#fem tv podcast

[pendantaudio]

Tilly's Trans Tuesdays episode 83: Grab your Tillyvision goggles, it's time for more "I Saw the TV Glow" trans allegory goodness! This week we talk losing access to our femininity, seeking out community, and the horrible things society tells us about ourselves. Lilah Sturges returns to discuss Hamlet and Chekhov's Egg!

Hosted by Tilly Bridges and Susan Bridges. Sound mixing by Jillian Morgan. Available on Apple Podcasts, iHeartRadio, Amazon Music, Samsung Podcasts, and more!

[drgnflyteabox]

something to remember you by

pairing: soap x fem reader summary: your boyfriend wants some memorabilia of you to take on his deployments. only, he wants his superior officer to take the photos. w.c: 3.7k tags/warnings: dubcon, cucking, mild degradation, oral (m + f, rough), hair pulling, un-negotiated kink, dom!soap, clothed man naked reader, teasing scent kink (m + f), one (1) pussy slap, crying, squirting, unprotected sex, some anxiety, reassurance mid-fuck, overstimulation, some aftercare, abrupt but open ending, reader has some internal shame around sex/kink, reader doesn't rlly like her bf

At first, it’s nothing. Dirty talk, suggestive texts, passing comments while he’s on his second deployment with a hand around his cock and you pretending to be into it.

"Think about it, babe," he’s panting, but it’s less sexy when you can tell he’s deepening his voice on purpose like Christian Bale Batman. "Don’t you wanna give me something to remember you by? While I’m out here fighting for you?"

Corny. So fucking corny. Your feet are kicked up on your coffee table, fuzzy-socked, face schlopped with a cooling gel mask. Quarter past 8 o’clock, and he’s trying to sell you on letting one of his army buddies fuck you and take pictures of you. The absurdity makes you almost laugh.

"…babe?" Oh, shit.

"Yeah honey, I’m here." You’d kind of feel bad, if it weren’t for the ick factor. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, he was fine, it was just that since he’d joined the army he’d inched closer and closer to picking up a mic and dictating which body counts were okay to women over podcasts. That, and he’s gotten hornier. Kinkier.

Which is fine, really. Only you don't consider yourself adventurous. Sex is like a chore, something to put you to sleep, to relax the muscles. Relationships are quid pro quo - I suck your dick, you make my parents think I’m succeeding in life, deal?

Not to mention, you've never even considered stepping outside of the idea that sex is between committed couples only, sequestered away and hidden in the closet like old clothes.

"So, are you picturing it?" Schlap schlap schlap. He must’ve added lotion. "You can say no obviously, ughnnn, but I know this guy really well. I'd, ahhh fuck, sit in the other room."

"Thanks for being so considerate," you sound dry, but you’re honestly intrigued. Life has been monotonous since graduation, the transition from study to office… rough.

You aren’t adventurous. But you’re so fucking bored.

"Can I see him first?" On the TV in front of you, muted, Matthew Macfayden confesses his love tearfully in the rain. You want to be bewitched, body and soul. To feel something.

"So you’ll do it? Oh, fuck-" Not what I said, you think. His voice goes high, reedy, trembling with his orgasm. "See how fucking hot this makes me? I’ll send a pic, give me a sec."

It’s a group photo. He’s dressed in his uniform, head shaved, standing next to a group of a dozen or so men. Outlined, at the far corner with a group of guys big enough to dwarf a good third of the rest, is a man with building biceps and a smarmy grin and a confident, wide-legged pose. Hips jutted out. Fuck, he’s hot. You can see his bulge through his pants, through the picture, under a heavy tac vest.

"Get in, get in!" the apartment is clean for once. At least, clean without you getting sick of his clutter and playing maid. Did he do it himself to impress his friend? That makes you snort, but he doesn’t catch it, too preoccupied with his phone.

"Um, woah-" you start, taken aback. It looks like a porn set. There’s a plastic sheet on the ground in front of the couch. "I thought this was supposed to be casual?"

"It is, babe," he’s brushing you off, same as he did the few days leading up to this. You’d gone through some minor confidence and judgment crises, anxiety building like a balloon about to pop. All of which he’d brushed off.

It’s all fun and games, babe. Plus he’s done this before, he’s like a pro, showed me some videos - that was something you hadn't agreed to, just some pictures for him to take on deployments.

Still, trepidation makes you sweat, makes your thighs stick to the brown leather couch when you sit and try to sip water. Your socks crinkle the sheet.

You don’t turn when he arrives, still too nervous, knees stuck together and hands slipping on the glass from condensation when they start talking behind you. There’s too many what ifs - all reasons you’d used to avoid hookups in college, all reasons you wanted to break through your shell now.

Plus, you’re sick of hearing "did you finish?"

"This must be her," says an accented voice, gruff and maybe amused, "ye feelin' shy?"

No. You’re just nervous. Exposed. One of the only conditions you'd pushed was no cuck chair, but now you weren't sure how to feel to be left alone with him soon. This man is so big, so imposing.

"Hi," you say smartly. He looks just like his photo, only bigger. Bulging muscles and the same wide stance when he comes to stand in front of you. It’s only because you can’t stand sitting face-to-face with his crotch that you stand and hold your hand out to shake.

"And polite!" Loud. He introduces himself as Johnny, which makes your boyfriend's eyebrows raise. "So cute." he takes the liberty of bypassing your hand and grabbing your waist.

Oh fuck, he runs hot. His hands burn, even through your shirt. You feel self-conscious, plain, looking up at his probing blue eyes. They’re so intense, captivating, distracting you from the feeling of him getting closer and closer, till your tits are pressed to his.

"Hey-"

The moment breaks. Your boyfriend is looking at you both, unreadable expression on his face. Is he regretting this? Feeling emasculated, maybe? Hard to feel much sympathy when you’re the one about to get fucked.

And it was his idea.

"I’m gonna go to the bedroom," his eyes squint, flitting between the both of you before he scurries away, pants tented.

"Now that that's outta the way," Johnny grunts. "C'mere." And sits down with a grunt, pulling you to him.

You try to pivot, to sit next to him, but he's strong and coordinated so you wind up in his lap, back touching the arm of the couch and your legs slung over his, bum on one thigh.

"That's more like it, no?" there's that wolfish grin again, so close. One hand rests on your knee, possessively, while the other wraps around your shoulders and plays with your shirt. "Why don't we introduce ourselves?"

The hand on your knee moves to your face, gripping your cheeks in a grip hard enough to push your lips out into an embarrassing pout. You struggle a little, pulling at his wrist, but he doesn't budge.

He pulls his phone out, aiming the camera at your face, recording a video through a text-app. You can that it's a groupchat, assured by your boyfriend before that it was totally private, babe. This is jut between us.

"Now say hello," he puts his stubbly cheek next to yours, rubbing like a cat. "And introduce yourself."

"H'llo," you struggle through it, muffled by his grip. Your name is almost unintelligible, and your jaw starts to ache a little.

"Say, can I please suck your cock, sir?"

Your stomach tightens, right down to your pussy, which gushes a little into your panties.

"Cn'I please suck your cock, sir?" he's so fucking forward, just jumping in headfirst. The loss of control, your being told what to do, makes your clit jump. Sex has never been like this - you've never been so acquiescing.

"Of course you can, bonnie!" you're almost tossed to the floor, no gentleness as he pulls you toward him by the hair so quickly it almost makes you dizzy. He scoots to the edge of the couch, leaning back against it, and uses that strong arm to rub your face on his bulge. "Get me hard."

He puts his phone on the arm of the couch.

You flounder, hands finding his knees and trying to pull back. He doesn't let you.

"Use your mouth, kiss me," his hand finds a firmer hold on your hair as you start mouthing against him, tasting denim, smelling his musk, letting it get to your head and make you dizzy. "That's right, kitten."

His cock starts to chub under his clothes, and you almost wish you could feel it in your mouth. Oral isn't your favourite, but the way your pussy clenches around nothing and drips into your panties is making you think maybe you were wrong about yourself.

"Up, up," your face is rubbed a little raw by the time you sit up, looking at him. Waiting for instruction. "Everything off, except your panties."

You obey, stripping your shirt and bra and then your shorts. Your nipples tighten in the cool air of the apartment, goosebumps dancing along your arms and your belly. Self-consciousness almost has you reaching to cover yourself, until Johnny grabs you by the shoulders and twists you just enough that you're back to facing his phone.

"Look at these," he grunts in your ear, fingers finding your nipples. Pulling them, pinching them. It's not for you, it's for the camera. You feel like an object, an accessory, secondary to getting the shot of the rough pads of his fingers teasing you into whimpers.

You've never been more turned on.

"Nice, eh?" he pulls them up and out, which hurts, but draws a line of pure electricity from your nipples to your clit. "Whatd'ye think, L.T?" the name doesn't register. Army stuff, you assume.

You're turned back around sharply again to face his actual cock. He's pulled it from his fly, thick and leaking, while you were getting undressed. It's unfair, really, nice and long and curved.

"Ask me again," a statement. A command, phone discarded.

"Please can I suck your cock, sir?" the words make your cheeks burn, your body quiver, your clit jump.

"Ye can," laughter this time, worsening your embarrassment. His hand finds your hair again, pulling you down when you're too slow to touch your lips to the head of his dick. "I'm gonnae fuck your face, alright?"

Without waiting, he lifts his hips up and thrust into your mouth. It's not as deep as it can go, but you almost gag, unprepared. The next thrust is deeper, quicker. He's letting you build up to it, letting your hands rest on his knees for balance.

Your nose touches his pubic hair, inhaling the scent of him. Any attempt at hollowing your cheeks, sucking, licking, is futile. He's so quick that the best you can do is hang on for the ride, keeping your teeth in check.

Drool builds and spills past your lips, making wet sounds compete with his frankly pornographic moaning. He's a man possessed, using you while you squeeze your eyes against overwhelmed tears.

Finally he yanks you off of him by the hair, holding you up while you splutter from the unexpected change. Your hands go to your face, trying to wipe.

"None o'that, now," he bats them away, giving you a shake when you keep trying. "Leave it." like you're a bad dog.

Strings of spit connect your swollen lips to his cock, thin and gooey, that fall to your bare chest when he sits up.

You're turned, stood up and then guided to the couch to sit. Johnny slaps your thighs to get you to open them, lifting your feet for you so that your heels rest on the edge of the couch cushions.

"Awe, look how wet she is," he holds your legs, exposing your wet panties to him and to his phone, where he takes a few pictures. Again, you wonder about the appeal of this for your boyfriend. It's hot for you. Degrading, but hot. Or maybe more hot because of the degradation.

"Oh god," you say out of shock. You've never been so fucking wet in your life, and god forbid he sees how swollen with arousal you are underneath.

"Naw, just me," Johnny says, rubbing his knuckles over your pussy through the fabric. "She all wet and frustrated?"

You don't answer, hands keeping you sat up, chest heaving. You're still a little dizzy.

Johnny licks over your panties, mouthing over them not unlike what you did for him only a few minutes before. It's nothing, really, but you're so worked up that it startles a long, drawn-out moan from you.

He continues like this, never actually making contact with where you need it, with your skin. Every one in a while he turns his head to the side and grins, taking a picture or a videoclip while you tip your head back and resist begging him to just get on with it.

His nose presses on your mound, where he drags it down to your hole and sniffs.

That's what breaks your resolve.

"Please," you whine. Your voice is rough from taking his cock in your throat.

"Please what?" he opens his mouth and puts his teeth on you, not biting, just letting you feel them. Gnawing gently.

"Please do it," you look down at him, and even though he's on his knees you know you aren't the one in control. "Please lick my cunt."

A laugh, mean and condescending. Your eyes close in shame, pussy burning for attention.

"This cunt right here?" he pulls the gusset aside, whistling. "This desperate little cunt?"

"Yes, please," you curl your toes into the couch.

Something shifts in his eyes, some unrecognizable flash. It feels like danger, like you're in over your head. Johnny takes two fingers and rubs them over your clit, slowly at first, and then quickly when he feels how slippery you are.

Somewhere, a volcano erupts and it isn't comparable to the heat or the feeling of your clit finally getting attention. It zings through you, making you squeeze your muscles, taught and trembling.

The pads of his fingers are a rough sensation on your swollen skin, the worlds best vibrator, ribbed for your pleasure. All he does is rub, up and down over your clit, quickly and until your face starts to scrunch together in orgasm, trembling hard.

Then he pulls back and slaps you so hard on your pussy you scream.

You almost come from it, shocked, legs kicking out, skin burning and clit pulsing with desperation, back bowing. You keep making sound after, a long and drawn out aaaaaahhhhh while he grins like the cat that got the cream. Takes another picture, the click of the camera loud in the face of your disappointment.

The intensity of it almost brings you to tears, looking at him with betrayal and vulnerability in your face. You feel weak all of a sudden, cored, devoured, pulled apart as soft as slow cooked meat.

Your panties fall back over your skin, a minor comfort against the sting.

"Poor girl," Johnny says with false sympathy. "Let me make it up to ye."

Then you're up again, pulled and pressed against Johnny's chest until he pulls your underwear down and rearranges you to sit on his lap over his spread legs, yours dangling on either side.

"Gonna bounce ye on my cock, alright?" you nod. "Sit on it."

You lift your hips, using his knees for balance, and he guides the head of his cock to your hole. Stops you from sitting back right away with a hand on your hip, squeezing the soft flesh there, and holding you there.

"They're kissing," he laughs. You feel it, your cunt mouthing at him like a conscious being, separate from you. "Ye think they want tae meet each other?"

"Can I?" you don't fight to keep the whine out of your voice. You want to come, you want this aching and this emptiness to end.

"Can ye what?"

"Sit on your cock, please."

"Well, since ye asked so nicely," and then he notches himself properly again, and forces you down with two hands on your waist. You shout, arching, head thrown back. "Bounce on it now, kitten. Show me how badly ye want to come."

And oh god, you do. You rock forward, shaking at the feeling of him, no technique to guide you just pure intuition, brain and cunt and body as one. Distantly, the sound of the camera registers, but it only makes you move faster.

He spreads your cheeks, exposing where you're connected, putting the camera close to the wet clench of your cunt around his cock and - oh, he's filming it. There's no click, just the wet sounds of you riding him.

"Thas'right," he murmurs lowly, maybe for show. "You wanna come?"

"Yes!" you lean back, then, sweat slicked back sticking to his shirt, forgetting where you are and why you're here. Everything narrows down to your pussy, but you feel compelled to keep your hands off your clit even though you know it would make you come quickly.

You want to listen to him, to wait for permission. The thought is searing heat through your core.

