lower back, not caring about the sunscreen he’d just applied there. He couldn't help it, you just looked so good, completely exposed for him to see and touch...  

"I'm perfect, baby. Just got a little... distracted. That's all." He moved up onto his knees a bit, his hands slipping a bit further down your body. "We should go somewhere a little more... private, though."

You snorted softly. "Why?" you asked. "The sun's feeling so nice."  

He chuckled, continuing to spread the sunscreen across your body, until he was on your legs. Once on the tops of your legs, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to one thigh and then the other.  

"You know exactly why, baby.” he mumbled into your skin. “You don't need your thighs exposed to the world, not when I can take my time with you in private..."  

"Didn't you do that this morning already?" you mused. The morning had indeed been... busy, causing you and Pedro to miss breakfast. 

He hummed. Yes, they did do some... things earlier that day, but that felt like ages ago, and not nearly enough to satisfy him completely.  

"I don't need a reason to enjoy your body again.” he gave back. “Or an excuse, for that matter. You should know that by now, mi amor."  

"Oh, I do." you sighed. "Why do you think I brought this swimsuit?"

Snickering, he ran his hands up and down every soft curve of your body. “You mean this little thing?" He tugged on the fabric of your top, enjoying how little it covered. "I do love it. Almost too much, darling...”

You chuckled quietly at his words. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his eyes traveling the length of your body once more. "It looks so... good.” he mumbled dreamily. “Really reveals your curves. I love it." His hands ran up and down your legs now, taking his time to caress your smooth skin. His touch on your thighs almost lingered just a bit longer than necessary.

"I'm glad." you mumbled. "Picked it just for you, mi amor."

He hummed happily as you called him that, his hands now moving to the inside of your thighs and then up to the tiny fabric strip of your swimsuit in the middle. He tugged on it a little as if testing your limits.

"You're trying to kill me here, aren't you?" he asked.

You grinned softly. "Only a bit."

He chuckled, continuing to tease you with his touch. His hand reached over, picking up the lotion again, before squeezing some onto your thighs, spreading it across your soft skin.

"You're gonna end up going to that bar with a little... problem, if you keep this up.“ Pedro murmured.

You huffed. "What problem?"

Chuckling again, he continued to spread the lotion, moving further and further up your legs, until his knuckles were brushing against your bikini bottoms.

"Oh, I think you're smart enough to figure that one out, mi vida. Unless, of course, you want me to explain myself?"

"Please do." you breathed out, though knowing exactly what he meant. "Wouldn't wanna risk a misunderstanding."

He smirked, his hand moving just a little higher up and around your body. Then, very subtly, he moved his finger against the front of your bikini bottoms, pressing it right against the sensitive area there, not doing much, just touching.

"I think you know exactly what's about to happen if you push me a little further, darling."

You swallowed, heat rising up your spine. "You sure?" you asked, keeping your voice steady. "‘Cause I'm not."

He chuckled. You were testing him, challenging him. It excited him, though, knowing you wanted to see how far he'd go. He didn't mind showing you one bit.

"You're a naughty little tease." he breathed out, slowly applying pressure to your sweet clit with his finger, rubbing it gently and teasingly through the fabric, just to see your reaction.

You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your hips from moving. "Am I?" you asked. "And here I thought that part was yours, old man."

He smirked at you calling him old, knowing fully well by now that was only for the purpose of riling him up. He loved it.

"Old man? That ain't very nice, darling." He mused, rubbing over your clit a little rougher. He was trying to find your limits, testing your patience.

"Ain't it?" you breathed out, the slightest bit of strain to your voice. "Just stating facts. You're older than me, I was told to show respect to my elders."

He snickered. "Elders aren't the same as old men, mi amor.“ he said. „I don't think you're showing much respect here. Not with the way you're teasing me, at least.“

"Not doing it on purpose." you tried to defend yourself, though it was a clear lie. "Maybe a little."

He smirked, continuing to rub your clit. Slowly, but surely, rubbing a little faster every time he moved his finger. He loved teasing you too, just to see when you'd give in.

"A little? You're doing it on purpose entirely, mi vida. You love to tease me, and you enjoy every second doing it." he gave back, brows furrowing slightly.

You bit your cheek, a strangled breath leaving your lips. "Just tryna test your durability." you said. "Fifteen years aren't nothing, baby."

Pedro chuckled, continuing is ministrations on your clit before moving his fingers across the edge of your bikini bottoms, teasing you with the idea of slipping them underneath them. He knew you couldn't last much longer, but you knew he was just as weak as you were.

"Hmm, you mean you doubt my durability, darling? Is that what you're trying to say here?" His voice was low, his words barely above a whisper.

You bit your lip. "I'm just tryna look out for you, Josè." you said. "Can't have you getting bored with me."

He chuckled and bit his lip, leaning down and whispering in your ear. "Oh, I could never get bored with you. Not after seeing you like this, mi amor. So beautiful, so... desirable." Moving his fingers back to your clit, he added a little more pressure, just enough to send a jolt through your body. "And that's why you won't ever have me get bored in the first place.“ he added.

"Hngh- that's good to know." you pressed out, inhaling shakily. "You're being mean, Pedro."

He chuckled, his touch getting more intense the longer he continued. He loved to tease you like this, loved the way you reacted to his touch. He knew he was close to breaking you. All he had to do was push you just a little bit further.

"Oh, I'm being mean, am I?“ he mused. „Well, maybe you should've thought about that before you decided to tease an old man like me, darling."

You scoffed. "That's not fair."

He smiled, leaning closer to your neck, his lips brushing against your skin. "Not fair?“ he echoed, his hot breath fanning against your skin. „It's not fair that you tease me, knowing what it does to me. And it's not fair that you keep testing me, just to see where I break, when we both know damn well that you aren't lasting much longer either.“

You bit your cheek. "We're at the beach." you breathed out.

He smiled, whispering against your skin, his hand running the risk of pushing your bikini bottoms to the side once more, but not quite getting there yet. He loved the reactions he was getting out of you so far, he loved the way you breathed faster, the way you squirmed. He loved it.

"No one's nearby.“ he mumbled. „They're all more towards the entrance of the beach, mi vida. We've got the corner all to ourselves..."

You huffed quietly. "Still wanna go to that private place?"

Pedro pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his hand moving across the crotch of your bikini bottoms. He was testing your limits.

"A private place would be nice, yes." he whispered to you. "Or we could stay right here, see how far you'll let me go...“

You swallowed, heat rising farther up your body. "That was the purpose of the question, Pedro.“ you gave back, doing your best not to squeeze your thighs together.

Pedro’s fingers found your clit again, slowly beginning to move them in circles once more. He whispered into your ear, his voice low, rough.

„I just want you to admit it, mi vida... Are you desperate for me, darling? Do you need me as much as I need you right now?"

"Always, Pedro." you breathed out. "You know that."

He chuckled, gently kissing your neck again. That admission from you was more than enough for him. He knew you needed him just as bad as he needed you. Without warning, his fingers moved the fabric of your bottoms to the side, his fingertips brushing against your bare, sensitive folds.

"How much do you want me, mi vida?” he whispered. “You need my touch? Need it so bad you're letting me do this right here in public?"

You swallowed thickly, the wetness pooling between your legs intensifying. "Yes, Pedro." you breathed out. "So much."

He hummed happily at your words, pleased with your response. He pushed a single finger inside of you, though not moving it yet.

"You'll need to stay quiet for me, mi amor.“ he murmured. „We wouldn't want anyone to see us, after all. Could you do that, darling?"

You bit your lip, leaning your forehead against the backrest as you let out a strangled breath. "Sure."