Fingers find your face, slipping into your mouth. Your lips wrap around them, sucking like you would've his cock.

His other hand lifts his phone in front of you both, snapping shots of your unfocused eyes, your tits pushed into the air, his smarmy expression. He hooks his fingers then into your cheek, pulling back like a fishhook.

"Good girl," his lips against your ear, stubble scratching the hot skin of your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you for real now, alright?"

You nod, desperately. He pushes you up and off of him, face down in the cushion. He's still clothed, for gods sake, jeans rubbing against the backs of your thighs when he drags your ass back toward him.

The mushroom head of his cock finds your cunt again, pushing in, driving you nuts. You're moaning helplessly, letting him take your boneless arms to hold them behind you.

He fucks you like a man possessed, in a short strokes, barely leaving the hot clutch of your pussy. The sounds, if they were bad before, are worse now, wet and humiliating.

Every thrust feels like he's slowly inflating a balloon inside you, like something pulling taut, like pressure about to burst.

"Fuck, wait!" you shout and turn your head. The pressure is insane, mixed up with a building orgasm, twined together. He hasn't even touched your clit, and yet you're on the precipice.

Johnny leans down, lips on your ear. He slows, but doesn't stop.

"What is it, bonnie?"

"I have to pee," you'd have mumbled it before, but the feeling is so strong you can't help but whimper and cry. "Please let me up."

"Ye aren't gonna pee," he laughs. "Trust me, just trust me." Then keeps pistoning into you.

You feel like jello, like mush, the only solid part of you is about to burst and somehow it makes you feel real anxiety, dampening your enjoyment.

"Johnny-" you whimper, emotion clogging your voice. You feel vulnerable, held down and bared.

In need of reassurance.

"You're alright," he leans back down and nuzzles your wet cheek. "Ye can let go, kitten, I've got ye."

You gasp, pulsing hard around him, the feeling back again, before you gush around his cock, a spray so intense you cry as it forces him out of you.

"Good. Fucking. Girl!" he slaps your ass once, twice, on both cheeks. Rubs your flank like a horse and then plunges back into you when you finish dripping down your legs.

This is purely selfish, him fucking you hard now, jackrabbiting his hips into yours. You hear the phone again, just barely, as your ears ring.

You're raw from coming without any touch to your clit, a weird limbo between being on-edge and oversensitive.

"Gonna give me another," he's growling now, getting impossibly faster. You actually really cry when he reaches around to twist your clit, thrashing under him, not sure if you want to leap off the couch or crawl right back into him. "Come for me!" he shouts, pulling up the hood of your clit to really get at you, rubbing rough circles around your beleaguered little nub.

The second orgasm melts your brain out of your ears, so long and drawn out that you're still shivering with the aftershocks as he pulls out of you and paints your back with his release.

You pant, arm one arm dangling over the edge of the couch while you the other covers your eyes.

Johnny rubs a hand on your thigh, light and gentle, patting your bum as he stands. You move your arm just enough to squint at him.

His jeans are soaked.

You laugh, uninhibited, delirious. He laughs with you.

"All you, darlin'!" he takes another shot of you, pulls your legs apart and takes a picture of your wet, sore hole.

"Is she good?" ah, your boyfriend. He has his own wet spot on the front of his pants.

"She's good," Johnny confirms. "Ye need to take care of her now, right?"

Something in his voice changes. A different kind of authority to the one he used on you, one reserved for soldiers. For men beneath him. At that thought, your pussy makes a valiant effort to clench.

"Yeah, yeah," you hear. Your boyfriend has his phone out, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "These are great man, thanks."

You start to sit up, still shaking, but not wanting to have him see you that way.

"Man, you weren't kidding!" he goes on. Johnny frowns and steps forward to clap him hard on the back and grab his nape.

"Run a bath, do it now. Ye got granola bars?"

"Uh, yeah. Hold on."

You're touched by his concern, and wind up soaking in warm bubbles after he leaves. You wonder about the photos, about what you look like. If your boyfriend is satisfied, if Johnny is.

If you were good.

Feels like you were, but somethings changed. Johnny found a soft spot knife-deep inside you and dug himself in, made you fly and made sure you were brought back to earth after, tenderized and then wrapped in comfort.

Beneath the water, you touch your pussy. Not to masturbate, just to feel the soft sore flesh, to remember the feeling of fullness.

Maybe, after his deployment, your boyfriend will want more pictures.

Fresh material.

Beneath the water, your finger curls into yourself and you sigh, satisfied.

[feralforfrank]

simon riley x fem!reader

simon gets hit by an umbrella like three times, sorry for not knowing proper british and scottish slang, i'm greek and trying my best 👍🏻 implied age gap (reader is in uni)

holidays in Edinburgh, part 1/?

the 141 is home for the holidays. home being all over the uk, with gaz and price spending their time somwhere in the country with their partners and simon accompanying johnny and his partner in Edinburgh. johnny insisted he come along, Edinburgh is full of bonnie birds, you never know, you might meet your match, lt.

you're miserable. spending yet another holiday in a foreign country, isolated in your flat with only your cat, warm tea, and a book to pass the time. you couldn't go back home due to finals starting soon, and your parents decided to spend Christmas in warm weather down under (Australia).

it's not half as bad, you try to convince yourself. your flat is quiet, as are the neighboring ones and the building in general. your bedroom window overlooks a busy street, and you envy those who flood them with shopping bags and smiles. you haven't made that many friends, and the ones you have are already visiting their hometowns. the upside is that you're in a warm, comfortable space while others are freezing their pinkies off.

even johnny is gone. the loud scot from next door, a guy you had disliked at first without having officially met him - thin walls was the only bad thing this building has, and you were forced to listen to him do everything, from weight lifting, to watching tv, to having sex - but when you bumped into each other your opinion changed drastically. a gentleman, funny and light-hearted. he hadn't taken to heart your complaints about the noise, only promising to take it down a notch.

without the muffled sounds of his tv to annoy you - his partner had apologised for the volume, saying he's partially deaf in one ear from having been too close to explosions way too many times - you were left reading your book in silence. maybe you'd go to the grocery store later, stock up so you won't need to leave your house - the weatherman said it's going to get colder, heavy snow expected.

johnny hands simon the keys to his flat. him and his bird are going to the supermarket, there's nothing in the fridge or the cupboards for the next few days. the scot told him to take a shower, relax and make himself at home until they come back, and he didn't have to be told twice with the biting cold making his nose stuffy.

johnny's building is freshly painted to look new on the outside but old on the inside. he's been here before, and he remembers mactavish struggling to open his front door sometimes, for the lock got stuck.

he tries to reenact the technique his best friend uses to get in, trying his hardest to open the door gently instead of pushing with his shoulder like he does back at his own flat. he turns the key one, two, three times and pulls forward softly, trying to turn the key for the fourth and final time.

fuck. you gotta be fucking joking.

"fuckin' hell."

he tries again. and again, this time throwing his bag on the floor. the door rattles as he uses a bit more force, frustration building steadily and quickly.

you press play on spotify, the familiar voices of joe and frank from the basement yard podcast filling your ears. your headphones are pushing the hair out of your face and also act as ear muffs. you check your coat pockets for your phone and keys, nodding to yourself before kissing your cat goodbye. you promise her treats from the grocery store.

at first, you don't notice the hunk of a man at the door next to yours. the podcast is on full volume and your securing your scarf around your shoulder. it's when you turn to shut your door that you freeze mid-step.

in front of you, with is back turned to you, there's a giant guy pressing all his weight to johnny's door. he's wearing all black, hood drawn up, which makes this situation much much scarier.

fuck fuck fuck fuck. what the fuck. he's tryinf to break in the flat. oh fuck fuck fuck, what do i do? has he noticed me? he hasn't turned around yet. what the fuck. shit fuck. FUCK. what the fuck?!

your body reacts a few seconds later. with wide eyes and pursed lips, you hold your breath, and take a step inside your home. half your body is outside, facing him incase he decides to turn around and your arm is blindly reaching for your big umbrella.

once you have a stready hold on it, you don't hesitate to take two big steps forward and hurl it on the intruder's neck. your headphones for on your shoulders, and you hit him again, and this time he physically recoils.

you hit him another time, not quite as hard, and flinch at the sound the plastic makes against his jacket but you're gaining confidence as he grunts in pain. you shout something at him, something about this being karma for trying to break into somebody else's house, and he yelps something in response, but the blood rushing in your ears is louder than your voices.

you swing the umbrella back to hit him again, gathering all the courage you can muster for a final blow. you take a millisecond more to do so and he has time to move before it can connect with his back. unfortunately for the guy, the umbrella hits the side of his face.

he yelps and you drop it with a gasp, hands covering your mouth in shock.

his face is still hidden under his hood, but his ungloved fingers reach for his cheek, where the tip of the umbrella connected.

there's a moment of silence. your eyes are wider than before, as wide as saucers, and you're breathing heavily like him. you're scared beyond your mind, the fear having paralysed you once again. you stand there watching him rub his face witha grunt.

"you fuckin' crazy or wha', lady?!" he finally speaks with gritted teeth. his accent is hot. "'m not a fucking intruder."

oh shit.

"...you're not?"

"no, the fuck 'm not," he says calmly, and your heart rate picks up. "would an intruder have keys to the bloody flat?" he shows you the keys and you gasp softly, recognising johnny's scottish flag keychain.

"i'm—oh," your hands reach out as you try to approach him. "i'm so terribly sorry, i just—mactavish isn't home and you're huge and you were throwing yourself at the door and you have your hood up and you're so. fucking. big, i thought you were trying to rob the place—" you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts - you just beat a guy with an umbrella for no fucking reason!!!!!! ‐ "here, let me help you." you signal for him to enter your flat.

simon watches you for a moment. flushed cheeks, eyes glassy and overflowing emotions, hands waving frantically as you open your own door wider for him to walk in.

he should refuse. flat out say no. you just attacked him with an umbrella for fucks sake. it's still in your trembling hands. he should refuse. but you said mactavish. you know johnny. and he knows himself. he must've looked terrifying to you, back hunched over the lock, shoulder pushing on the old wooden door.

you look genuinely sorry and worried, very willing to let him into your home, even though he hasn't given you any information about himself. for all you know, he could've stolen the keys from johnny or his bird, he could be a proper burglar.

he should shake his head and turn your back on you. it doesn't even hurt. he's had worse. he thinks his cheekbone might have a scratch, but he's fine. ghost has been through torture before - your hits are nothing compared to that.

but you're pretty. extremely so.

so, he nods slowly, removing his hand from his cheek and grabbing his duffel bag from the ground. you wait by the door, watching his every move as he walks in.

you point to your kitchen chair, he sits - he's so imposing, your kitchen seems smaller with him in it - and you immediately rush for a pack of beans from the freezer and a towel.

"put this on your cherk," you instruct and disappear somwhere further inside the flat. he watches you.

when you come back you have rubbing alcohol, cotton pads and a packet of band-aids. simon begins to stand.

"'s not necessary. 's barely a scratch, ma'am."

you don't even look at him as you set the stuff down. he stares at you. "no, no, i feel terrible - the least i can do is fix your face."

"you sayin' my mug is ugly?"

you pause, head snapping to the side to meet the stranger's eyes. you frown, another apology ready to escape your lips.

he's smirking. right corner of his lips tilted up. he's joking. your shoulders sag and you exhale with a smile.

"no, your face is quite nice, stranger."

it is. strong features, long nose - looks to have been broken a hundred times - some scars here and there, long eyelashes and pretty brown eyes.

"simon. simon riley."

simon. nice name - suits him. friend of johnny's, you remember. probably military, judging by the width of his back. and the unintenional scrutinising and intimidating gaze.

you introduce yourself, breath hitching when he repeats your first name slowly.

"pretty name." you shrug, grabbing a wet cotton pad and slowly moving it towards him. he doesn't pull away, and you press it against the small scratch on his cheek as he speaks. "suppose a pretty girl deserves a pretty name."

you chuckle, heat rising up your neck and spreading to your cheeks as you move on to the pack of band-aids.

"so, you know johnny?" you ask.

"saved his ugly mug a coupl'a times. we're spending christmas here."

your smile falters as you stick the small band-aid on his cheek (only now realising it has anakin skywalker printed on it). you're once again reminded of how lonely you'll be during christmas. simon notices it, but hesitates asking if you're okay.

"sorry for the uh, band-aid. uh, i don't have any normal ones." he brushes it off with a shake of his head. "you're good to go, now. i'm sure you have things to do."

simon silently gets up and grabs his things, all while watching you put your coat and scarf back on. whatever light you had on your face moments before is gone, and he's trying to figure out what he said wrong to cause this.

he follows you out of the flat, mind forming different ways to ask if something's wrong. he can't help but ask when he hears you sigh heavily, almost defeated.

"you okay, love?"

"huh—what?" you look at him once and then continue locking your door.

"you alright? did i say something that upset you?"

your smile returns with his words, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"no, i'm all good, don't worry. just don't want to go for groceries in the freezing cold, ya know?" he nods, jiggling johnny's keys in his hands. "anyway, it was nice meeting you, simon. and i'm really sorry for thinking you're an intruder and hitting you with my umbrella and whatnot. i hope to see you around - have fun!"

and before he can ask where you're spending your christmas, or why you're going to the supermarket instead of packing to go back to wherever your home is - your accent clearly indicates you're not from edinburgh, as if the books, pens, and scattered notebooks at your home were not enough - you're walking down the stairs and dissappear from his eyesight.

simon stands for a moment before turning to the door again. you're interesting, to say the least, and you said his face was...nice - he doesn't get that often. and you have band-aids with Star Wars characters, and you laughed at his joke. and you were brave enough to attack him when you thought he was a burglar.

yeah, he hopes to see you around too.

[bandgie]

On Your Knees Pt.2

ONE | TWO

synopsis: They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but this one seems eager for a treat.

warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, incel!seungmin, pussy eating/fingering, PIV (raw), edging (m!), blue balls, multiple orgasms (f!), dom reader (kinda), banter, prolly more that I missed lol

3.1k words

Seungmin doesn't think there'll be any way for him to live how he has been. Even the friends he spends time with hardly compare to the time he spends on the bathroom floor eating you out. Embarrassingly enough, it's all he can think about. Even as the podcast he's watching blares through his headphones, he can barely make out what they're saying.

Something about how it's submissive for a man to eat pussy. How demeaning the act is for a man to do. Yet, Seungmin questions the validity of what these so-called 'alpha' men are saying. Is it truly so terrible to have the taste of a cunt on your lips? To suck and lick on such a delicious flower?

He shuts his computer off, ripping the headphones by the wire to hone in on his conclusions. 

Okay so maybe this is normal. Seungmin's a big boy; it makes sense that he would eat pussy sooner or later. And if he liked it, that's also fine. He's a man, after all, it makes more sense to like giving girls head than to hate it.

Just as long as he doesn't try to reach out to you. Now that would be submissive of him. And if there's anything Seungmin is dead set on, it's that he is not submissive. 

But days after not seeing you with Han, days of not getting a taste of the pussy that has him whipped has him doing things he's sworn not to do. He found your number, he texted you, and he's going over your house on your conditions.

He's so fucked. 

It's too late to turn back by the time he's at your front door. Seungmin only waits a few seconds before the door swings open. He's seen you about a dozen times, but it's the first time he's felt his heart swoop at the sight of you. He reasons it's just because you're in a t-shirt.

"Oh wow," you take a step back and look at him up and down, somewhat in disbelief. "I can't believe you actually came."

Seungmin can't find it in himself to believe he came here on his own violation either. "Whatever," he shivers from the cold, night air. "Are you gonna let me in or what?" 

You take a step aside to make room, "Since you asked so nicely."

Seungmin takes awkward steps into your apartment, noting the cozy setup and simple plants littered in your living space. His fingertips run on the soft material of the couch, pulling on the loose threads automatically.

You walk past him, taking a seat on your couch and reaching for the remote. "I was just about to put something on," you turn and look up at him. "Come on."

Tentatively, Seungmin walks around the sofa to you. Just before he takes his seat, you click your tongue. "Nope. On the floor." You point to the space between your legs. Seungmin hands close and open, unsure what to make of the situation. You sigh and loll your head to the side, looking at him unamused. "You gonna sit down or what?"

Seungmin glowers at you, "I am. You don't need to be such as ass about it." He grumbles a little more before bending down and crossing his legs to face the TV. "Nope, wrong way," you twirl your finger in a circular motion to indicate him to face you instead. 

He looks at you confused, "But you said we were gonna put something on." You shake your head at him, "No. I said I'm gonna put something on. I never said anything about you." A hint of red begins to show on Seungmin's face, but before he has the chance to most likely curse you, you spread your legs. 

You can practically see the words die in Seungmin's throat at the sight of your bare cunt. He acts before he can think, twisting his body fully and gripping the underside of your thighs to spread you further. It's better than he remembers.

"This is why you came, right?" You look down at him. "Missed the taste of this pussy?"

Seungmin licks his lips, nodding mindlessly. Something about taste and pussy, but he understood nonetheless. His tongue pokes out, but you grip his hair and yank him upwards. Seungmin whines, like an animal tore away from his meal, but you ignore it. "You're just here to make me feel good, got it? You don't get to cum, only I do. Do you understand?"

You have to shake his head to force an answer out of him. "Yes yes yes." He shifts anxiously in your hold. "Only you. I'll make you feel good."

Despite his desperation, you smile. "Good boy. Go ahead."

The moment your grip loosens, Seungmin latches onto your core. It's soft, it's warm, it's good. He moans into your cunt, inhaling through his nose and he dips his tongue between your folds. It's only been days since he's tasted you, but it feels far too long. How could he go a single minute without tasting you? Getting that sticky arousal on his lips so the taste could mingle in his mouth the entire day? Seungmin puckers his lips and kisses your cunt, a thank you for introducing him to a whole new world. 

Your fingers mindlessly click on the buttons of the remote as you try and find a show. You keep switching back and forth between options, clicking random buttons until you accidentally set the caption to a different language. One of your hands pet the top of Seungmin's head, pushing back his hair and twirling it in your fingers. 

His tongue slides down until it catches your entrance, barely prodding it until he slides it back up to your clit. He swirls your bud in his mouth, sucking and licking until your hips buck. "Shit," you breathe. "You really missed my pussy, huh?"

Seungmin opens his eyes to look up at you. He turns his head sideways to place your clit in his mouth, flicking your clit rapidly. That's as much of an answer as you're getting, but it does the job. He lifts his head back up and sucks harshly, pulling on your sensitive flesh before releasing it. You shiver and moan, feeling your arousal drip onto the couch that you'll make him clean up later. 

"Fuck yes," your grip tighten on his hair. "Finger me." Seungmin leans back and uses his hands to rub your pussy. His fingers rub and swirl around your core until they're drenched. He trails them down until they catch your entrance, pushing his middle and ring finger in. 

You throw the remote on the couch and grip the cushions. The stretch is slight, but his fingers are long. They reach much deeper than you could ever do yourself, and you let out a loud moan when they finally settle all the way inside. Seungmin pumps you slowly, getting used to how your walls pulse and clench around him. He watches as your cunt swallows his fingers. His cock throbs in his pants. 

"Shiiit," you throw your head back onto the headrest. "I'll cum if you keep doing that."

That's all he's ever wanted. Seungmin places his mouth back onto your clit where his tongue flattens against your cunt. He moves his head up and down while thrusting his fingers in and out. Both of your hands are tugging on his hair, pulling and pushing him away. 

"Already?" He pulls away for a moment to speak. "Didn't think you'd be this easy, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised." A devilish smile appears on his lips as you lift your head to look at him. You wish you could come up with a snide remark, but your head starting to feel fuzzy and all you can focus on is how close you are. 

You push his head back to your pussy and wrap your legs around his body, locking him in. "I'll make you regret saying that."

Seungmin laughs into your cunt, happy that he succeeded in pissing you off. Now that he's pushed against you, it's a little difficult to finger you as rapidly, but you rather like the shallow thrusts. It gives you more to clench down on and ride while he licks your clit. You buck your hips and ride his face inelegantly. The first hints of your orgasm build in your stomach, making your body feel unbelievably warm as your hips stutter. 

"Fuck," you rasp. "Imma cum." You blink a few times and lazily smile at him, "Did you miss the taste of that too?"

As an answer, Seungmin buries himself so deep into you that his nose is pressed against your clit. The extra texture is enough to send you over the edge, creaming on his fingers and twitching in his mouth. He happily gulps down your arousal, slipping his fingers out to replace them with his tongue instead. 

You just taste so good. Seungmin is delightfully reminded of how it felt to swallow you for the first time, how the taste settled on his tastebuds. His tongue scoops out the white cream your pussy flooded out and spreads it on your clit before licking it back up again. 

He hums, shoving his cum-stained fingers when you finally release him from your hold. 

Seungmin wants it again. His hands splay over your thighs to spread them. After all, it's you who gets to cum. It's only fair he makes sure you can as much as possible. But before his tongue has the chance to find its rightful place in your pussy, you snap your legs shut.

He looks up at you like a wounded dog, "Hey! Open them back up!"

Seungmin isn't sure what he's expecting to see, but it definitely isn't how you look right now. Flushed with a heaving chest, eyes that are wide and full of arousal, and a cheeky smile on your bitten lips. He's reminded of how pretty you actually are. 

"Get up," you snap him out of his thoughts. "Take off your pants too."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Seungmin rises from his aching knees and fumbles with his belt. He unties it quickly before undoing the top of his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers. You gasp, eyes locking with his cock for the first time. 

"Holy shit," you slap a hand over your mouth. He's hard. His cock is red at the tip, leaking with so much precum you think he's had to stain his underwear. You can almost see it twitching from lack of attention, begging to be touched. 

Seungmin smiles, grabbing the base and squeezing it. "You like it, huh?" It's not easy to take your gaze off his length to look into his eyes instead. The sight of him has you aching to be filled. Your pussy clenches around nothing, but you keep your nose upturned, "It's alright."

He scoffs, but the smile never fades. You widen your legs and welcome him, watching as he gets into a half-squat position to angle his cock towards your entrance. Seungmin rubs his tip over your sensitive clit. When it catches your nub, you jolt. You wrap your legs around him and bring him closer. He does it again, this time pressing the head of his cock down to apply pressure. 

You reason he's doing this on purpose. Making your pussy squelch and your hips jolt to try and get him inside. As much as you hate to admit it, he's good with his dick. Teasing you by slowly dragging the fat of his head down your slit, slapping his tip and your wet cunt. You're annoyingly reminded of what he said days ago; 'I can make a girl cum. I just don't care to.'

The words echo in your mind and you scrunch your nose. "God, fuck! Stop pissing me off and put it in already."

For a moment, you think he's going to defy you. His tip trails lower and lower until it's against your entrance. Seungmin steadies his cock at the base and pushes forwards, barely spreading you open. "Didn't think I'd ever hear you begging for my cock," he smiles at you teasingly. "You were being such a feminist the other day. What happened?"

Not-so-nice words begin to form in your head and before you get the chance to spew them out, Seungmin pushes all the way in. His cock stretches you out more than you anticipated, and it's whines that leave your lips instead. He doesn't give you the chance to adjust as he pulls nearly all the way, save for his tip, before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts and you whimper again. 

Your pussy can't keep up with his pace, but you hardly mind the pain. It blurs into white pleasure that burns hot in your cunt. 

"You hear that?" Seungmin pants through his thrusts. "That's the sound of your pussy getting fucked by an...what was it again? An incel?" He laughs as your eyes darken with anger, seething with a type of emotion you're not too familiar with. 

You reach out the grip his wrist that's placed on the side of the couch, digging your nails into his flesh. Seungmin hardly notices the pain, his teeth shining in his shit-eating smile.

The words are stuck in your throat. You want no more than to tell Seungmin how much of an ass he is, that his cock is merely adequate, but you can't. Every drag of his length rubs against your walls deliciously. You can practically feel every vein on him as he fucks you raw. He makes your hot pussy even hotter and he, unfortunately for you, keeps dragging his cock against that sweet spot deep inside you.

"You," a breath from you, "are a dick."

Strangely enough, your words seem to spur him on more. He tears his hand from your iron grip to place them both under your hips. Seungmin angles your hips upwards and drives forward, shoving his cock unbelievably deeper. Your hands shoot up to your face, trying to block all sounds of pleasure, but Seungmin can hear them. He can hear the gasping behind your fingers, the high-pitched moans muffled in your hands. 

Seungmin laughs, but it sounds winded. "A dick huh? That's funny. You seem to like being fucked by one."

It occurs to you that you've been too lenient on him. Letting him eat the very same pussy he's thrusting into, letting him fuck you raw. His attitude needs some shaping.

You let him keep fucking you. You let his cock throb and twitch in your pussy. He's close, but he's doing good at holding back. Seungmin must be used to dumping his cum and leaving, but he seems to hold out just for you. It's cute, but your plan is better. 

Your head bounces with every thrust. Seungmin makes sure to keep his long fingers at your clit the entire time, switching between pinching and flicking against it. It helps to build your second orgasm. Your jaw falls open and your moans become more frequent.

"Shit," he breathes. "Pussy gripping me so tight. Is someone gonna cum again?"

Blinking up at him, you nod. Your hand grips your chest, squeezing your boobs underneath the material as you keep nodding. "Mhm. Keep fucking my pussy and I'll cream all over your cock." That does it for him. Seungmin has been holding back his orgasm so much that his ears feel like they might burst. 

With new vigor, he fucks into you harder, deeper. Seungmin doesn't try to hide the animalistic sounds he makes, groaning and moaning as your walls wrap around his cock. "You want my cum, huh? Acting all big and strong when it's you're begging for it. Say it. Tell me you want my cum."

You don't, not because you're prideful, but because you can't. He's thrusting into you so roughly that words seem to leave you. His hand pulls your clit roughly, and the harsh tug drives you over the edge. You squeeze your breasts so tightly to anchor yourself. You can feel how your pussy floods with your cum, leaving your legs trembling and shaking. 

Seungmin can feel it too. The pulsing, the wetness. It's enough to finally let him release. His balls tighten, his dick twitches, and he-

"Pull out."

Seungmin doesn't know why he listens. He was so close to his orgasm, he could still taste it on his tongue. But your demand outweighs his need to cum. With a wail, he pulls out. A small whimper makes its way past you as he finally slips out, cock shining in your cum. 

His cock is red, rubbed nearly raw from how good he was keeping himself at bay. You can see the head of his cock pulsing, worse than the first time you saw it. A wicked smile finds your lips. 

"Do you remember what I said earlier, Seungie?" You speak with artificial gentleness. Seungmin is too busy trying not to cum, squeezing the base of his cock almost painfully. You have to repeat your question before he finally looks up to you. "Huh? About what?"

"About who gets to cum," you remind him. "Who is it that gets to cum tonight?"

Seungmin thinks back about how you presented your cunt to him, bare and wet. He briefly recalls how you said something about being the only one to cum, but he was so entranced by your sweet pussy that he hardly cared.

He frowns, face flushed. "But that's not fair! I ate you out. You came on my tongue. You came on my dick. I'm so hard and-"

"And that doesn't matter," you interrupt him. "I never said you can cum. That's your fault for assuming you could." You have to bite back you smile at his pitiful reaction.

Even with his dejected look, you can't help but find it somewhat cute. You fake a pout and click your tongue, "Poor thing. Here, kisses will make you feel better."

Seungmin wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't you widening your legs and him falling to his knees. Yet, he does just that. You feel his warm, wet tongue on your throbbing clit. Sucking and licking eagerly like he forgot about the aching cock between his legs. 

You fondly brush the hair from his face as he eats you out for the second time tonight. His eyes look up to you with your clit in your mouth and you shiver. Seungmin will be a handful for sure, but you can't help but think you've found the perfect diamond in the rough.

a/n: omfg I actually had a whole different idea but I scraped it and did this instead :p. if you wanna ask for a third part, please don't, I have no more plot for this fic tags: @mynsung, @andassortedkpop, @jminnnnnnn, @geneziesm, @applekiwi3202, @i6gyuu, @lazycarolinamoment, @lewoh-ot8-wh0re, @ihave-atummyache, @seeeeking-skz, @loeyscock, @blankdyean, @dini-recs, @yzsqu, @desirehorizon-recsextra a/n: I need to start asking if people want tags rather than looking through my comments and see who was asking for a pt 2 :(

[bobawitch]

Sweater Weather | M.S.

summary: reader makes a crochet sweater for her boyfriend matt. she later sees him wearing it in their next podcast

pairing: matt x fem!reader

a/n: tbh i dont love this fic but i hope yall like it. a nick fic and a chris fic as well as a new chapter of lets trip are on their way so be on the lookout.

wc: 878

cw: fluff, that should be it

Matt had been your boyfriend for almost 2 years by now. You had been in plenty of videos and even a few podcasts and for the most part the fans really loved you. That had been a huge concern for you and Matt, so when the fans had an uproar of support and love you found yourself feeling much more comfortable.