Pedro chuckled, moving his finger slowly in and out of you, eliciting a broken moan to spill from your lips. His movement was steady, but he didn't want to rush things just yet. You had time.

"Are you sure you can stay quiet?“ he wondered out loud. „Because you're not being all too quiet right now, mi amor. Just imagine what the others would think if they saw you right now... You're not as good at holding in your sweet little noises as you think you are."

You breathed shakily. "Yes, Pedro." you mumbled as your spine seemed to liquefy to lava. "I can.”

He smiled, chuckling softly in your ear. He knew you couldn't, he knew you would break eventually. But damn if it wasn't fun to tease you like this. He pressed a kiss to your neck.

"We shall see, mi amor. We shall see..."

His finger kept moving, steadily getting faster and rougher as he went along. Continuing to listen to you for now, he paid attention to any noise, any whimpers, or even the smallest of moans you let out.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breathing. White hot pleasure nipped at your nerve endings, want and desire swirling through you.

Pedro knew what he had to do. He moved his finger faster, pressing his lips to your neck, moving up and down the sensitive skin there.

„That’s it, mi vida. Just focus on your breathing.“ he whispered to you, his movements not stopping anytime soon. „Good, good. Just breathe…“ 

You squirmed, feeling lightheaded already. „Pedro.“ you breathed out. „You’re not helping.“ 

„I know.“ he whispered, his lips pressed against the sensitive spot behind your ear. He was enjoying getting this reaction out of you, enjoying this game of his. 

„But I want to see how bad you need Me. How bad you’re craving my touch.” He pressed a kiss to your neck again. „You’re holding out longer than I expected you to, mi amor. Maybe you deserve a little more?“ 

„Please, Pedro.“ you breathed out. For someone so innocent looking he clearly wasn’t. 

He chuckled softly to your begging, amused by your submission to him. He hadn’t expected you to break that quickly. But now that he had you so desperate, begging him… Who was he to deny you, mi amor? 

„You’re doing so good, mi vida. So good for me.“ he whispered to you, moving his finger inside of you faster for a second, before pulling it out and moving it up. He found your sweet nub again, rubbing against it before he started moving his fingertips in figure eights, adding pressure as he went. 

You drew in a sharp breath, hips bucking almost automatically into his hand as more heat crept up your spine. You whimpered, desperately trying to keep quiet. Maybe it hadn’t been your best idea to do this out here. 

He grinned against your neck, enjoying the reaction he got out of you. You were so perfect, so responsive to his touch. To him. He loved it, loved the way you bucked your hips into his hand, trying to get more, the way you whimpered so quietly, trying to keep it in. 

„Shhh, mi amor. Remember you need to stay quiet. You don’t want the people nearby knowing what we’re doing.” he reminded you. As if he had to. “Do you?“ 

You huffed. Or the press. That’d be a headliner, though. Pedro Pascal fucking his younger girlfriend at the public beach. „I know...“ you groaned. Your hips already ached, the coil inside of you winding tighter and tighter. 

„Don’t let out too much more noise, mi amor.” Pedro said, his tone almost a whine as his strong facade crumbled. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer if you keep whining and whimpering like that." 

You whined on purpose, biting your lip, hard. Fuck! you thought. He was driving you right towards the edge of sweet bliss. 

Pedro heard the whine, knowing that meant he was pushing you closer to the edge. He couldn’t hold back anymore, he was too excited and needed you just as bad as you needed him. He gently bit down on your exposed neck, hard enough to leave a mark, causing you to hiss. 

„Hush, mi amor.” he whispered, tongue brushing over the mark. “We’re still in public. Hold back the cute little noises you’re making and I promise, I give you whatever you want later.” 

„Please, Pedro.“ you whimpered, squirming underneath him. „Need you now.“ 

He chuckled in your ear, enjoying your begging. He was getting close to losing control, losing any sense of decency. But he wanted to get you off before he took care of himself, wanting to see you finish first. Hearing you whimper had him losing his composure, so desperate to do it right then and there. 

You whimpered as he picked up the pace, leaving you trembling as you teetered on the edge, gasping for air. „Pedro,“ you breathed out. „I- I’m-” 

He smiled as he heard the desperate way you were begging for him, knowing you were close, and he didn’t dare stop now. 

„Shhh, mi vida. I know… I know you’re close, mi amor.“ he whispered soothingly, wanting to send you over the edge. „Don’t hold it back, mi amor. I‘ve got you. Let go.“ 

You squirmed, drawing in a shaky breath before you squeezed your eyes shut, covering your mouth with your hand as you came, violently clenching around nothing. Your body trembled, hips bucking wildly. 

He could still hear the sweet little whimpers leaving your throat as you came for him. Just hearing you like that almost sent him over the edge on its own, his own breathing heavy in your ear as he helped bring you back down from the high. 

„That’s it, mi amor. Good, good. You did so good for me, mi amor.” 

You gasped for air, trying to steady yourself. Fuck. 

He pulled his hand away, letting you catch your breath for a bit., moving his hands back up to your thighs. He wasn’t done with you yet. „You did such a good job holding back your sweet litle moans, mi amor.“ he whispered to you, leaning down and pressing small kisses to your neck. „Now I think you deserve a little more.” 

You swallowed, wanting nothing more than for him to just fuck you into oblivion already. „Please...“ 

He pressed more kisses to your neck, his hands moving back to the edge of your bikini bottoms, tugging at them. „Please what, mi amor?“ he teased. “You need to tell me, darling. Use your words.” 

„Please fuck me, Pedro.“ you breathed out, not caring how desperate you sounded. You’d go crazy if he wouldn’t be inside of you soon. 

„There you go, mi amor.“ he mumbled, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin, fingers slowly pulling your bikini bottoms to the side once more, exposing you further to him. He loved the sight. He’d never get tired of it.  

„That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.“ he mumbled, leaning down a bit, pressing a kiss to the top of your spine before moving his hands and cupping your ass, squeezing slightly. 

Another sight he’d never grow tired of. He groaned quietly as you wiggled underneath him impatiently, your ass swaying with every movement. Yet he was just as impatient. Pulling his swimming trunks down enough to free his throbbing cock, he gave it a few pumps. He would have been lying if he said he hadn’t already been leaking into his trunks as he’d taken care of you. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” he mumbled, using his precum to lubricate himself. 

„I’ll be quiet.“ you gave back. „I promise.” 

„Good girl.“ he mumbled, positioning himself, before slowly and gently beginning to rub his aching length against your glistening folds, letting the friction build up for a few moments. 

You suppressed a moan, inhaling shakily. He was riling you up and you loved and hated it. 

He smiled, moving his hips just a bit faster. 

„You’re being very quiet, mi amor.” he mused. “Are you actually serious about keeping your promise?“ 

„Yes.“ you breathed out, eyes fluttering. „Yes, mi amor.“ 

Humming happily, he moved his hips again, a subtle hint that he was going to push in, if you were ready. You pushed your ass further up, as good as it was possible in your position. 

„I’m going to hold you to that promise, darling.“ he whispered, his hand gripping onto your hip a bit tighter. 

With one final movement, he finally pushed inside, stretching you oh so deliciously. He moved his fingers back onto your hip to steady you, whilst he sank further and further into your warmth, hissing as your velvety walls clenched and fluttered around him in response. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with a gasp as he split you open. Fuck, so big. You would never get used to his girth, no matter how often he’d fuck you. 

He listened to your reaction, enjoying the way you gasped with a small grin. He always loved to hear you like this, cherishing the moment he’d sink into you. He rarely did it fast, too greedy for the way you reacted, nearly sucking him in. 

„Pussy’s so good to me.” he mumbled, his breath hot against your neck.  He wanted this to last for a while, but he didn’t know how long he could hold out.  

You shivered at his words, clenching around him. He hissed in return, huffing a breathy chuckle. He knew you did it on purpose, and damn if he didn’t love it. 

Slowly, he started moving his hips, trying to be gentle and not rock the chair – or worse, topple it over. It wouldn’t have been the first time, yet he didn’t need it to happen right here where everyone could see. 

He moved slow, wanting to enjoy this, every gasp, every whimper that left your lips. „You're so good for me, mi vida.” he breathed out, hips rutting into you a bit faster. “Pussy’s been made for my cock, huh?”

You clenched around him, sighing his name. “Only for you, baby.”  

A soft moan left his mouth as he felt you clench around him once more. „So sweet and eager for me.” 

He thrust a little harder, faster, effectively fucking the thoughts of other people possibly seeing you out of your head. Leaning closer, his chest brushed your back as he angled his hips to push deeper. 

You moaned quietly, his name leaving your parted lips. „More, please, Pedro.” you whimpered. 

He pressed a kiss to your neck, grinning against your skin as he heard you moan his name again. As you asked for more, he moved a little faster, his hand slipping farther down your body. 

„That’s it, mi amor… Moan my name for me.“ he whispered, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. He could tell he was getting close already, but he wanted to be absolutely certain you were getting what you needed first. Not that he had any doubts that you were enjoying every second of this, considering your whimpers and sounds, but he wanted to make sure. 

„Let me know when you’re close, mi amor. Want you to finish before me.“ he breathed into your ear, teeth tugging on it lightly. 

You clenched around him once more at his words. Always so considerate. „I will“ you breathed out in a whimper. „Want you to come inside of me. Want your cum dripping outta me, Pedro.” 

He moaned hearing your words. Hearing you telling him exactly what you wanted was just so damn exciting, so hot… it pushed him right towards the edge. 

„Anything you want, mi amor.” he promised. “Will give you anything you want, mi vida. Anything you need.“ 

His movements were getting rougher now, not bothering to hold back from you anymore. He didn’t need to. He could trust you, he knew you wouldn’t give them away to anyone. He just knew. And that allowed him to forget about everything else, just focus on you and this moment right there. 

„Do you need more, mi amor? Are you getting close, mi vida?“ he wanted to know. 

You whimpered in return. „More, please?“ you asked. „Your fingers, please, Pedro. Can feel you twitching already.” 

He growled against your skin, wrapping his arm around your chest, holding you firmly, so he could use his other hand for you. „That’s it. That’s my good, sweet girl. Asking for what you want, being so desperate for me. I like that, mi amor. I’Il give you what you need.“ he mumbled directly Into your ear, the words sending chills through your body as you listened to them. 

„Move your lower half up for me a little, so I can take care of you, mi amor.“ 

You did as you were told, lifting your hips a little. 

Pedro hummed happily feeling you move, giving him a better angle. He was pretty certain that nobody from the beach would be able to see anything from here, and he didn’t care either. All he cared about right now was you and that you needed him. His hand slid down your body, feeling down your stomach for a moment, until it was able to move the fabric of your bottoms aside once more. His fingertips found your sweet clit, rubbing over it in small, quick movements, wanting to please you. Sure, he could have taken his time, could have made you come on his cock alone, but he didn’t know how much time you had until someone would question what was going on under your parasol. He wanted to make sure you felt good, and make sure you’d reach your peek. 

You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gasped, hoping no one would hear you. 

„Shhh, mi amor, you’re being so good.” he praised you. “Being so quiet. Such a good girl for me. But I know you’re close.“ He moved his hips a little rougher, moving them in a steady, quick pace now, matching his fingers. He was getting close, and he was starting to get desperate, but he never forgot about your needs. 

Moving his fingertips in quick, small circles, he knew it would almost certainly send you over the edge. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last, but he didn’t care. It was all about you, about making you feel good.  

The pleasure was mind numbing, the way he fucked you always so good. It didn't take long for you to teeter on the edge.

You stiffened slightly in his hold, hiding your face in the backrest of the chair as the coil tightened, and you fell apart, desperately trying to muffle any sounds.  

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he heard you finally let go, falling apart for him. It was an amazing sight when he was able to make you finish, and he loved it. Just then though, he was unable to hold back. You clenching around him, your noises you tried to keep quiet… He finally gave in, coming inside of you, gasping into your ear as he breathed your name over and over again.   

You whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Perfect, just perfect. 

He pressed kisses to your neck, trying to catch his breath, still holding you against his chest. He needed you close, he just needed to feel you against him, needed to be close to you right in that moment. You grounded him like no one else did.

„I love the way you sound when you come for me, darling.” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “It’s so sweet and perfect. The sounds you make... I love them. I love every part of you…” 

You smiled, still trying to calm your breathing „I love you, Pedro.“ you breathed out, exhausted.  

He chuckled softly into your neck, holding you close against his chest and kissing your neck a couple times. „I love you too, mi vida. So much. You’re perfect.“ 

He slowly pulled out, pulling your bottoms back into place. As much as he would have loved to just stay there with you, he knew they eventually had to move. He had no intention of leaving you anytime soon though. He was happy here on the beach. 

You whimpered involuntarily when he pulled out, sighing deeply as you sank further into the chair. „You’re too good to me, Pedro.“ you mumbled. „Leaving me full of your cum.“ 

He chuckled into your neck, loving how you spoke to him. He was already addicted enough to you, but hearing you using such filthy words... He pressed another kiss to your neck, his own breathing still a little heavy. „I’II always take care of you, mi amor. And I love taking care of you, especially in this way… I can’t deny you what you need, especially when I’m getting something out of it too.“ 

You huffed a chuckle. „Sounds just fair.“ 

He smiled, holding you in his arms, just enjoying the moment before anything else. „It does sound fair, doesn’t it?“ he mumbled. „There is one disadvantage to this, though.“  

You frowned, turning your head so your cheek rested against the backrest. „What is it?“  

He moved his head a little bit, leaning it against yours, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. „I'm not going to be able to let you wander around this beach again wearing just this without thinking of what I’m going to do to you in this seat again.“ 

[namism]

Oooo maybe a fluff/unspoken feelings piece w Kid??

i love | eustass kid

➳ categories: modern au, female reader whose stepbrother is killer

➳ warnings: lots of swearing

➳ word count: 1.5k

➳ summary: Something about your relationship with Eustass Kid is unexplainable, but it's the type of unexplainable that you're comfortable with, no matter how odd it may seem.

➳ notes: i'm sorry if this is too niche, i had a vision tho 😭 most of his personality is based on these headcanons. thanks for the request! ❤️

➳ cross-posted on ao3

"Shit. Bad date again?"

You can't see his face, but Kid has a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as he emerges from the driver's seat of his run-down pickup truck, a hand-me-down from your and Killer's uncle that Kid and his crew of metalheads use to drive to showcases in the city. He bangs the door closed, pockets his keys, then walks over to your seated ass on the curb.

"Shut up," you mutter. Kid sits beside you, and that's when you notice that he's holding a bottle of beer. He pops the cap open with his teeth, but you snatch it from his hands before he could take a sip. "You can't drink. It's late, and you're driving me home."

"It's just beer," he deadpans. Even then, he doesn't try to wrest the bottle from your hands, instead choosing to watch you take a depressive swig. He chuckles. "How was your shitty date?"

You glare.

"You asshole— how many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't a date? The beer tastes awful, by the way."

Kid is taken aback by your statement more than your aggressive manner of shoving the bottle toward his chest. The liquid sloshes around the bottle upon impact, and at that moment, the smell of bitter hops reaches his nose. He places it down on the asphalt and clasps his hands together.