On that specific day you had been crocheting while watching some of the triplets videos along with some of Larray’s. You had wanted to make Matt a sweater ever since you started crocheting but you had kept this little project a secret. Your phone began to ring and you looked down to see a facetime from Matt. Immediately you grabbed your phone and picked up, smiling at Matt’s face. “Hey baby” You smiled and waved at Matt through the phone, setting it up so he could only see your face. “Hi love, how’s your day been?” You continued to crochet the last few rows of the sweater, smiling down at your work. “Good, we just got done filming for Friday. How has yours been?”  You shrugged and began folding the sweater. It wasn’t the best work but it looked good enough that you didn’t feel the need to remake it. It was blue and white and black, it was fluffy and had some skulls and hearts on it. “Good, I’ve been working on a little something for you actually.” Matt’s eyes grew wide and he made a small o with his mouth before smiling.” “Can I see??” You grinned and shook your head. “No but you can come over and I’ll give it to you.” Matt fake pouted before you heard some rustling. Soon after you hear a few keys jingling. “I’ll be over in 10.” You nodded, biting your thumb nail with a smile. “Ok, see you soon.” The call hung up shortly after and you turned off the TV before properly folding up the sweater and putting it in an old present bag. 

After a few more minutes you hear your front door open and you walk around the corner to find Matt. You immediately give him a hug, burying your face in his chest. “Hey love, you miss me?” Matt chuckled through his question since you hugged him so harshly. You mumbled and nodded, smiling and looking up at him. “Yeah.” He smiled down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You wanna see your gift?” Matt eagerly nodded before letting you go. You grabbed his hand before leading him into your living room. You grabbed the little bag and handed it to him, smiling and watching him open the gift. He pulled the pale blue sweater from the bag and a big smile crossed his lips as he examined it. “Oh my god, did you make this?” You nodded with a sheepish grin across your face. “Oh my god, Y/N! I love it!” Your cheeks became warm and you moved to hug Matt who enveloped you quickly. He hugged you tight around the waist and picked you up, spinning you in a circle before kissing you. You kissed back, your hands finding their way in his messy hair. Soon you pulled away and smiled at the boy. Your forehead rested against his as you both caught your breath. "Are you gonna wear it all the time?" You asked, knowing your question came from a teasing place. Matt grinned wide, finally setting you down and allowing his hands to rest lazily on your hips. "Of course I am. I'm tempted to never take it off, baby." Your cheeks tinted pink at his reply, mainly because you knew he was dead serious. Your own lips curled into a smile as you wrapped your arms around his waist in a tight hug.

About 5 days later you got the notification that Matt and his brothers had posted their weekly podcast. You of course planned to watch it but as you went to click on the video you noticed what Matt was wearing in the thumbnail. It was the sweater you had made him. You smiled to yourself, biting the top of your thumb nail before pressing play on the video. You finished the video and started scrolling through the comments, a few were about Matt’s outfit which made you grin from ear to ear. As you basked in the glory of having both Matt and his fairly harsh fans like your sweater, your phone began to ring. It was a facetime from Matt. You picked up and smiled, “I liked your outfit in the podcast baby.” Matt grinned and moved the camera to show that he was still wearing it. “When did you guys film that podcast?” “Oh like, the day after you gave it to me.” You smiled, nodding in a sudden understanding. “Well I’m glad you like it.” Matt smiled, bringing his phone closer to him, as if he could hug you through the screen. “I love it baby, thank you so much for making it for me.” Your cheeks became warm as you mimicked his movements, holding the phone close to you. “I love you Matt.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too Y/N.” 

[mxqdii]

hey! i love love your work, and i was wondering if i could request a chris sturniolo x fem!reader?

maybe reader is also a well known influencer, or an actress or something of the sort, and there’s rumours about her and chris being together that they haven’t really confirmed?

but they are dating and she’s on live one day and he calls her like an intimate pet name, or just overall says something that shows they are in fact together and like the comments on the live just go crazy and stuff and shes like telling chris she’s on live or whatver

im so sorry if this doesnt make sense 🙏🙏

stop bc i requested pretty much this same thing to another author (on wattpad) a few months back, so when i read this request it was such an "i made it" moment (i love u sm, you're just like me fr fr)

baby - c.s

pairings: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris accidentally calls reader 'baby' while she's on live, revealing to the whole world that they're dating/

warning(s): fluff, reader calling chris bro 😔

not proofread

i'm sitting on the couch, watching tv, bored out of my mind.

then an idea hits me, i could go on live!

i used to go live a lot with the triplets, but only on their account, so it would be fun to go live on mine.

i open instagram and click the live button, watching the stream fill with thousands of people

"holy shit that's a lot of people" i say with a nervous laugh

"uhh i guess i'll answer any questions anyone has! so feel free to ask anything!" i add, smiling

i read through the comments, lots of them asking where the triplets are

i can't help but notice seeing a few asking if me and chris are dating.

fortunately, those allegations are true! but we've decided to keep it quiet for, just for now.

still, there’s only so much one can hide from the public

and although me and chris haven't said anything, i think everybody knows anyway.

people can see our glances, our gestures, how close we are, it's all pretty obvious.

i answer a few questions like my favorite singer, when my next video is coming out, podcast stuff with the triplets, and just some other various topics.

suddenly i hear the door unlock, looking over at it, but not really caring.

maybe i can get whichever triplet that is to join my live.

chris walks in and i smile in his direction

"hey baby" he says and my expression immediately drops.

i look at him, PALE.

(absolutely terrified to look back at the screen)

"what?" he says, walking closer, i turn my head to the screen, anticipating my death.

i let out a sigh of relief seeing the comments

@ssturniolo BABY???

@strniolo AWWWWWWWW

@lvrsparadise GOODBYE I LOVE THEM.

@ellieswifie this is such a chris and y/n mistake 😭

@lavieenvalentina i'm so happy for them i'll cry

(shoutout to everyone tagged ILY<;3)

as i'm reading the comments, i smile, chris hovering over me reading them too

suddenly he hugs me from behind, squeezing me tight

"chris!" i say laughing

"let me go bro" i whine

"you did not just call me bro" he says, immediately stopping

his death glare makes me laugh

"consider it payback for you calling me baby on live" i say laughing

(him clearly not amused)

"okay fine fine im sorry, guys it's all okay he's not my bro please let me redeem myself" i say joking on the last part

me and chris stay on live for another 30 minutes, answering questions about how we got together and just stuff about our relationship.

"bye guys we love you!!" i say, ending the live

i close out of insta, putting my phone down with an exhausted sigh

"so?" i mumble, anticipating chris's response

"so? so nothing" he say's with a smile and i face palm

"chris! we just told like, the world that we're dating" i laugh

"yeah, and i'm happy about it, like honestly i can't think of a better way it could've happened" he says

we both look at eachother and burst out laughing

"we're a little interesting thats for sure" i say

"i can't believe we tell the world we're dating ON ACCIDENT and then you start calling me bro" chris says, making me laugh harder

"i was nervous! im sorry!" i yell with my hands up in defense

"yeah yeah, it's fine" he says, wrapping his arms around me

"bro" he adds on

"chris i swear to god-"

TAGLIST:

@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 1

part 2 - Life 360

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Drinking, food,flirting, DRUGGING, KIDNAPPING, talks of true crime THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: A Tinder date goes very, very wrong, but you always considered yourself prepared for such situations.

WC: 2.9K

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

A/n: I tried to step out of my comfort zone a little with this. It's based on a post I saw while doom-scrolling on this app from @blondwhowrites. She had this amazing post about wanting to see more readers who fight and don't stop. They don't lose hope, they go into survival mode, and I just hope I do this idea somewhat justice.

Swipe. Swipe. Swipe.

Two glasses of wine deep, you and your best friend sat comfortably on the couch, a true crime podcast playing in the background. The room was dimly lit, the only sources of light being the glow from the TV and the occasional flicker from a scented candle on the coffee table. The smell of lavender and vanilla filled the air, mixing with the earthy aroma of the red wine. 

You laughed as your friend, Jess, made a snide comment about the latest murder suspect discussed on the podcast. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face, a playful glint in her eyes as she took another sip of her wine. You felt a warm buzz from the alcohol, a pleasant contrast to the cold shiver the podcast sent down your spine.

"Can you believe some people are actually that dumb?" Jess snorted. "I mean, come on. Who leaves that much evidence behind?"

You nodded, your eyes focused on your phone screen, fingers swiping left and right in a rhythmic motion. Tinder had become a mindless distraction, a game you played together to pass the time and maybe, just maybe, find someone interesting. The profiles blurred together after a while, a parade of faces and bios that hardly registered in your mind.

"Ugh, another one with a fish picture," you groaned, swiping left. "Do they think holding a dead fish makes them more attractive?"

Jess laughed, nearly spilling her wine. "Maybe it's supposed to show they're 'outdoorsy' or something. Like, 'Hey, I can provide for you in the apocalypse with my fishing skills.'"

You rolled your eyes, ready to swipe again, when Jess nudged you with her elbow. "Wait, wait. Give me the phone for a sec."

Reluctantly, you handed it over, watching as she scrolled through your potential matches with a critical eye. She made a few quick swipes, her lips pursed in concentration.

"Nope. Nope. Definitely nope," she muttered. Then, suddenly, she paused, her finger hovering over the screen. "Oh, hello. Who's this?"

You leaned in, your curiosity piqued. On the screen was a man named Joel. He was 56, a contractor, and attractive for his age. His profile picture showed a ruggedly handsome man with a salt-and-pepper beard and piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you. He had an air of confidence about him, the kind that made you stop and take a second look.

"Damn," Jess said, raising her eyebrows. "He kind of looks like Pedro Pascal. Not bad for an older guy."

You couldn't help but agree. There was something undeniably appealing about Joel, something that made you hesitate before swiping. You read through his bio, which mentioned his love for traveling, his work as a contractor, and his interest in trying new wines. 

"Well," Jess said, nudging you again, "it's your last free swipe. What do you think?"

You took a deep breath, your finger hovering over the screen. There was a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness. Finally, with a small, decisive movement, you swiped right.

As the screen flashed "It's a match!", you felt a thrill of anticipation. Jess cheered, raising her glass in a mock toast. "Here's to Joel and his contractor skills. May he be as good with his hands as he is with a hammer."

The sound of your phone buzzing broke through the haze of wine and laughter. You glanced down, surprised to see a new message notification from Joel. Jess leaned over, peering at your screen.

"Well, well," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Looks like Mr. Contractor is making the first move. That's not something you see every day."

"Yeah," you agreed, a bit taken aback. "It's kind of refreshing."

With a grin, you opened the message. It was simple, yet charming: "Hey there. I saw you like trying new wines. Any recommendations?"

Jess snickered, taking another sip of her wine. "Smooth, Joel. Real smooth."

You couldn't help but smile as you typed out a reply. "Hey Joel! If you like reds, you should try a good Malbec. There's a great one from Argentina that I'm obsessed with."

His response was almost immediate. "Sounds perfect. I've been meaning to expand my wine knowledge. Maybe you could give me a lesson sometime?"

You showed the message to Jess, who giggled and nudged you playfully. "Look at you, already setting up a date. You go, girl."

You blushed, quickly typing back. "I'd love to. Any wines you're particularly curious about?"

Joel's reply came swiftly. "I'm open to anything, really. Maybe you can surprise me?"

Jess leaned in, reading over your shoulder. "Ooh, he’s smooth. What are you going to say?"

"How about this," you muttered, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Great! How about we start with a nice Pinot Noir? It's a favorite of mine."

"Sounds fantastic. Any recommendations for a good one?" Joel texted back.

Jess snorted. "He's definitely into you."

The conversation flowed easily after that. Joel proved to be both witty and engaging. He shared stories of his recent travel adventures, his favorite being a trip to Italy. "I spent a week in Tuscany, just soaking in the culture and, of course, the wine," he wrote.

You smiled, replying, "I've always wanted to go to Italy. Did you visit any vineyards?"

"Several! It was incredible. The scenery, the people...everything was perfect. You should definitely go if you get the chance."

Jess sighed dreamily. "Italy, vineyards, and wine? He’s painting quite the picture. Ask him about his work!"

You typed quickly, "So, tell me more about your work. What kind of projects do you usually take on?"

"I'm mostly into residential renovations, but I dabble in commercial projects too. Keeps things interesting. My favorite project was restoring this old Victorian house. Took a lot of work, but it was worth it."

Joel sent a photo of the Victorian house, its intricate details beautifully restored. Jess peered at the screen, impressed. "Wow, he's really good. That house looks amazing."

"Right?" you agreed, replying to Joel. "The house looks incredible. You have a real talent."

"Thank you! I love what I do. How about you? What keeps you busy?"

You shared stories about your job and hobbies, feeling the conversation flow as naturally as the wine. The atmosphere in the room grew even more relaxed, filled with the sound of your laughter and the comforting cadence of the podcast in the background.

"He's really something," Jess said, leaning back into the couch. "I haven't seen you this excited about anyone in a while."

You nodded, a warm flutter of excitement in your chest. "I know. It's...nice."

Jess smiled knowingly. "He's definitely a keeper. I should probably head home though. Work tomorrow, unfortunately."

"Yeah, me too," you sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment as the evening wound down.

Jess gathered her things, giving you a hug at the door. "Good luck with Joel. He seems like a great guy. Text me all the details later, okay?"

"Will do," you promised, waving as she disappeared into the night.

Returning to the couch, you saw another message from Joel. "It was great talking with you tonight. I'd love to continue our conversation over that Malbec. What do you say?"

You smiled, feeling a warm flutter of excitement. "I'd like that too. How about this weekend?"

Joel’s reply was quick. "That sounds perfect. How about Saturday night? I know a great Italian place downtown. We can have dinner and then maybe a glass of that Malbec at my place?"

You hesitated for a moment, the true crime stories from the podcast playing in your mind. But something about Joel felt genuine, and you decided to take a chance. "Saturday night works for me. What time?"

"How about 7 PM? I can pick you up if you’d like."

You thought about it, weighing the pros and cons. Jess had always warned you about letting strangers know where you lived, but Joel seemed different. Maybe it was the wine or his charm, but you felt a sense of trust. "Sure, that sounds great. I live at 112 Maple Street, apartment 4B."

"Got it. Looking forward to it. Have a good night!" Joel replied.

"Good night, Joel," you texted back, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

The next few days passed in a blur of anticipation. Jess was thrilled when you updated her, giving you tips on what to wear and what to talk about. By the time Saturday rolled around, you were a bundle of nerves and excitement.