"I got it from your brother. Blame him," he says. Your expression turns sour at the mention of Killer. "I would never risk a DUI while driving you home."

"Prince Charming," you tease. Kid is your stepbrother Killer's best friend, who you happen to be close with after many tag-alongs to gigs and shows in your city. Killer is convinced that you're closer to Kid than him with the frequency of your meet-ups and last-minute pick-up requests, and at the rate you're going, he's kind of right.

Kid sneers.

"Let's talk about your shitty date."

You roll your eyes.

"It wasn't a date."

"It looked like it to me. You don't wanna give the dude a chance? He sounded like a nice guy."

"Never in a million years. Anyone within a ten-mile radius from him would know that you're lying through your teeth right now." Pulling your knees to your chest, you gently lay your head on top of them. "I rejected him. He ran out of the diner as fast as he could. Thought everybody was pitying him because his ego couldn't take a rejection."

Kid smiles again, but this time wider. You went out with a guy tonight because you were too kind to reject his past advances, which more often than not attracted public attention when you didn't want them to. You tried to turn him down a couple of times before, but he couldn't get the hint. When he asked you out yesterday to dinner, you decided to reject him once and for all, with Kid and Killer's support.

Now that you've rejected the guy, Kid feels fucking fantastic. He hated him with his guts because he wouldn't leave you alone. Still, he loves to tease the fuck out of you, loves to play dumb and provoke you further, just to spark your enraged reactions because you look like a cute barking puppy.

Swirling his tongue in thought, Kid decides to pat your head with his big rough hand, ruffling your hair just a bit as he praises you.

"That's my girl. The next time he approaches you, try kicking his balls."

"Wouldn't that count as assault?"

"He harasses you, so what's the deal? Tomato, tomato; potato, potato. Defend yourself, please."

You laugh. "What the fuck?"

Grabbing the beer bottle, Kid rises from his seated position and offers you his hand. You stare at it, blankly.

"Come on, I'll take you somewhere you'll like."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"And where is that?"

"Answering would ruin the surprise. Just come with me, will ya?"

In the blink of an eye, you're Kid's passenger princess as he drives you to who-knows-where, an occurrence in your strange friendship that happens every so often when the both of you are left alone with a car full of gas. You roll down the window and make sure that no vehicle is passing by before sticking your hand out, feeling the wisps of cool air nip at your skin. When you move your head past the window, Kid hooks his fingers on your belt loops and pulls you back down.

"Fuck no, sit back down. No head-sticking, only your hands."

"But—"

"Your brother is gonna kill me if I bring you home headless. Hands. Only."

You stick your tongue out at him, but Kid only rolls his eyes. He lets you do whatever you want as long as you're not a second close to dying, often looking at you go wild in the passenger seat as he drives.

Minutes later, the truck slows down to a parking lot, a small rink built right in front of it.

You're the first to hop off, approaching the rink with blown irises as string lights scatter about to set a mood of warmth. It's not any other rink; it's a roller rink, perfect for rollerskating, perfect for two people to share a moment of intimacy.

"I'd much prefer iceskating, but this will do."

Kid holds up two skates in his hands, one of which seems to fit you nicely in a color you love.

You get on the rink as soon as you can, planting your feet on the ground as he hooks his fingers yet again on the loops of your belt. You sneer at him as he adds to your weight.

"Well, aren't you a big baby? Always leeching off me, never letting go," you say.

"Blah, blah, blah, it's a precautionary measure."

"You and precautionary measures don't go together."

Kid grabs you by the waist and turns you around, pushing you up against him. Your feet give up, but his hold on you is firm.

"Just like oil and water?"

You hit his chest.

"I hate you! Don't scare me like that!"

"That's what you get, brat." His lips morph into a grin while you hit him with weak punches. He laughs at your helplessness. "You get surprised by the simplest things. What I did right there was romantic for anyone but you."

"That was not romantic."

"What did I just say?"

"I hate you," you mutter. He laughs softly.

"Do me a favor and get yourself a guy who can treat you like that," he says. Your stomach turns, and your eyes fall to the ground. "You got a problem?"

"No, I don't."

You abruptly bump into him in an attempt to knock him over his feet, but he remains standing. At that moment, he traps you within his arms through a big embrace.

"So what's the hold up? Still stubborn?"

You punch his bicep as you squirm in the hug.

"You know why," you tell him.

"I do?"

"Ugh..."

You stop wriggling around. Kid feels something coming up.

You place your hands on his chest.

"You know why I don't want to date anyone else. You know."

"I know," he whispers. "So why can't you just say it out loud?"

"It's not that I can't say it— it's just..." You suck in a deep breath. "Is now the perfect time for it?"

"I don't know."

He guides your hands from his chest to his face, allowing you to cup his cheeks and touch them gently.

"But if you don't say it now, then when will you?"

A breathy laugh escapes your lips as you look at him. This isn't how you expected your day to turn out, but you aren't mad about it.

You like Kid.

You always have, and you know he likes you, too.

"I'll just show it to you."

You pull his face closer to yours and meet his lips. Kid leans further down to deepen your kiss, but he stays sweet and gentle, a complete 180 degrees from what people usually expect from him. The kiss is slow, like you've been meaning to do it for a long time and you don't want to rush the movement. Kid matches your pace perfectly, and he lasts longer than expected as he doesn't seem breathless when you pull away.

"Was that demonstration good enough?" you ask.

"No." He shakes his head. "I think I need another."

You hit his chest another time.

"Ouch, baby. You hurt my feelings."

As Kid feigns discomfort, you pull him close to your face again and peck his cheek.

"Do I have to say it?" you ask. "I love..."

He smiles.

"Nah, fuck that. Just show it to me. Took us long enough, honestly." He pinches your cheek. "I finally got you."

When he lets go of your waist, you race around the rink while he tries to catch you.

Something about your relationship with Eustass Kid is unexplainable, but it's the type of unexplainable that you're comfortable with, no matter how odd it may seem.

[smiggles]

........how would your gender be a worm? you're a person? thats the weirdest response ive ever seen to try and get away with upsetting someone im ngl its screaming "i have a neo gender so i can do no wrong so clearly everyones an asshole for pointing out when im being in the wrong" like bruh its ok to upset someone and apologize theres no need to try and get special behavior and claim insects are genders like my guy touch some grass please your a really cool artist and id hate for this to be the reason i block because you dont wanna admit you triggered someone accidentally

People control their internet experience. It has nothing to do with my gender other than the fact I will be posting worms and if someone doesn't like worms

Then I'm not the blog for them. I'm not going to apologize for being myself in my space. I'm not here to please you or anyone else.

Yes. Insect is a gender. Sorry you're living life where there's no whimsy.

Im a GORE blog. I am by definition a trigger. Come here at your own risk. Learn how to follow and/or block tags. If you want to see something without following an entire blog then

Just follow the tag dude. I'm a very compassionate and patient person. But not when you come to me expecting me to be an Internet Pleaser.

You might be used to being able to wave around a block like it's a weapon at other people but im a 32 year old man. I'm a worm. I live in the grass.

:3 i hope you get to be a worm soon too ♡

[joelsprettyprincess]

Taming of the Shrew - Part 2

Pairing: dark!Arthur Morgan x f!reader Summary: Although you've ended your relationship with Arthur, he gets you to agree to one final rendezvous. Series-wide tags: Toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, smut, secretly unprotected piv, babytrapping, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, slight canon-typical misogyny. Wordcount: 3.7k A/N: I was not expecting that much love on part 1! I'm so glad yall enjoyed! Here's part 2 and where things get juicy 🤭. And before you ask, yes they had condoms in 1899!! They just weren't very good.. Also, I do not profess to be an expert on pregnancy, I just looked things up and hoped for the best. 😭 Sorry if anything's inaccurate. This chapter contains smut. And as always MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Tags: @dandelion-ranch @i-will-give-you-love @amaranth-writing @heloixe @buneio @warmsideofthepillow03 @thoughts-of-bear @luzzbuzz

Part 1 Part 3

Several days had passed since you told Arthur to never speak to you again.