As the clock neared 7 PM, you stood in front of your mirror, adjusting your dress for the hundredth time. It was a simple, elegant black dress that Jess had insisted was perfect for the occasion. You had paired it with a delicate necklace and your favorite heels, wanting to strike the right balance between casual and sophisticated.

Before heading downstairs, you grabbed your phone and texted Jess. "Hey, just a heads up. I’m going to that Italian place downtown with Joel. His address is 245 Fallsview Lane. I’ll text you when I get back. My Life360 will be on the whole night. Can you check on my location occasionally?"

Jess replied almost immediately. "Got it! Be safe and have fun. Text me if anything feels off. I'll keep an eye on your location."

You always prided yourself on being prepared. Too many hours of true crime shows had taught you the importance of caution. Sharing your whereabouts had become second nature; you never wanted to take any chances.

At exactly 7 PM, your phone buzzed with a message. "I’m outside :)"

You took a deep breath, grabbing your purse and heading downstairs. When you stepped outside, you saw Joel waiting by his car. He looked even better in person, his rugged charm accentuated by a casual yet stylish outfit.

"Hi," you greeted, feeling a bit shy.

"Hi," he replied with a warm smile. "You look amazing."

"Thank you," you said, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "You too."

Joel opened the car door for you, and you slid into the passenger seat, your nerves slowly easing as he drove towards the restaurant. The conversation flowed easily, much like it had over text, and by the time you arrived at the Italian place, you felt completely at ease.

The restaurant was cozy and inviting, with soft lighting and a warm atmosphere. Joel held the door open for you, and you were soon seated at a corner table, a bottle of red wine already waiting.

"This place is lovely," you said, looking around.

"I'm glad you like it," Joel replied, pouring you a glass of wine. "To new beginnings."

"To new beginnings," you echoed, clinking your glass against his.

The dinner was wonderful, filled with laughter and easy conversation. Joel was charming and attentive, his stories about his work and travels fascinating. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

"So," Joel said, leaning back in his chair, "tell me more about yourself. What do you do when you're not working or swiping on Tinder?"

You laughed, taking a sip of your wine. "I'm a server, working my way through college. I'm studying to become a digital design artist. In my free time, I love reading, especially true crime. I also enjoy hiking. What about you?"

"I enjoy traveling and exploring new places," Joel said, his eyes twinkling. "I’ve been to quite a few countries. It's always interesting to see how people live and what they value. Speaking of which, are you close with your family?"

You hesitated for a moment, the memory of your dad's death flashing in your mind. "Not really. My dad passed away a few years ago, and things have been strained since then. My family lives across the state, so I don't see them often."

Joel's expression softened. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must be tough."

You nodded, feeling a bit vulnerable. "It is, but I've learned to rely on my friends. They're like my chosen family."

"That’s great," Joel said, smiling warmly. "Having a strong support system is so important. Do you have a big circle of friends, or do you keep it more intimate?"

"Mostly intimate," you said. "I have a few close friends who mean the world to me. Jess, who you’ve heard me mention, is my best friend. We've known each other forever."

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "It sounds like you have a great support system. It's so important to have people you can rely on."

"Absolutely," you agreed, feeling warm and comfortable.

As the night went on, Joel skillfully guided the conversation, his questions always seeming casual and light. "So, have you ever traveled alone?" he asked, casually.

"Not really," you admitted. "I prefer to have someone with me. It feels safer that way."

"That's smart," Joel said, nodding approvingly. "Safety is always a priority. Speaking of which, do you have any health routines? Like, do you take any daily vitamins or medication?"

"Just the usual vitamins," you replied, not thinking much of it. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Joel said with a charming smile. "I like to know what keeps you healthy and happy."

You smiled, feeling flattered by his interest. The conversation continued to flow effortlessly, Joel's charm and attentiveness making you feel special.

After dinner, you and Joel were heading back to his place for a glass of Malbec. You hesitated again, the warnings from the true crime podcast whispering in your mind. But Joel's smile was disarming, and the evening had been so perfect that you found yourself agreeing.

Joel led you to his car, opening the door for you like a perfect gentleman. As he drove, you looked out the window, making a mental note of big landmarks. You saw the city skyline fading into the distance, a large water tower, and a distinctive old barn. You kept these in mind, your true crime-trained brain insisting on caution.

"So, what do you usually do to unwind after a long day?" Joel asked, his tone casual.

"I love reading," you replied, glancing at him. "Especially true crime. There's something fascinating about the psychology behind it all."

Joel chuckled, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road. "That's interesting. So you must know a lot about staying safe then, right?"

You nodded, feeling a bit more on guard. "Yeah, it's always good to be prepared."

Joel's eyes gleamed with a curiosity that felt too intense. "Do you ever get scared living alone?"

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. "Not really. I take precautions. Plus, I have friends who check in on me."

"That's smart," Joel said, nodding approvingly. "It’s good to have people who care about you."

Finally, you arrived at Joel’s place. It was a secluded farmhouse, far from the city lights and surrounded by dense woods. The house itself was charming, with warm lights glowing from the windows and a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

Joel led you inside, and you were greeted by the comforting smell of wood and faint hints of vanilla. He poured the Malbec, and you watched him closely, noting every move he made. He didn't seem to spike the drinks; it all looked perfectly innocent. You settled on the couch, feeling a mix of comfort and unease.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, raising your glass. "It’s been wonderful."

"Thank you," Joel replied, his eyes meeting yours. "I’m glad we matched."

You took a sip of the wine, savoring its rich flavor. As you talked, the conversation drifted naturally.

"So, what inspired you to go into digital design?" Joel asked, his curiosity genuine.

"I've always loved art and technology," you explained. "Digital design feels like the perfect blend of both. Plus, I enjoy creating things that people find useful and beautiful."

Joel nodded appreciatively. "That's a great combination. Do you have a favorite project you've worked on?"

You smiled, thinking back. "Probably a website I designed for a non-profit. It was challenging but incredibly rewarding."

Joel leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "That sounds amazing. Do you see yourself starting your own firm one day?"

"I'd love to," you admitted, feeling the warmth of his attention. "But for now, I'm just focusing on finishing my degree."

"That’s smart," Joel said. "One step at a time."

You took another sip of the wine, feeling a strange dizziness creeping in. Your vision blurred slightly, and you set your glass down, trying to focus.

"So, do you have any big plans for the future?" Joel asked, his voice sounding distant.

"I... I want to finish my degree," you managed to say, the room starting to spin.

Your true crime instincts kicked in hard. Something was wrong. Very wrong. You discreetly reached for your phone, trying to text Jess, but your fingers felt heavy and uncoordinated.

Joel’s voice was soothing, almost too soothing. "You seem a bit tired. Are you okay?"

You nodded, your heart racing. You had to get out. Now. You fumbled with your phone, trying to hit the call button for Jess, but your vision swam.

Joel leaned in closer, his expression concerned. "Do you need to lie down? Maybe you had too much wine."

Panic surged through you as you struggled to keep your thoughts clear. "No, I... I need to..."

Just as you were about to press send, the phone slipped from your fingers. Joel was quicker, catching you as you slumped forward. "Easy there," he murmured, his arms strong and steady around you.

The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was Joel's face, his expression unreadable. The phone buzzed futilely on the floor, Jess’s name glowing on the screen.

[senorabond]

Rumor Has It: Chapter 2 (Peña x f!reader x Pike)

Pairings: Javier Pena x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Pena x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 2 Summary: You’re reviewing the case file Javi gave you when a memory of your last night in D.C. distracts you. After a bit of a brainstorm, you decide it’s finally time to call Marcus back and get his opinion. He always has the right words.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Chapter Warnings: masturbation (f!reader), flashback, thigh riding, oral sex (f receiving), semi-public/workplace sex (evidence locker after hours), hand on throat for control, Dom/sub dynamic, soft Dom!Marcus, praise kink, you are such a good girl

Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem/afab. Marcus is strong enough to lift Reader up onto the edge of a table (no mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color), Reader has hair long enough for Marcus to brush away from face, Marcus is super thoughtful and thorough when planning for sexy times

Words: ~4.5k

Author's Notes: A huge thank you again to @kilamonster for being my wonderful beta, talking me through my fear of posting dirty talk, and letting me bounce random porny ideas off her. <3

Again, there’s no specific time/setting, I just really wanted to get both Javi and Marcus together in the same story. In my mind, Javi is post-s3 of Narcos, and Marcus is somewhere around/after s7ep1 of The Mentalist.

I learned basically everything I know about the court system from true crime TV and podcasts, so the legalese here is purposefully vague. I have no idea what it would take to prosecute a federal case, lol. However, I did find some interesting information while researching art fraud/money laundering! I’m happy to share links to my sources if anybody is interested.

Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

Later that night, you sit cross-legged on your bed, the various photos and documents from Peña spread out around you. You can see why he was so adamant about Customs involvement – there was enough circumstantial evidence in front of you for some lower-level courts to convict. Peña doesn’t strike you as the type to take chances though, not at this point in his career. If he’s making an arrest, he wants a case airtight, no room for technicalities or sympathetic juries. He’ll have worked with enough federal prosecutors to know what he needs to put bastards away and keep them there.

You think back to your conversation with Peña for what must be the twelfth time since that afternoon. It’s still difficult to reconcile the reputation with the man. Javier Peña, the senior DEA agent, was by reputation a force of nature; women and men alike wanted him and wanted to be him. He is unapologetically brash, arrogant, and always gets his way. If he believes something is worth getting, he’ll do whatever it takes, even if he has to use less than savory channels. 

Javier Peña, the man, is intense, focused, driven, and has some of the saddest, most beautiful, big brown eyes you’d ever seen. He has a level of self-awareness you hadn’t expected. He struggles with asking for help, even if he can recognize his own limitations. 

With a sigh, you take the wire transcript in hand and lean back against the pillows propped up against the headboard. The conversation had thankfully already been translated from Spanish with the original attached for reference. You had basic Spanish under your belt from high school and learned some choice slang from friends and exes, but you didn’t know nearly enough to comprehend the entire conversation on paper in front of you. 

The men were discussing various works of art and their estimated values at auction and on the black market. One of the men, Castano, was insisting he could simply forge a copy of a famous painting since it was “just a bunch of splattered paint” that “didn’t look like anything anyway.” You chuckled to yourself. 

You used to think the same thing about the abstract expressionism paintings you’d seen until somebody actually took the time to explain the meaning behind the movement. Agent Marcus Pike knew a lot about art – it was his job, after all, as head of the FBI’s art crimes unit in D.C. You worked closely with Pike and his squad to close a major case before you put in for the transfer to Texas. The two of you had spent a lot of time together and grown close, developing a mutual professional respect before things had ever gotten personal. 

Your thoughts travel back to the last time Pike taught you something about art. It’s a bittersweet thought, since that was also your last night in D.C., and the last time you saw him. You’d come so close to saying more than you were ready to admit, and certainly more than you were ready to hear in return. 

With a sigh, you drop the transcript on the bed and fall back onto your pillows. That last night in D.C. was also the last time you experienced an orgasm you didn’t give yourself. More than one, actually. 

Your mind floods with images and sensations from that night and, rather unconsciously, your hands begin to retrace the parts of your body Marcus had touched. Fingertips ghost over the crook of your neck and across your collarbone to the collar of your worn t-shirt. Marcus’ t-shirt, actually. You’d stolen it unapologetically when he’d forgotten it at your place and told him it looked better on you anyway. Marcus had agreed, and then shown just how much better he liked it on you.

While your one hand is occupied at your breast, the other busies itself at the waistband of your panties. Eyes closed, you slide a finger over your dampening slit, remembering the path Marcus’ tongue traveled as your breath hitches. God, that man could use his mouth. And he loved to use it on you. You let the memory of that night wash over you…

Washington, D.C. 6 months ago

“There is one thing I need right now.” You feel a bit giddy at your recklessness, but any nerves you might have are quelled when Marcus runs the tip of his nose up your jawline to your ear. 

“And what’s that? Hm?” He inhales your scent and hums with pleasure. Before you can stop yourself, you shift the hand at Marcus’ hip to his crotch. When you feel how hard he already is you release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

Marcus inhales sharply through his nose at your touch, then lets out a groan in your ear at your gentle squeeze. “Tell me what you need.” His five o’clock shadow rasps against your sensitive skin as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth. 