You didn’t mean it. You couldn’t have. Your love, though short, had burned like a phoenix: though it was currently snuffed, Arthur knew it would soon rise again.

He knew better than to approach you again, though. So he wrote a letter.

My love.

My darling, my princess. I am in pain while writing this. Not because of any physical injury, but because I miss you badly indeed. My heart burns for you, for your touch, your skin on mine, even just one last time.

I am certain you feel the same way. If you do, please meet me at our spot near Ringneck Creek at noon next Monday.

I swear this will be the last time I will contact you. If you don’t show, I’ll know your decision is final. However I know you will. I know our love was something real. Please don’t make a fool of me.

Forever yours,

Arthur

Arthur posted the letter on a Monday, giving you nearly a full week to make a decision. He was on edge after that, wondering if you would actually show. Would you bring your father, or even a bounty hunter, to capture him? Or would you just not show at all?

Thankfully most everyone in camp left him alone; the news of your loud departure had spread fast. There was the occasional ribbing from Micah, but he was like a mosquito buzzing in everyone’s face. Arthur paid him no mind.

Dutch told him it was a waste of time. 

“Women are a complete mystery, son,” he told him Sunday night, puffing on his cigar. “Trust me, you’re better off being single forever.” He didn’t seem to care that Molly was behind him in the tent, hopefully sleeping.

But he didn’t know the inner workings of Arthur’s mind. Didn’t know what he planned to do.

Monday morning, he bathed and trimmed his beard. As much as he hated to admit it, Arthur was nervous.

He scoffed. Headshotting O’Driscolls barely raised his heart rate, but the thought of seeing you again had him jumpy like that Kieran boy.

Arthur rode over to the spot early. It was a good isolated spot a little ways away from the creek, where you two had slept together a couple times.

He spread down a blanket and cleaned his guns while he waited for you.

About half an hour later, he heard the crunching of leaves and turned around. Your familiar form entered his field of vision; suddenly, Arthur was breathless.

You were here. You’d actually come. And you appeared to be alone.

You hitched your horse next to his, then came down to the blanket. “Hey,” you said, smiling softly.

“Yes, well.” You smoothed your skirts. “Just can’t help m’self, I suppose. But listen, Arthur…this is the last time I’m seeing you. Seriously. I don’t even know why I came here–”

Arthur pulled you down beside him. “You came.” He cleared his throat. “I knew you would.”

“Alright, shh,” Arthur interrupted, taking your hand in his and softly pressing his lips to yours.

“Mm,” you sighed, immediately melting into his touch. He might be rough around the edges, but Arthur surely knew how to treat a woman. You’d already forgotten what you were gabbing on about.

Arthur wasted no time in deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue past your lips. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, one hand cupping your cheek and the other on your hip.

You spent a few minutes exploring each other’s mouths and letting your hands wander. Eventually your positions shifted so Arthur was nearly laying on top of you. He spoke again.

“Come back,” he whispered. “I can’t live without you.”

That voice. It was sweet as honey. It made you want to follow him to the ends of the earth.

You avoided his gaze, pursing your slightly swollen, glazed lips. “Arthur, I can’t–”

“You love the bloodshed,” he spoke in your ear. His hand went under your skirt and ghosted over your bloomers. “You crave it. Stop actin’ like you don’t.”

“No–”

Arthur silenced you with another kiss, capturing your lips and claiming them as his, as he had done so many times before. Yet it never got old; the lusty looks and burning touches lit you on fire.

You whimpered as he slipped his hand inside your bloomers.

“We both know this doesn’t lie,” he murmured, barely grazing your folds. He kept his bright eyes steadily focused on you while he used just one finger to tease you.

A quiet moan escaped your lips.

Arthur seemed eager to get on with it. He lifted your skirt and removed your underthings, carefully setting them beside you on the blanket.

“Did my pretty girl miss me?” he breathed, massaging your thighs. You whined just a little, already anticipating his touch.

Arthur traced your bare cunt, enjoying watching you squirm.

“Arthur,” you whispered in a choked voice. 

He shucked off his pants, then laid down between your legs. 

Arthur was gentleman enough to service you first. He put your legs on either side of his face, and breathed in the natural scent of your pussy, again barely grazing the already soaked lips with his finger.

“S-Stop teasing me, dammit,” you moaned. He smiled. It was almost fun to see how quickly he could get you to come undone, begging for his touch.

Arthur started with small licks on the inner parts of your thighs. Your legs immediately tried to come together, but he held them apart and kept licking. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to stay still. 

He traveled up your thighs and paused just before he got to your cunt. Taking two fingers, Arthur spread your lips apart, marveling at the amount of slick already coating your entrance.

“Ah- ah, d-don’t- mmgh,” you cried. His touch was so depraved and satisfying. 

Arthur dove in, pushing his tongue into your warm, sticky entrance. He gripped your thighs with his hands and held them up as he fully ate you out. He got messy with it very quickly, suckling on everything he could get a hold of.

You cried out and gripped his hair hard, bucking your hips. This kind of pleasure was completely unheard of and forbidden for girls like you, and that made it all the more filthy. You loved it. You loved every second of it. No man had ever touched you like this before, and you doubted any man ever would.

He removed his mouth for a second and rubbed circles around your sweet spot. “You’re lovin’ it, aren’t you, sweet girl?”

You breathed in and out loudly. “Yes,” you whined shamelessly. 

Arthur pushed his tongue back in, appreciating how your walls tightened around him. He swore he could feel your heartbeat, pulsing in time with his.

You grinded against his face, spreading your juices everywhere, going crazy at the lewd noises being produced.

“Arthur– oh, Arthur, yes, please–”

You were getting close. It never took long for you to cum, but apparently you were touch starved right now.

Abruptly, Arthur pulled back from your pussy, breathing heavily and licking his lips.

You panted too. “Why’d you stop?”

He paused, then quickly pulled off his boxers. Oh.

Arthur pushed you down again and rubbed his girthy, veiny cock up and down your soaked pussy. 

The thick mushroom head was poking at your entrance, and you wanted to let him in, but…

“Do you have…protection?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Course.” He pulled a condom packet out of his pants pocket. A primitive thing, to be sure, but it was part of the plan.

Arthur pulled it on, then nosed his tip so it was just breaching your entrance. You sighed loudly, spreading your legs a bit more.

He pushed in. A creamy noise was produced, but even louder was your pained moan. It was a stretch to fit him in, even when he had prepped you first.

This was only the second time he’d gone all the way like this. There was no reliable way of avoiding pregnancy, so you simply didn’t allow him to do it. But this was a special occasion. After this, you were done with each other, forever.

Arthur sighed and pushed into you even further, watching your pussy lips greedily suck in his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “Letting me in so nicely.”

He started to thrust in and out slowly. You threw your head back and panted, whining loudly and mumbling his name.

His cock repeatedly filled you to the brim and you squeezed your tight walls around him. Your juices quickly coated the condom, allowing him to more easily push the rest of his cock in.

Soon he was pushing in and out, all the way to the burst of hair at his base. Arthur groaned lowly, biting your shoulder and holding onto your hips with his big hands, kneading your ass.

After a few minutes of bliss, he shifted positions; Arthur pressed your legs almost to your chest and held them there, hitting deeper and deeper into your sticky cunt. 