“I need you to show me that evidence locker you haven’t shut up about since we met.” 

~~~

Pike stands behind you in the elevator in case you happen upon anybody else working late at the office. The odds are low, except for the contracted private security officers, but you didn’t think they’d want to see Pike’s hardon either. He’s so close, he’s almost pressed against your back while caressing a palm over your ass. You try to keep a straight face, but are practically panting through parted lips.

“You’ve been wanting this for a long time, haven’t you?” Marcus asks, his voice low in your ear as he leans over to push the button for the correct floor. His tone is almost conversational, but you can feel the thread of excitement pulling taut between your bodies. He’d been teasing you with the idea of fucking you in the art squad’s evidence locker for months now, going into great detail about what he was going to do to you – you only had to ask. 

You nod silently in response as the elevator doors close, and Pike grips your waist, grinding his erection into your lower back. “Yes,” your breath huffs out. He likes you to use your words, and strokes your arm with an approving hum. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” Your nipples harden at his words and your breath comes out shakily. 

Marcus was the first person you’d ever been with to call you a good girl. You never thought you’d be into the kind of gentle dominance and steady stream of praise Marcus employed with you, but it made all the right synapses fire in your brain and took the experience to an entirely different level. 

You nod again, playing the game, knowing what he wants to hear.

Marcus’ hand splays across your lower belly, the other sweeping gently across your throat and brushing your hair away from your face. He’s pressing into you, the energy coming off him in waves, leaving you feeling heady. 

“Say it for me.” It’s spoken softly, coaxing, but still an unmistakable command. 

“I’ll be a good girl for you.” Your voice has the slightest waver, but ends strong.

Marcus’ hand on your belly inches lower and heat radiates between your thighs. “I know you will.”

The doors of the elevator open with a ding that makes you jump, and Marcus moves back with a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Gently, he guides you with a hand between your shoulder blades. You’re on one of the underground levels, where the low ceilings and fluorescent lights are stark reminders that you’re both still in a government building and cameras are watching your every move. 

A security guard rounds a corner and Marcus clears his throat, then moves to button his suit jacket, presumably to hide his erection. How he manages to walk with that thing when it’s hard, you’ll never know. 

The guard waves amiably. “Good evening, Agent Pike. What’re you still doing here so late?” Of course Pike knows the guard; probably knows his kids’ names too. 

“Just had something to finish off first.” Biting your tongue to keep from laughing, the two of you pass the guard. “Oh yeah, tell Rosie good luck at her big match this weekend.” You nearly snort. The men share a brief handshake and you and Marcus round the corner, the door to the evidence lockup just ahead.

The two of you share a heated look and Marcus smirks. He swipes his badge and the door unlocks with a small snick. You’re guided inside a dark room that could be the size of a storage closet for all you can see. Marcus flips one of the light switches, and sturdy floor-to-ceiling shelving units are illuminated on either side, hedging you in like a maze. So far, it looks like any other evidence room, except with mood lighting.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” you mutter, and Marcus chuckles. As he leads you along the shelves towards some unknown destination, long shadows from the meager overhead light throw the long rows and corners into darkness.

He takes your hand and explains, “The lighting, temperature, and humidity are all controlled by a central system. Same kind as in the National Gallery.” You nod, genuinely impressed. 

“You don’t keep all your evidence here, right?” The room was large, but most of the shelving space was taken up by various sized crates and archival boxes. Marcus shakes his head.

“Just the very valuable pieces that need to be kept under special conditions. Any other evidence is kept in a regular lockup.” Marcus stops and you come up short, nearly colliding with his broad back. “Oh,” you breathe, peering around him and knowing this is what he wanted to show you.

The maze of shelving units opens up onto what looks like a miniature museum exhibit. Paintings are hung on the walls or staged on easels and covered with drop cloths. Sculptures are on pedestals in glass cases along one wall, and to your right are a few chairs next to an expansive table. 

Marcus approaches the paintings and proceeds to carefully remove the drop cloths from each work of art. They vary in style, color, expression, and movement. Some of them are encased in elaborate frames, while others are plain, or bare. Now this is what you’d hoped for after all these months hearing Marcus speak of this place in near reverent tones. This evidence lockup could rival most well-funded galleries and museums. 

“Are these all forgeries?” You take a step closer to the nearest painting and inspect it – for what, you’re not sure. “Stolen?” 

“A bit of both.” Marcus sidles up behind you. Your voices remain hushed, private, intimate.

Hands casually in his pockets, he takes you on a tour of the evidence on display, telling you a bit about each piece – what made the art valuable enough to forge or steal, and a few particulars about each case. He is in his element here, the picture of quiet confidence. Passion laces his every word and brings a spark to his eyes that you’d only seen a few times before when you were about to crack a case.

You have never felt more attracted to him.

Coming up to the last painting, you cock your head to the side and give it a quizzical stare. It’s abstract, composed of a muted yet warm palette. The paint is blended with no discernable lines or shapes.

“What is it?” you ask, looking up in time to see Marcus’ dimple appear next to his gentle smile. 

“What do you see?” Marcus steps behind you again, and runs the tips of his fingers up and down your arms.

“I… I’m not sure. What am I supposed to see?” The texture of the paint is layered in some spaces, and there’s almost an ethereal glow emanating from its contrast of light and dark. You feel a bit embarrassed and uncultured. Maybe if you squint or let your vision blur, like it’s one of those magic eye puzzles that give you headaches.

“What I love about abstract art is that there’s no right or wrong answer. I hated it until we studied it in school. I always thought I was missing something, and got frustrated that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.” 

You let out a soft hmm of agreement, but are distracted by Marcus’ voice, hot on your ear, lips close enough to graze the sensitive shell. “It was this quote by an artist, Arshile Gorky, that helped me appreciate it more. To paraphrase, abstraction frees the mind and allows it to explore the unknown. Whatever you see is what you’re meant to see.”

You let your mind rest on his words, buzzing from the energy between you. With a smirk, you say, “I bet you got laid a lot in school.” 

Marcus gives a surprised chuckle. “I did alright,” he admits, and you hear the grin in his voice.

Turning to face him, you run your hands up his chest and under the lapels of his jacket to his shoulders. Marcus sighs, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. That spark in his eye is trained on you now, his pupils blown while they skate over your face under hooded lids. 

“What’s next on the tour?” Your voice comes out a bit hoarse, his gaze almost overwhelming in its intensity. 

Marcus smiles, somewhat mischievously. “Just one more thing. C’mon,” he takes your hand and starts leading you to the large table and chairs. “I think you’re going to like this part.” 

Leaving you at the edge of the table, Marcus goes to one of the nearby shelves and pulls out a large cardboard envelope from a box, nearly the size of one of the paintings. With the flip of a switch, the entire surface of the table illuminates, humming gently from the internal fan. He pulls out what looks to be a sheet of dark plastic film and lays it on top of the table, revealing an x-ray image.

Marcus’ face is like a kid’s on Christmas morning. “This is an x-ray of that painting over here,” he points to the abstract work you’d been standing at a moment before. The x-ray on the table is a ghostly, black-and-white rendering of the muted swaths of paint. “And here,” he lays a second image down on the table, “is another x-ray taken of the same painting at different settings.” 

You nearly gasp. It’s virtually a different image entirely. The abstract painting has been reduced to a haze, overlaying a distinct pastoral landscape. Leaning over the table for a closer look, you feel a pleasantly warm glow on your face from the lit surface. “What the…” Your eyes snap back to Marcus’ face, which is lit up with what you can only describe as glee. 

“So you like it?” His eyes are sparkling and that dimple you love so much has reappeared. “‘Like it?’” You scoff. “I love it, Marcus, this is incredible. But…” you gesture at the images, “What exactly does that mean in terms of evidence?” Marcus comes around to your side of the table.

“The first one is a radiographic image of that painting we looked at, which could have told us if there were any traces of minerals or other elements within the paint used. Modern paint pigments are synthetic,” Marcus pulls the first image closer and gestures to the different shades of gray. “But–” he slides the second image next to the first, with its outlines of rolling hills and fluffy clouds, “Historically, heavy metals were frequently used, like lead and cobalt.” 

Nodding along with the lesson, you put two and two together. “So the heavy metals in old paint would show through on an x-ray, even if somebody has painted over it.” Marcus is beaming at you, clearly happy that you made the connection. 

“Exactly. And then the synthetic paint could be removed later.” Turning to face you, he rests a hip on the edge of the table. The surface light casts dramatic shadows across the contours of his jaw and nose. You mirror his body language and reach out to poke him playfully in the chest. 

“No fair; the FBI gets all the fun toys.” The cool satin of his tie slips deftly between your fingers, and you give it a gentle tug. His gaze is alert and hungry as he takes a step closer, and you can feel your body responding to his proximity once again. Marcus trails a finger across your clavicle that sends a chill down your spine and tingles straight to your nipples. 

“Yeah, but if you ask nicely, maybe I’ll share.” Threading his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull, he pulls gently but purposefully until your head tilts back and you’re forced to meet his eyes. A shuddering breath escapes your parted lips. Marcus leans in and grazes his lips against yours, barely a whisper of a kiss. His tongue traces the sensitive inner edge of your top lip and you nearly let out a whimper.

“Go on, then. Ask me.” He nips at your bottom lip. “Nicely.”

“Please,” you breathe. Marcus’ arm encircles your waist, while the hand in your hair grips a bit tighter. He uses a tight hold on your ass to grind you against the firm thigh he places between your own. Your hands grasp desperately onto his shoulders as your knees feel like they’re about to buckle from the delicious pressure. 

“‘Please’ what?” Marcus prompts gently. You’re pressing back against his thigh now, too lost in the sensation to respond. He withdraws it suddenly and you’re left clenching, all too aware of how badly you need that pressure back. 

“‘Please’ what?” He repeats, more firmly this time. 

“Please, Sir.” You correct yourself quickly, and are rewarded with Marcus’ lips against yours and the blessed return of his thigh. He’s a man possessed, and you whimper into his mouth as his tongue licks inside. The next thing you know, he’s got you sandwiched between the table and his thigh now, your skirt hiked up, juices leaking through your panties as you ride the firm muscles of his leg. 

“Look at you, just beautiful. You’re so hot like this, I love seeing you lose yourself. Does that feel good? Hm?” Marcus presses his hard cock into your hip and groans. “Jesus, I can feel how fucking wet you are through my pants. Are you going to leave your pussy juices on me, so anybody we walk past can see what a good girl you are for me?” 

Your eyes are squeezed shut tight, arms gripping to Marcus for dear life as you continue rutting against him, breath becoming ragged. The friction and pressure are almost too much, you’ll practically give yourself rug burn at this rate. But the onslaught of Marcus’ filthy praise in your ear, his hot, steamy breath against your neck, his tongue on your pulse point – you’re already careening out of control and he knows it.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” Nodding, wordless, you scramble to hold onto him as Marcus scoops up one of your thighs and hooks it over his hip with a grunt. “Then you better ask first.” 

“P-please,” you gasp out, “Please, Sir. Please can I cum?” You’re on the precipice, Marcus’ cock almost painfully hard in your hip. 

You gasp when he pulls his thigh away, eyes flying open in shock. “Not yet, sweet girl, hold on for me just a little bit longer. You’re going to cum on my tongue first.” Before you have a chance to protest, Marcus hoists you up fully onto the edge of the light table and pulls up a chair to feast on you. 

You’re immediately aware of the warmth the lit surface of the table infuses into every part of your body it’s touching. The table itself feels sturdy and solid beneath you, but you can’t fight an initial moment of panic. “Um, Marcus…I don’t know if–” It’s a struggle to concentrate as Marcus noses at your clothed pussy. A gentle double tap to the crown of his head is all the signal he needs to check in.

“You okay? Do you want to stop?” Marcus’ face is flushed, but his eyes are clear and laser focused on you. 

“Is this, uh…safe?” You rap gently on the table with a forced air of nonchalance. 

Marcus smiles and strokes the outside of your hip and thigh with his hand. “Totally safe. I triple-checked the specs and tested it out already.” 

You lift an amused eyebrow at that. “Tested it out?”

Marcus’ eyes go round at the implication, his dominant persona dropped. “Not like that! I mean I stacked a shitload of evidence boxes on it and did a– well, ah– a simulation, I guess you could call it.” His self-effacing chuckle is endearing.  He always knows how to make you feel safe and secure during your more adventurous times together. You smile and stroke his hair as he rubs his cheek against your inner thigh, the rasp of his five o’clock shadow sending shockwaves to your pussy.

“I’m very interested in finding out more about this simulation…Sir.” His honorific on your lips is your signal that you’re ready to continue and his grin turns wolfish. With a playful, smacking kiss to the tender flesh of your inner thigh, Marcus slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Bracing your calves on his broad shoulders, you lift your ass a little to help Marcus slide the panties the rest of the way off. 

“Open up for me, sweetheart.” Gently, he applies pressure to your knees until you’re completely spread out before him. You might be a little embarrassed being on display if you didn’t know how much he loved you like this: open, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy. The expression on Marcus’ face is practically one of reverence. 

“This is exactly why I wanted to bring you here,” Marcus places open-mouthed kisses up your thighs, sucking and nibbling his way to your center. It’s difficult not to squirm, he’s got you feeling antsy and impatient. “I wanted to see you lit up and on exhibit for me, like the work of art you are.”

You must be quite a sight to behold with the bright light of the table shining from beneath you. To drive his point home, Marcus dips his tongue to your core and collects your gathering slick on his tongue, spreading it and his saliva up to your clit in a broad swipe. Riding his thigh earlier has left you swollen and sensitive; your back arches off the table and you gasp at the sudden contact. 

Marcus holds you open with one hand so his tongue can more freely explore the full length of your slit, while the other alternates between massaging your breasts and rolling a peaked nipple through your blouse. Desperate for more, you unbutton your top enough to pull the cups of your bra down and leave yourself exposed to Marcus’ roaming fingers. 

Your whimpers and shuddering breaths combine with the sounds of Marcus lapping at your seeping cunt. His nose bumps against your engorged clit and you gasp, hips spasming. The hand on your breast disappears, and a finger gently nudges your entrance. 

“I’m going to get you ready for my cock, baby. Are you ready?” You nod wordlessly, and Marcus eases a digit inside you, watching your expression. “Oh, pretty girl, you’re so good, so wet. So tight, fuck.” 

Marcus laves his tongue over your clit and you clench around his finger. “Mmm, you’re going to take me so good, aren’t you?” Soon, he adds a second, working it rhythmically in and out, sucking and flicking his tongue against your clit until you’re panting.

The wet noises made by Marcus’ fingers inside you are practically obscene. When he crooks them at just the right spot, you lose all sense and writhe against him. You can hear a question in his inflection, but the twist and pull of his fingers are distracting, to say the least. He’s leaning over you now, the heel of his palm applying pressure over your clit to replace his mouth. 

“You’re doing so well, I know you can do it. You just need to ask me first.” His fingers inside you are relentless, and you can feel the pressure building inside, pulling taut like a rubber band about to snap. Marcus can tell how close you are and stops with his two fingers buried deep inside and applies his other hand to each side of your neck with just enough pressure to get your attention.

“C’mon, sweetheart, focus for me, otherwise I’ll have to stop.” His fingers are barely moving inside of you, just enough to keep you right on the edge. “You know what to do.”

A sob practically escapes your throat. “Please, Sir. I need to cum. Please can I? I want to be good for you.” It’s impossible to keep the pleading from your tone, you’re so close. Your hips are gyrating of their own accord, feebly fucking yourself on his fingers.

Marcus moves his hand off your throat to cup the side of your face and tangle his fingers in your hair. “Mm, do it. Be my good girl and cum.” Marcus leans down for a final taste where you’re stretched around his curling fingers, then settles his lips around your clit. With a cry, you break and see stars behind your eyelids as your orgasm crashes over you.

“Fuck yes, that’s my good girl. So beautiful like this, so perfect. I can feel you dripping into my hand, baby, you’re so wet. Did that feel good? Is that what you needed?” Marcus praises you through it all, stroking your neck, your breasts, peppering kisses over your mound and belly. His fingers retreat, leaving you fluttering in aftershocks, and you watch him lick your cum from his palm and fingers.

“Thank you for being such a good girl for me, sweetheart. I had to taste you at least one more time before you leave...” Reality falls over the room like a weighted blanket, and you let your engaged muscles go slack against the lit surface of the table, suddenly harsh and blinding. You feel exposed instead of exhibited and you squeeze your thighs together as the final flutters of your orgasm subside.

“Hey, come back to me,” you hear Marcus murmur, and feel him turn your face to meet his. He kisses you slowly and deeply, and you taste your tang on his plump bottom lip. He presses his forehead against yours and you share a couple of breaths. 

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Additional Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! There is plenty more to come (had to). I'd love to know what you thought -- any and all feedback is welcome! I just want to become a better writer. :)

Chapter 3 || SeñoraBond's Masterlist

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Twenty}

Alastor x (Fem)Reader

I found myself tagging along for Alastor's radio broadcasts more often since that day. I never thought I'd think this, but, listening to them made me less stressed. I would tend to listen to podcasts when I was alive, either for background noise or just for a laugh.

Though Alastor's broadcasts weren't always humorous, they could be nice to listen in on. When, they weren't violent that is. But I never joined when it was time for that anyway. Alastor had told me how foolish it was for everyone to rot their brains with the thousands of TV's, all ran by VoxTech, instead of listening to the radio. 

I can't speak for everyone else, and honestly I'd be a hypocrite if I agreed with him. While I was alive, I was drawn in my TV and all sorts of tech. But, I could understand his frustrations.

He works hard, he's passionate about it, and little to no one seems to actually care. Alastor seemed stuck in the old days, and was content with it. And there wasn't anything wrong with that, especially since he didn't come off as ignorant to current events and problems or bigoted. He couldn't be. 

The world was changing, and so was Hell, there was nothing he could do about that. And he knows it. But, he kept his love for his time, for the good more than the bad, and that involved the radio show he loved doing so much.

I could tell, he found relief and comfort in it. Yes, even when he was mutilating demons...

But for the radio on it's own, there was a real love  and deep passion for it. I understood him, to a certain extent. To be passionate about something, and having it ignored because it didn't vibe well with everyone else. Who was I to ignore him? So, I guess that's why I was more convinced to stay and listen with him. 

I lean back, a gentle smile on my face as I listen to him speak and even quietly laugh whenever he'd crack a lame dad joke. 

Today, he had been playing some oldies, but goodies, and I even recognized one of them. 

Blue moon You saw me standin' alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own

Blue moon You knew just what I was there for You heard me sayin' a prayer for Someone I could really care for

My smile grew slightly as I sway to the melody. Alastor noticed and joined me by my side. "I didn't know you liked this kind of music." He said to me. "I like all sorts of music." I tell him. "Even this kind. This is Blue Moon? Dean Martin's version, right?" I ask. "That's right, my dear!" Alastor nods. I hum and listen along. 

Suddenly, Alastor offered his hand to me, I stare at it for second. "Care for a dance?" He asks me. "Oh, uh...I-I can't dance. Really." I say timidly. "I'd step all over your feet." Alastor chuckles. "Then, let me lead." I thought about it for a moment before giving in with a sigh.

I take his hand. "I warned you. Don't get mad if I crush your toes." Alastor brings me to a stand, and places his free hand on my side. He removes his other from my hand, to guide my other to his shoulder, before taking it again. 

And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will hold I heard somebody whisper, "Please adore me" And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold

Blue moon Now, I'm no longer alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own

"Ready?" He asks. I nod, feeling my face heat up. I felt my heart pick up as he began to move, guiding me along. I really hope my hands weren't as sweating as I thought they were...

I kept my eyes anywhere but onto his own, my mind was racing and my heart pounding. It was then I heard him speak. "You're tense." I sigh. "Well...I haven't danced like this with anyone in...a long time."

Alastor hums, before turning me and pulling me close again. I failed to stifle a gasp as he did so. "You're not doing as bad as I thought you would." He tells me. "T-Thanks?" I mutter. 

"You know, it's not very polite to not look at your dancing partner." I slowly turn my gaze up at him. 

And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will ever hold I heard somebody whisper, "Please adore me" And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold

Huh...You know...When he wasn't wearing that shit eating grin of his, he was actually...pretty handsome. 

I mentally slapped myself for thinking that. What the hell? This guy is a monster in every since of the word. A demon. I'm not suppose to find him handsome at all. 

And yet...The way he looked now, the way he held me. He's being so gentle, for a monster...Maybe, that was too harsh. Not a monster, but no saint either. I suppose, he could have killed me at anytime, and he's kept me alive this long.

He's even allowing this much. For someone who hates touch, he's being awfully touchy now. 

Is this because we tolerate each other now? But even tolerance shouldn't have gone this far. So what is it?

"What's on your mind?" Alastor's voice snapped me out of thought. "Huh? Oh uh...just thinking..." 

"About?" He presses. "Are you always this comfortable around women?" I ask. Alastor had always had a softer side for women, more than anyone else. He was more forgiving. "Depends. I don't go dancing with just any women, if that's what you mean. Rosie is a good dance partner, Mimzy as well." 

"I mostly mean touching." I clarify. "Ah, I see. Not really, no. I'm sure you've noticed my feelings about being touched." He tells me. "Then...Why are you letting me?" I ask. "Simple, my dear..." Alastor starts. 

Blue moon Now, I'm no longer alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own

He dips me, my hold on him tightens instinctively. Without breaking eye contact, he answers. 

"I allow it, because I trust you enough not to try anything." 

Trust? He trusts me? He brings me back up to a stand, I stare up at him for a moment. A small smile finds it way onto my face. "Thank you. I feel the same about you, Alastor."

It was true. All this time, he could have killed me, but he could have hurt me just as easily. And he hasn't. He won't.  And for once...I am certain of that. 

Alastor smiled softly at my words. "My, I better not break that trust then." I squeeze his hand gently. "Damn right, you better not." He chuckles. "As much as I'd like to continue with this, I have a broadcast to wrap up." I nod, though, I felt a little sad. Which was surprising.

Who knew I'd be upset about having to stop dancing with a demon? He held onto me a second longer before finally parting. 

"Until next time." He says, as he walks to the mic. My smile grows. 'Until next time.' I confirm in my head. 

I hum the same song from before as I make my way back to my room. My mind was still running wild, the dance me and Alastor shared had my hear fluttering. I knew I looked dumb, smiling like I was, but I just couldn't help it. 

"Y/n?" 

I heard Angel's voice from behind me, I stopped humming and turned to face him, still smiling. "Yeah?" I ask. "You seem awfully happy." He says, walking towards me. "What happened?" He asks. "Uh...Well me and Alastor-"

"He let ya hit it!?" 

"No!" 

"Augh! Why not!? Ya'll taking forever!" Angel groaned. "Like I was saying." I say with crossed arms. "Me and him danced. It was really nice."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Ok. So, ya'll are just doing the world's longest foreplay then?" 

"Angel." I say with a warning tone. "Shit Y/n, I'm just saying." Angel shrugs. "Angel, you just had to be there. He was so gentle and...I really felt like we got closer." I say with a smile.

Angel smirks. "You like him~" He sang. My face heated up. "I do not! I mean, yeah, I like him...But I don't like him, you know!?"

"Girl, you're smittin'." 

"Angeeeel..." I groan. "Come on, I know love when I see it. And you are falling hard." Angel tells me. I couldn't be. That was just a dance between two...friends, I guess is what we are now. It meant nothing. But, it felt so wonderful...

"Come on, let's go to my room and talk." Angel says as he walks ahead. I follow after him, silently hoping what I thought was happening, was not happening...

[catladyoftheyr]

»•» 🌸 «•« »•» 🌸 «•« »•» 🌸 «•«

❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀ 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞 / 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀

✿ Call me Honey or Britt 🍯

✿ Sapphic ⚢

✿ 26, Minors beware, DNI with posts labeled 18+

✿ Things I like ✿

✿ Movies and Tv

✿ Twilight, 90s/2000s Rom Coms, Musicals, Ghibli

✿ Parks and Recreation, Cartoons, Adult Animation, Grey’s Anatomy, Anime, Competition Reality tv, Cooking/ Baking Competitions

✿ Video games

✿ Zelda (botw & totk)

✿ Sims 4

✿ ACNH (inactive)

✿ Stardew Valley (Switch)

✿ Planet Zoo/Coaster

✿ Pokémon (SV & SWSH currently)

✿ Music & Podcasts

✿ Taylor Swift, Halsey, Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan

✿ Early 2000s Country

✿ Hip Hop/ Rap/ RnB

✿ Divorced Dad Rock (Nickelback energy)

✿ True Crime Podcasts

✿ Frequent Tags

✿ #My Writing: fanfiction

✿ #My Face: Selfies

✿ #Personal?: random thoughts, usually about my life

✿ #Me Energy: things that remind me of myself

✿ Fandom Tags: #Zelda, #Pokemon, #Dunmeshi, #Stardew, etc

»•» 🌸 «•« »•» 🌸 «•« »•» 🌸 «•«

*＊✿❀ Writing Things ❀✿＊*

✿ Stardew Valley

✿ Too Sweet : Harvey x GN reader, slowish burn fluff friends to lovers

✿ It’s All Coming Back to Me Now: Harvey x Fem reader: 18+ SMUT, you and Harvey are separated but you keep ending up in his bed ( or office ;)

✿ Dress: Harvey x Fem reader, 18+ SMUT, passionate intimacy on your wedding night

✿ The Alchemy: Alex x GN reader, you’re in the stands at a gridball championship game cheering Alex on, fluff

✿ Twilight

✿ Twenty Stitches in a Hospital Room: Carlisle x Fem Reader, 18+ SMUT, Carlisle stitches up your hand after an accident and then shows you what he can do with his

✿ Wish u Were Sober: Edward x Bella, 13+ pls, Bella gets dragged to a college party and runs into Edward who drives her home after she has too much to drink

✿ SpiderVerse

✿ Muscle Memory (2 parter): Miguel x Fem reader, 18+ SMUT, Miguel is an old friend with benefits, you come home for the weekend and hookup in the parking lot of his bar.

✿ Ghibli

✿ Midnight Rendezvous: Howl Pendragon x Fem reader, 18+ SMUT, a romantic tryst after you can’t fall back asleep

✿ Jjk

✿ Boy Dad Gojo: headcanons and fluff about Gojo being a boy dad, implied fem reader, lightheaded and silly

✿ Girl Dad Kento: fluffy headcanons about Kento being a girl dad, silly and fun

[pendantaudio]

Tilly's Trans Tuesdays episode 84: More "I Saw the TV Glow" in Tillyvision, because we're not done yet! This week our fear is in the driver's seat and we cut off access to our transness, but we still can't help but seek that which eludes us. Lilah Sturges returns to discuss gifts of intimacy and how we drive the cars we have! Who wants to see goofy and mildly embarrassing photos of me? I did it for YOU!

Hosted by Tilly Bridges and Susan Bridges. Sound mixing by Jillian Morgan. Available on Apple Podcasts, iHeartRadio, Amazon Music, Samsung Podcasts, and more!

[magpod-confessions]

i think tmagp is interesting and i understand WHY people like it but personaly i think i'm going to have to drop it. the character writing feels 2d and i just can't get attached to any of the characters. i do like Gwen (probably because she's actually out there Doing Stuff), and i REALLY liked early-season Alice when she was being an annoying (said with love) coworker who clearly knew more than she let on. her initial Alice-POVs were incredibly compelling, but the more the season goes on the more she seems to be relegated to 'sam's ex' which is just...sad (also, why are they taking their ONE canonical transfem character and making her the jealous ex? hello? can anyone else hear me?). my other issues are:

everyone says this but AUDIO. i listen to a huge variety of podcasts, music, tv, movies that have intense audio distortion and can understand them fine but i just cannot follow what they're saying in tmagp. the SFX are too loud in comparison to the voice settings and it means i have to follow along with transcripts which is not something i really want to do. that's a preference but yeah.

also everyone says this but EPISODE FORMAT!!! i love all different styles of podcast storytelling and listen to a variety of horror fiction that does storytelling in different ways (standouts for me being woe.begone, malevolent, the silt verses, welcome to night vale, camp here&there, etc). but the office chatter + 5min statement + tangential plotline + random other cuts just feels clunky to me, like clicking through a bunch of tabs and trying to read through them at random. i think there's a lot of potential with how tmagp is trying to tell it's story (almost like found footage?) but it doesn't feel like it's been sewn together properly...i keep loosing the threads of the plot

the whole "alice is sam's jealous ex" coworker drama thing. I just can't get over it. you have alice and celia literally mirroring each other in terms of their relationship with sam. this is interesting. this could be cool. it works in celia's case, because she CLEARLY has other motivations and plot conflicts outside of being sam's partner. alice USED to seem like she had more going on, but recently...idk. it seems like they're pushing her character more and more into the background (what happened with everything going on with her brother? and her own facade of trying to cover things up? what about her personal life?) which i don't love given that she's the shows only canon transfem rep. why is it ALICE specifically who is being utilized in the plot in this way (to define her character by her status as "sam's ex", when no other fem characters seem to be defined by their relationships with men)?

i do think i'll come back to tmagp once it's further along to see if any of my issues with is have been resolved. again, tma took a very long time to really get into the plot. i don't MIND having a chaotic plot (in fact, it's one thing i think will turn out to be incredibly interesting later down the line). but to me, i just can't invest myself in the characters/relationships (which is what the show is building it's plot on), the audio mixing is unintelligible to me, and the episode format feels unbalanced. i'm gonna stay up to date with how people are talking about it online but i just wish it was starting stronger, because there is SO much potential in the series!!

.

[raptorix]

Okay, been taking my time getting through Veilguard, I just recently redid my entertainment setup in my room so I can play my PS5 in there, and then I also wanted to get caught up in FFXIV's 7.1 patch MSQ.

I basically got everyone recruited now!!

Early spoiler thoughts

Okay so I originally designed my Mercar Rook to be a Sports Butch She/They. Very excited that Erika Ishii is one of the fem Rook voices.

TV photo because IDK how to get screenshots off my PS5 yet.

Romance pick for first run: Lace Harding, because I thought she was sweet in Inquisition, love her voice actress, and I love her whole vibe in general. Also we finally get to romance a Dwarf character.

I see the appeal of Lucanis, but he's like a beautiful cat to me. I just wanna admire & pet him. I'm worried that Davrin is gonna suffer the fandom neglect like Wyll did. He's a great character, and seems like one of those rough types with a heart of gold that's probably worth earning. Also, like Scratch, I will pet Assan every time I pass by him in the Lighthouse. :3 Emmrich is a sweet and darling old man, and my first Rook is a Mage who is chill with Necromancy and thinks Manfred is a delight.

As for the Ladies, I kinda went over Harding. In-lore, Rook has been working with Varric and Harding for a period of time prior to this whole mess, so the previous familiarity makes romancing Harding feel easier. Neve is great.... Great design, I just wanna listen to her and admire her. I would also take up the challenge of romancing her, even though I know hers blooms late-game. But I also hear her canon pairing if not romanced is with Lucanis, and that chemistry is very exciting to watch. Bellara is a delight!!!! I wish she was my IRL friend, she is so sweet and fun!!! I'd love to romance her in a future playthrough!!! And finally, I just met Taash, and I appreciate that she's a big buff lady who has Special Interest.