You moaned loudly, finding his hair again and holding it tightly. His full balls slapped against your ass.

“Like that?” he muttered. “You like that, you uppity little–” He groaned loudly, going faster and rougher.

“Arthur, Arthur,” you sobbed, curling your toes. “Please, I’m g-gonna–”

With a muffled cry, you came undone on his cock, toes curling, legs shaking, cunt spasming and letting out more of your juices all over his cock and the blanket.

“That’s right, let it out, sweetheart,” he gasped. “I’m close too, baby, shit–”

Arthur pressed himself into you and stilled, panting, eyes tightly shut. You could feel his cock twitching as he rode out his orgasm in your soaked through cunt.

His lips collided with yours in a sloppy, desperate kiss, and he slowly thrusted a couple more times before pulling out.

The condom was smeared in your juices.

Arthur sighed. “Hopefully it didn’t break. I tried to get a good one.”

You chuckled nervously. “Hopefully not.”

He helped you clean up, wiping you down and putting your clothes back on. You hoped his smell (it wasn’t a bad one, just distinct) wouldn’t cling to your clothes.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” you told him as you prepared to remount your horse. “But if you ever decide to stop being an outlaw…you know where to find me.”

“I love you,” Arthur said simply.

You flushed, and looked away. 

“Goodbye, Arthur.”

You rode off.

Arthur waited till you were out of sight to smile.

You were really gullible. A condom, seriously? Even pulling out was more reliable. These things broke more easily than a cheap lock. Even if it hadn’t, he’d cut a small hole into the tip that ensured he’d painted your walls white. If it dripped out, you would probably just assume it to be your own juices.

Now it was just a waiting game.

Two months later.

Your maid, Elisabeth, stared at you frightfully as you bent over a bucket for the 3rd time this week, vomiting horribly. You breathed heavily, then vomited again. There was nothing even in your stomach, which made it so much worse.

“Are you alright, ma’am?’ she squeaked, standing by with a towel.

You were too nauseous to answer. You clutched your stomach, head spinning and mind racing.

Your stomach had been in shambles this week and the last, and it was getting concerning.

After a few labored breaths, you grabbed the towel and wiped off your mouth. “Let's visit the doctor.”

Elisabeth gave you some cool water to sip, which helped a bit but not much. You could hardly stand to get on the carriage, and then it was like you were on a merry-go-round with the way it was hitting every bump in the road.

You leaned over the side and emptied your stomach yet again.

It was possible this sickness had a terrifying explanation, one that you couldn't even begin to imagine. Lord, protect me, you prayed despairingly. 

One agonizingly slow and nauseating ride later, you pulled up next to the doctor's office. Elisabeth had to coax you down, and she was clearly scared you would projectile vomit on her. The world was swimming around you and had a hazy feel.

You stumbled into the office and leaned against the cool wall.

“You alright, ma'am?” a voice asked. It was Dr. Williams, an older gentleman who'd been in Rhodes for years.

“I-I think I have a fever,” you whispered, fanning yourself. “Been throwing up everywhere.”

He quickly escorted you to a room in the back, and you collapsed into the chair. 

Dr. Williams examined you, looking inside your mouth and pressing various points on your body.

“Any symptoms besides vomiting?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Don't believe so.”

“When did they start?”

“I'd say…maybe two weeks ago.”

He hummed and thought for a bit while examining you. “Is there a chance you could be with child?”

You started, then stopped, then froze.

No…

“Err,” you stuttered.

He waited for your answer.

“I-I-...well, I suppose it ain't impossible,” you admitted fearfully.

Dr. Williams nodded. “Unless you have some strange fever, it is my opinion that you're suffering from morning sickness.”

Your heart dropped to your feet and started beating like a jackrabbit's. No. No. Lord, please.

“That can't be true,” you said desperately. “It-It- was so long ago…I don't…”

“It takes a bit for symptoms to present,” the doctor explained.

“B-But I can't, I can't be,” you cried, panicking. “You don't understand, my life is over if I'm with child. Over!” You stood up and started pacing around.

“Admittedly it’s still too early to tell for certain,” Dr. Williams allowed. “However, I have seen this many times before. There are options–”

“No! There are no options!” you snapped. “I am the daughter of an oil baron and a society lady! J-just imagining the shame, the disgrace–...my mother will kill me. And if she doesn't, I'll be sent away to the corners of the earth.” 

You burst into tears at this declaration, falling to your knees and covering your face in shame. Dr. Williams hung back, perhaps sensing that you needed a minute.

After you collected yourself and stood up, you said in a quiet, cold voice: “There is no way I am pregnant. I thank you for your expertise, Dr. Williams, but in this case you are incorrect. I simply have a fever. Good day.”

You swept out of the building with your head held high, collecting your maid and getting back on the carriage. 

The two of you had barely left the town borders before you broke down and started crying again. Pregnant? A child? You? It could not be true. It could not. 

And…and definitely not by Arthur, of all people. He was like a firecracker, burning hot and dangerous, the exact opposite of a…father.

Even that word burned acrid on your tongue.

“Do you need somethin’, miss?” Elisabeth asked tentatively.

You sighed, wiped your face, and shook your head sadly. “No…no thank you. I'm alright.”

The ride back home was silent save for your sniffles and forlorn sighs. You refused to accept this possibility.

You felt you would rather be tarred and feathered than even think about telling your mother about your condition. Your outburst at Dr. Williams had barely covered it; your parents were continually telling you to act perfectly, to never step out of line. Even though they were far from perfect.

Your mother was the biggest hypocrite you knew. She thought you didn't see her inviting the help in for "tea". Well, you did, not that you cared much. It was just sickening that she set expectations for you that she herself had never reached.

She'd threatened you with the nunnery before, after catching you with one of the stable boys. Said that “wicked girls were destined for the deepest pits of hell.” Hmph. She was definitely an expert on the subject.

As for your father, well, he wasn't much better. Though he didn't verbally abuse you like your mother, he viewed you more like a liability among his property. You were certain he would marry you off if it would benefit his emerging empire. He would see this…predicament as something that could damage his reputation. If your mother chose to send you away, you doubted he would make much of a fuss.

Thankfully, the churning in your stomach faded on the way home, and only your mind remained in shambles. 

You tried to avoid your mother when you arrived at the manor, but of course she was in the front room, waiting for you.

“What did the doctor say?” she inquired as you put down your things.

“Just a mild fever,” you replied shortly, then power walked to your room. But she followed.

“Are you sure? Do you have a temperature? Did he give you any medicine?” she pressed, following your impatient footsteps right up to your bedroom door.

“Mother, I'll be fine. It's not serious,” you said angrily, then closed the door behind you firmly.

You waited until her heels clicked away down the wooden stairs, then collapsed on your bed and sobbed some more.

My life might be over.

A month and a half later.

Your life was over.

Completely and utterly.

The nausea had not stopped, and in fact it got worse the week after you went to the doctor. That had been the peak of pain, but it still remained for another two weeks afterwards, lurking like some shadowy beast.

Your dresses, tailored exactly to your measurements, had become just a little bit tighter. At first you had brushed it off as an indulgent diet, or just stress weight, but even your mother had commented on how your dress was pulled tight over your torso.

After that, you took care to hide your body under the heaviest dresses you could manage. But it was summer by now, and staying out of sight was a tall order.

Your mother repeatedly asked you to go to the doctor again, and perhaps seek out a second opinion, and you refused, insisting that it was just a fever. But you could tell she wasn’t believing you. She gave you strange looks when you said you felt nauseous yet again.

It was a stormy day in June when you finally had the courage to take off your clothes and examine your body in the floor-length, gilded mirror in your boudoir.

A mistake.

Your blood turned to ice as you saw the unmistakable bump that was forming.

Your breathing accelerated along with your mind, thoughts racing and jumbling and colliding, coming to one stunning, awful conclusion:

I’m pregnant.

You were pregnant. With child. An expectant mother.

What a joke.

You? A mother? What a ridiculously absurd notion. You would sooner be a clown in a traveling circus.

And…that man was the father. The man that haunted your thoughts and your dreams, the man whose scent still clung ever so faintly to one of your riding dresses. The man whose mere name sent shivers down your spine.

Arthur Morgan.

-

You put your clothes back on, then left the room, intending to get a snack, but before even making it to the stairs your mother pounced on you.

“Alright, I simply must insist that you tell me what is really going on,” she declared. “No fever lasts this long, and you have no temperature at all.”

You tried to dodge her, but she blocked your path, clearly dead set on getting an answer from you.

“It’s nothing, Mother, I told you before,” you said, irritated. It absolutely was not nothing, but you needed time to plan your strategy. 

“If it’s nothing, why have you been nauseous for the past…” She paused, then narrowed her eyebrows. 

Before you could step back, she poked your stomach with one finger. You of course involuntarily jumped back.

“What- What are you doing?” you gasped, nervous.

“Let me see your stomach.”

“What?”

She pushed you towards your room. “I said, let me see your stomach, girl. Lift up your skirts.”

You scoffed, heart pounding like a drum. “Why would I do that?”

You were forced back into your bedroom, and your mother closed and locked the door behind her. “I just want to look at it.”

This was quite a pickle.

“I- I really don’t think that’s necessary, Mother-”

She grabbed at your skirts, impatient. You jumped back. “Stop it! Fine, I will.”

She was going to find out eventually.

Your mother crossed her arms and waited with anticipation as you slowly lifted your skirt. The blood was rushing in your ears and you prayed to God that you would survive the next five minutes.

Eventually your skirt revealed the still developing but definitely noticeable bump you had.

The room was dead silent. Your mother stared at your belly in shock, lips slightly parted. 

Then her mouth closed and formed a hard scowl. “Would you care to explain the meaning of this?”

You blinked several times, trying to find your voice, but it was lost and long gone.

“Are you-” She swallowed hard. “Are you…with child?”

She stared at you. Her glare kept you still and pinned you down like a bug on display.

You eventually nodded, wordless and terrified.

“And who is the father, pray tell?”

You just stared at the ground.

“Answer me, girl,” she said sharply.

There was no way you were going to tell her that. It would genuinely be better for her to assume you were so loose you couldn’t even pinpoint the father.

Your mother pinched her nose, and sighed, shaking her head. “We’re going to have a little talk with your father when he comes home. Remain in your room; I have no desire to see you anymore.” With those pleasant parting words, she stomped out, slamming the door behind you.

Once her footsteps faded away, you sat on your bed, numbly thinking of what to do. 

Your father was sure to agree with any punishment your mother dreamed up. He was more like a manager than a father, and he had no qualms about letting a bad employee go.

Or…or maybe he wouldn’t? Perhaps his indifference would work in your favor, and he would tell your mother not to bother? Maybe he’d even pay someone to take care of it.

These were all hypotheticals. There was no telling what would really happen until it actually occurred.

Your father was due home soon. It was just your luck that he was taking a half-day in the office.

Ugh.

End of Part 2.

[genderqueerdykes]

(tw: vent, relationship abuse, transphobia)

from 2020-2023, i was in a toxic relationship with a terf. she identified as a (still truscum-y) trans guy when we first got together, but about halfway through she detransitioned and pressured me to detransition as well. i identified as nonbinary at the time and i was scared of not listening to her, so i detransitioned because i thought i was being misogynistic if i didn’t. things just got worse, her transphobia got more radical, and we grew further apart, especially when i started questioning my identity again.

it’s been over a year since we broke up. i’ve started my transition as a trans man, i have her blocked on everything, but i still keep thinking about all the ways she hurt me. it feels like she’s winning. most sources i find on toxic relationships are really heteronormative and rely heavily on gender binaries, so they’ve been no help. do you have any advice on queer toxic relationships and/or unlearning internalized transphobia? thanks so much, no pressure to answer this if you don’t have the spoons

that's terrible, i'm so sorry you went through that. that's a long time to have to deal with someone pressuring you to change how you refer to yourself and how you see yourself. it's okay if someone needs to detransition but they should never force anyone else to just because transitioning like that was wrong for them. i'm so sorry she acted like she knew what was best for you. it's painful to watch someone fall down that rabbit hole and never come back. you want them to be kinder and to love themselves and everyone else, but it's just not the case

whenever people try to tell me that i "don't understand rad feminism", i point to experiences like yours. rad fems tell people that it's literally somehow "misogynistic" for trans men and mascs to transition. they tell people that that trans men and mascs are a danger to women. they tell people that trans men and mascs are confused and don't know any better. they tell trans men and mascs how to think, and they're doing it to everyone else, too. there's never a good reason to call someone misogynistic for transitioning

i would say maybe try to touch base with communities for transmasculine people and trans men. even if you meet a few people you like in the tags here, it's worth it. remind yourself that you weren't wrong, that person just thought she knew what was right for you. she saw something she hated in herself. it has nothing to do with how you should feel about yourself. you'll run into bumps and snags with how you feel about gender, especially your own. it's not a bad sign, it just takes time to get over the shitty things you were taught.

you can't dismantle it all at once, to take time, pace yourself. you were literally being groomed to hate yourself and other people. you need a moment before you can become proud of who you are. someone whittled you down until you were nearly nothing. that's not easy to move on from in a quick fashion. manhood is not evil. manhood is not what's hurting people. men are diverse. men are not a monolith. making blanket statements about men is profiling

i hope that helps some what, good luck, stay safe. i appreciate you for reaching out. it's not easy to deal with or move on from these kinds of things, but be as kind to yourself as you can. there's nothing wrong with transmanhood

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Wip Wednesday

Thanks for tagging me, Odi ♥️ @joelmillerisapunk and Mina @evolnoomym 🥰

Sooo I’m still writing the Frankie fic, hopefully I’m going to finish it tonight so it will coming soon.

Here’s a little snippet in the meantime, Frankie and reader have to go to Frankie's mother's house for dinner 👀 Contrary to what it might seem, there will be a lot of smut heheheh

“Are you ready, honey?” Frankie's voice is muffled by the bathroom door, you're finishing putting on your lipstick. “Almost, you just need to help me with something.” Frankie opens the door and peeps into the bathroom “with what?” He stops behind you, admiring you in the mirror as you stand there with your lips parted, leaning slightly over the sink, your legs slender from your heels, you wear the dress he bought you, unzipped at the back. “Jesus, you’re a vision” he breathes “Maybe we should skip dinner at my mom’s” he says, approaching you and settling his big hands firmly on your hips. “Come on, Frankie, be serious,” you giggle. “I'm dead serious” he replies in a rough, deep voice ”look in the mirror. Look at how sexy you are.” leaning over you to leave a trail of kisses down the exposed skin on your back. His soft lips send shivers down your spine and you are almost on the verge of giving in. You set your lipstick down on the sink countertop and turn to look at him pouting, "You can't do this to me now, you know we can't dodge it.” “Well, it might help you relax though,” he continues to flirt, his lips curved into a little smile. “Stop it, babe” you say reluctantly. You’d fell for it any other day but not now that you’re trying to figure out how to impress someone you don’t even know. Frankie told you something about his mom, how protective she is and overall pretty conservative, you’re the exact opposite. You don’t know why he seems so positive about you meeting her, you’re pretty sure she will hate you. You sigh urging him “come on, help me with the zipper” Frankie leaves a light kiss on your lips "okay, I'll behave” he sighs “turn around" You turn and he pulls up his zipper looking at you in the mirror “anyway, I wasn’t lying, you look really beautiful” “Thank you, baby” you smile softly