The ENTIRE CAST is A++ on their designs. Amazing designs, I am mentally playing with their unique little features & trinkets they wear. Like Bellara's triangle-themed jewelry and armor?? I am mentally fidgeting with that.

The Triple Click podcast did an episode with their mid-game thoughts on Veilguard, and Kirk posed an observation and theory that I've taken on myself. Rot13 for this spoiler since I don't want anyone else going slow like me to learn this accidentally:

Gur gurbel vf gung Ineevp qvrq, ohg orpnhfr bs gur zntvp bs gur Ylevhz Qnttre naq gur angher bs gur Snqr, ur'f npghnyyl n tubfg gung bayl Ebbx pna frr naq urne. Guvf vf fhccbegrq ol ubj vs nal bs gur pbzcnavbaf oevat uvz hc, vg frrzf gb or va cnfg grafr. Naq gurl arire qverpgyl vagrenpg jvgu uvz va gur Yvtugubhfr.

I forsee this as one of those 'Replay again and again to see different origins and romances' type games. I've already seen fanart of someone's Rook who's from the Crows, and looks like The Warden & Zevran's child. I've also seen someone's Rook that looks crazy similar to Vax'ildan. XD

[aggold15hi01]

A random thought about (Gender-swapped) Lolex

Post can also be available on my own personal blog as well: https://realpaulaleah4everwrites05.blogspot.com/

Am I the only one who wanted a gender-swap Fem Lolex obviously? i mean I have been thinking about it for a long while ever since I am starting to feel as if the Lolex love is growing me and it grows on me even more just as when i did have the thought of how they truthfully reminded me of 'Heartstopper duo' (Despite how i didn't either truthfully watched the TV Series nor I did truthfully read the comic series) However after watching and listening to Krystal Oh's first episode of her podcast series 'Spill the polish' Erica as her very first guest on the podcast show as well as the 'Team Torque' series then this is where I possibly wanted to write a Fem gender-swap Lolex where they both have their own independent Podcast series where they both chatted about several different topics [just like how the original male counterpart on 'team Torque'] as well as having to share their own thoughts about a topic where they spoke about it in addition to their personal experiences as well they did experienced it along the way in their very own lives.

Anyway, that's just my own thoughts about gender-swapped Fem Lolex and also a podcast series they would do which I very much wanted to do it as a fan Fiction whenever I can properly get the chance to the writing on it properly.

[twoheartswrites]

Hi could you write a male reader hcs fic with Connor, hank, Markus etc? Where the reader is sick and they take care of him? Please and thank you❤️

You're Sick

[FTM friendly] Male reader x Hank/Markus/Connor

Fluff/Short Headcannons Detroit Become Human

Note: It's been a while but I'm back, and now i've gotta clear out all the spam bots I've got :|

DNI: She/Her users + Fem aligned readers

Connor:

Connor has seen the signs before you can even figure it out

The overworking, high temperature, lack of sleep and proper clothing for the cold weather had him worried from the start

and now you have a pretty bad cold?

Connor's led is yellow and red all the time

You coughed? Connor's on it, warming your chest up and finding anything in his records/searches on how to help you out

He'll spoil you, playing your favorite show/movie on tv, play uno with you in bed, cook you something warm, cuddle you until you fall asleep

He'll even pull you a warm bath and sit outside next to the tub while you soak in, just so the bath doesn't get cold and you don't get lonely

no boyfriend of his gets sick when he's around, he must keep you alive and well.

Even though he knows statistically you have a 99.9% chance of successfully surviving this, and he shouldn't be worried, he just is

He feels a little guilty for not having stopped you to give you a jacket or at least make sure you're not risking your health

He will buy you a get-well balloon if he goes on a little counter-medicine shopping adventure

Hank:

You woke up in the middle of the night feeling nauseous and you tapped on Hank's shoulder to warn him before scrambling to the bathroom

Hank will of course hold your hair back if your hair gets in the way, and will take out the anti-acid from the fridge, along with a cup of water

He's by your side the entire night, and once you're feeling at least a little better after puking, he'll place his hand on your stomach and try to soothe you back to sleep

by morning time you still feel like shit

but Hank woke up early to make you soup and prepare medicine

He'll be by your side the entire time

If you're a shaky person when sick, he'll hold you tightly and try to distract you from your shitty feelings

He'll put anything on for you whether it's a podcast, a show, movie, audiobook, whatever. As long as you feel comfortable throughout the 'getting better' process, it's a win in his book

Markus:

You got a fever and sore throat and Markus already knows it's bad.

He's had his fair share of experience since Carl had been sick plenty of times

He'll have an ice pack on your head and transition through two ice packs if one melts, he'll replace it and switch

He'll do constant checks on your temperature to make sure you don't reach the 100s

He comforts you verbally, saying only sweet things and praises

he'll probably get Simon to buy any needs so that he can stay by you

He's worried about you but seeing you so safe around him makes him feel good

He knows you feel cold but you need to deal with it to get better soon!

Thankfully robots don't get sick so he can hug you and kiss you all he wants

He promises by the time you're feeling better, you both can get to go on whatever date plan you want.

[fantasy-fields-danger-zone]

Hazbin Hotel bitty: Normal Alastor bitty

Normal Alastor bitty

Name: Alastor

Size: 7 - 8 inches tall(6-8 feet tall sized shifted)

Personality: Calculating, semi easily entertained, sassy,

Likes: Cat/cat like bitties, venison, meat in general, jambalaya, cooking, radios, cooking and crime(true or otherwise) shows/podcasts/radio shows,

Dislikes: Dogs/dog like bitties, not being in control, modern tech, Val bitties,

Compatibility: They always try to make a deal with their owners pretty fast, if not directly after they're adopted! They dont like feeling like they have no power, but do NOT make a deal with them until you know you can trust them fully! It's an awful idea to give an Alastor bitty power over you before you trust them-

They hate tvs! until they find out about cooking and/or crime shows- we recommend cooking shows- its better to give them ideas for the kitchen and not for the graves lol

They do NOT get along well with other Alastor types, they can manage being around certain Vox types, though it's best to keep them as separated as often to avoid to many issues if you do choose to have them in the same house, they do do better with soft or angel varients of Vox bitties though! Though as long as they dont fight for power they tend to be able to manage any bitty! But it is still best to get the Alastor bitty first and let them settle in and get comfortable before trying to introduce another bitty they may butt heads with

At the center they tend to try to make deals with many bitties, Nifty and Husker bitties are usually the ones they drag with them as they refuse to leave any bitties they made a deal with, though they have been found making deals with every bitty type from an Adam to a Vox to plenty of non-Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss bitties!

After they trust and grow fond of their owner they will become nothing but a gentleman to them! Though it will make them want to make a deal with them more if they havent already because they want to be the man of the house!(no they dont care if their owner is also a man)

They have a preference for being around women as they tend to find men 'brutish', though luckily the soul bond means you dont have to worry about not getting along with them! On the other hand they dont like being in a house with no women and they tend to get along faster with fem presenting bitties,

They can summon their radios and mics, though they can only have one mic at a time, and they only let those they trust the most touch it, so if you are allowed to touch their mic without them biting, stabbing, or hurting you in general, then congrats! they trust you! we do not recommend using this as a way to test if they trust you.

They hate being touched without consent, especially by people they dont know, god forbid if they dont like them-

Although most Alastor types can also teleport, this isn't a reliable form of transportation due to the energy it takes,

Alastors are finicky and picky when it comes to most modern things, but will adjust if they absolutely have to

Alastor bitties have a hard time getting attached to anyone or anything, going into full denial mode if they ever catch themselves doing so, so if you ever cant find your Alastor bitty, they're probably hiding away, while this isnt always the reason they'll hide it very well could be! As they will try to convince themselves that the attachment they are forming isnt worth it in some way or try to convince themselves that they can use it to get to whoever they are becoming attached to,

Alastors hate hate hate not being in control at any given moment, they always feel the need to be one step ahead of everyone, even if they don't actually have anything against him he won't believe that probably-

While they are commonly on the aro/ace spectrum, i'd like to remind you that they are bitties and not all of them will be aro/ace or sex repulsed(though they will not like it being spoken about openly, dont be crude!)

They're very compatable with Rosie bitties! They get along amazingly with their gal pals!

While he'd be protective as anything he saw as 'his', including 'friends', though he'd never call them friends, he'd call him his, tough rarely they will call someone his friend

Though you'll never know if he really does see them more as friends(unless actually called his friend) or if he does see them more like property, it's always hard to tell with them, though if it ever gets to the point he'd put himself in danger to protect someone he'd be panicked at the thought and be sent reeling from the fact he cares,

So they find it hard to make actual friends, though it's not impossible as Rosie bitties are proof of that!

He's kinda openminded, he doesnt care if you're gay or trans but he's not gonna see a trans man as the same as a cis man which kinda helps trans men, though that doesnt mean he doesnt see a trans man as a man, he just sees them as a 'better man', though he does see trans women on a similar level as cis women, he's from the 30s you get what you get with these lil deer men lol

They have a fondness for jazz and swing music, the 'latest' music he'll listen to is yet more jazz or electro swing,

They hate domestic abuse, child abuse, animal abuse, and any other kind of abuse- even if they're compatible with their owners if their owners are ok with those sorts of things all bets are off, they arent afraid to nearly die via killing their soul bond, though they will also fight someone on the streets if they suspect them of any kind of abuse, which can easily get bloody,

They can be ok around kids, they'd never hurt them, but once they're over it they're over it and will be finding someone else(luckily at least someone trustworthy enough) to watch the kid/s, it's not that he thinks he's better than them, he just gets annoyed easily and would rather teleport away than be around a screaming kid-

Alastors are also suuuuper condescending, sometimes they don't mean to be it's just their natural state lol,

Alastors will tolerate almost anything as long as it's entertaining to them, As in- watching over a child even if he isn't particularly interested in it because the child has a tendency of doing the stupidest things And he finds it funny Or even dealing with Vox types, not 24/7 though its a lot easier for him to find being around a Vox bitty entertaining if theres no Val or vel bitties around

Alastors also dislike the kind of talk Angel Dusts typically do That topic of conversation is an ick for them Some Alastor's are better than others but it's best not to push your luck Like, he'll put up with it sometimes but if its a constant(aka he cant avoid it at all) then he hates it

However Alastor's also tend to think making people upset or hurting others is very entertaining so be sure to keep your Alastor entertained in other ways so they don't resort to this adopting something entertaining to him(like a wobbly cat or wobbly bitty) can help lmfao, or any bitty/pet that does stupid things in general honestly,

Alastors with Husk's are also somewhat easier because they'll just badger Husker and he can't do shit about it lol, Same with if you have a Nifty around, they find her cute and entertaining They also tent to find Charlie bitties cute/entertaining but they rarely have deals with them, though that doesnt change much Having a Rosie around helps too but she comes with her own 'problems' lmao

if you can ever get your Alastor bitty to like a show, then that is literally the only time they wont break your damn tv when ur trying to watch it too lol,

You will need at least one or two radios in the house if you get an Alastor bitty(Luckily they do come with 4 radios in their care kits-) Or even podcasts might entertain him if you can't get a radio straight away things like true crime shows(or podcasts you can listen to o n a radio) are a fav for them lol Though be careful with that because it will give them ideas…. cooking shows entertain them too! it's the best you can do if you dont want them listening to aything that'd give them any unsavory ideas That is the only TV thing they will ever deign to watch If only to bitch about how they're not doing it right

they LOVE bad cooking shows so they can feel like they're teaching their owners/other bitties better gives them a good ego boost too,

Speaking of other bitties, you must be so so careful introducing your Alastor to new people Things can go bad so quickly Even bitties they are compatible with can become enemies if they're not introduced properly

it's best to introduce them somewhere the Alastor bitty doesnt consider theirs for starters and it's best to make sure the other bitty has a peace offering that the Alastor bitty would like and its best to make sure when the new bitty gets home that they know where not to go already, so they dont intrude on where the Alastor bitty doesnt want other bitties they dont consider theirs to be

they can already use shadow friends after 2 deals with other bitties so if they have a nifty and husker(or just 2 other bitties already) then u got a bit more mischief to worry about already lol

Also he will kill and eat bitties that piss him off if you don't have enough respect/'affection points' with him to where he wouldn't because you'd be upset

He doesnt get stage shy, he just like singing old songs/jazz songs(at the newest electro swing music) to himself, so you wont hear him sing suuper often(well, not loud enough where you can hear it well) it gotta have a jazz vibe,

any good mother dying would make him cry, so movies like Dumbo or Bambi get the waterworks going, though they hate crying but they like watching movies/shows with good mothers!

They'll fuck with tvs/other electronics like smart devices, lord forbid you have an alexa and a roomba- he'll only fuck with it long enough to make it where he can 'release the hounds' with it- and if he's not size shifted to be human sized he'll ride around the roomba- so there is that, but he'll fuck with it enough to use it as a way to get around-

Getting him something like an RC car would actually put you in his favor, with his magic he can control it like an actual car and drive around! It's actually one of the ways we 'entertain' them at the center lol, theres a bitty sized town we let them roam around in(and drive) at the center to keep them entertained(theres plenty of little areas like that at the center honestly, it's just not talked about a lot lmfao, so have a lil lore drop :])

Alastors need their own private space where even their owner won't(or can't due to being too big) come in without permission They will go batshit insane (more than usual) due to this and the fact most if not all of them want to get enough deals to be able to size shift(if not already human sized- since ima make the Bara ones like over 6 foot, tho i also like the idea of them all being small and having to work to get biiig) they want to have a whole room to themeselves, like yeah they get when they smol they cant use a lot of stuff they ask for(bed, closet, books, a radio, etc) but they have plans!!

Alastor bitties probably love cooking and baking and dislike frozen foods like, they wont fuckin eat frozen foods(unless its like frozen meat for storage or something like that)

Alastors are big planners But also simultaneously impulsive Somehow they will plan years in advance, but will do some fuckery for fun in the meantime, though, if you have made plans with your Alastor bitty, do not cancel. esp if its last minute, like, if you have an emergancy sure they can understand but if it's a 'i dont want to' YOU HAD MONTHS TO SAY YOU DIDNT WANT TO they can sometimes be a little bit of a hothead,

They also prefer being the 'top dog' of all the bitties in the house, it ties in with their wanting to always be in control. They can't be in control if there's someone more powerful than them! its another reason they want to make deals with their owners, buuut if you make him feel like he can at least teach you things, then he will put up with it,

In this same vein this is why they don't particularly get along with Lucifer bitties like, they can if they have