NPT (and sorry if you've been tagged already): @milla-frenchy , @probablyreadinsmut , @arcanefox207 , @almostempty , @syd-djarin , @cas-readsandwrites , @baronessvonglitter @thundermartini and whoever wants to do this.🙌🏻

[cloudycleric]

i recently just posted that i was scrolling my dash when i happened upon my least favorite byler au:

okay so im gonna talk about it more. & this is in no way trying to be mean. this is just me kinda venting about how i'm upset with myself because the au in question is not problematic.

okay so the au i am talking about is any byler cannibalism au. i am a HUGE fan of horror films, very very big fan, but for some reason i cannot do cannibalism whatsoever (at least right now). maybe a year or two ago i stumbled upon a very graphic byler cannibalism fic & decided to give it a try just to see (at this point in time i wasn't fully aware of my deep deep fear). i was on vacation at my sibling's house too. anyway, i made it about like 5 paragraphs before i had to go into my room & cry.

(note that immediately after this i did block both the cannibal & cannibalism tags on tumblr, but i guess stuff slips through or maybe i'm blocking the wrong tags.)

& the worst part is, I WANT TO BE OKAY WITH IT. i so desperately want to not have the biggest ick for cannibalism media because it is a large part of horror that i have to block myself off from. but i seriously cannot do it. i can do literally everything else under the bridge. i am perfectly fine with intense gore in movies or books but for some reason, when it's cannibalism i cannot do it what so ever & it just gives me like a terrible, terrible anxious feeling.

like i love byler scream/slasher au where the two can be violent, but when it's cannibalism it just feels different to me. i don't know. i wish i could appreciate it & i wish i was not a snowflake about it but here i am. anyway sometimes i hate fears & phobias & wish i was normal or didn't get weird icks from things since cannibalism is such an interesting sorry okay i couldn't finish that sentence because i didn't feel it in my soul. it just icks me. i wish it didn't. because i love darker/horror movie type byler aus but i just can't do it. & now i must take a shower & cry

BTW this is in no means me trying to target someone or like vaguely call someone out. post whatever byler cannibal au stuff you want!! i just wanted to share my personal feelings, in no way am i trying to invalidate your interests. this is me being upset with myself, not upset with other people.

[getsuuna]

ok so here's my complaint of the day!

I wrote this during the moment I felt like complaining and I was sleepy so it MIGHT be a little dramatic 😇

every time I'm devouring a SaneGiyuu fic because I like its plot for a while, here goes a smut scene that never fails to make me sigh and mayhaps roll my eyes

most of the times I know I'll get icked but decide to read because "what if it's not that bad",, then it's almost always the same shit over and over: Sanemi topping, bonus points if there's even just slight roughness (yikes😬...), Giyuu being loud and being described in degrading terms [and basically none of this was told beforehand in tags nor notes, almost as if it was the "normal" perception of SaneGiyuu for most people...??? shut UP??😃]

respectfully, it's ass.

I'm tired, these tropes are overused and fucking inaccurate dare I say, unless there's a reason in the fanfic's AU specifically but I still find it to be too common and weird. if you want a somewhat accurate SaneGiyuu pay gorn (/hj /ref) it must be them switching AND being romantic. where the FUCK is the romance,, the last one I've read now wasn't that bad because it still mentioned adoration, kisses and love overall, but there's almost always something that icks me even just in the few fics I've read so far, and it makes my reading experience sm slower and uncomfortable afterwards even if I initially loved the fic

now, as I've stated multiple times, I hate the "rough daddy dom Sanemi" and "submissive twink Giyuu" headcanons with every single inch of my entire being in&out including my whole soul /drm,,, and not just in sex scenes but in their overall dynamic, it's so enraging I don't care if someone disagrees I'd just stare and judge??😭😭😭my main purpose when I complain abt this stuff is to look for other people with my same mindset (thank GOD I saw lots of them so far though)

the disrespect, and the fetishization of queer couples in which one "has to look/act more like the opposite gender" and inevitably the one who has more apparent feminine traits has to be the sub, bc they associate femininity with submissiveness. heteronormativity and borderline patriarchy-inducted stereotypes?? woah./neg

let Sanemi receive, it won't make him any less of a man nor threaten his masculinity I promise🥺 same goes for Giyuu if he was actually written like the manly strong man and SOLDIER he fucking is? I still wouldn't really really prefer it but I would respect the preference in that case.. heated arguments about who tops or bottoms are inherently fetishizing and stupid, however if I see a (weird) pattern I'm gonna hate it sorry not sorry😭🙏🏻

also please if someone can recommend SaneGiyuu fics with NO smut or actually well written sex scenes with them preferably switching (it's the only actual realistic trope and I stand by this fact) I'll be thankful, and I'm taking the occasion to also recommend "You And Me, Alone Together" by Katz3 (yes there's also occasional sex scenes and yes they're perfect in every possible way, the whole fic is!! I have yet to find a better fic and I know I won't, despite it being underrated); or maybe if you have fic recs in which Giyuu exclusively tops if there's NSFW scenes, out of nothing but pure spite, I would be thankful as well🥰

one last thing bc I usually get heavily misinterpreted whenever I complain abt anything: I'm NOT saying "GiyuSane is better" (even if that's what *I* personally think, due to how I interpret their writing and how I headcanon their relationship dynamic which has nothing much different from most, I just don't twinkify/overly-feminize/infantilize Giyuu nor I over-sexualize/booktok-fy Sanemi), I'm just saying it's more realistic if they switched: it's more accurate, more inclusive, less mischaracterizing, less stereotyped and therefore less heteronormative and less fetishizing...

and about the degrading and roughness and all that I mentioned, I just despise it. for every ship and every trope, whether m/f, f/f or m/m. it takes romance away imo and I won't be sugarcoating it with "oh but it's consensual so it's fine" nor negotiating it in order not to piss off the people who like this kind of content; I'm sorry, keep your preferences, but I won't be shutting the fuck up if I have to read it every goddamn time I naively think there's normal and loving sex scenes. put tags to warn readers who don't wanna read that shit so they can skip it if they still gave the fic a shot, please🙏🏻

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[fridgrave2-0]

hehe ghost-turbo haunting felix au

turbo is connected to the last piece of his code in the whole arcade - a trophy he gifted to felix in mid 80s as a symbol of him genuinely caring about their relationships on par with being the best racer. felix also gave him one of his medals and both kept their gifts next to other rewards, but when roadblasters and turbotime were unplugged, the medal was gone with everything else

now, after burning in cola-lava turbo is basically dead, but scraps of his code still were intertwined with the trophy (after all, it was his first winner's cup, but felix never knew about it), giving turbo an opportunity to exist as a shadow incapable of interacting with anything and anyone besides felix, who kept the trophy even after the roadblasters incident

also I went crazy in tags, feel free to check them out

[humbuns]

birds of the same feather?

[trixxedheart]

It is amazing how the "people that love and uplift transwomen" website will instantly fucking maul a transwoman if she even remotely insinuate that using radfem rhetoric harms trans people

[rin-solo]

*Different Beast motif plays*

Odysseus: *raises trident*

Odysseus, in the danger voice™: You're going to be my b*tch now, Poseidon.

Poseidon:

Poseidon: ... Alright, please...!

... 600 Strike in a nutshell, right?

[snarkspawn]

some KoD/Spirealm sketches

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah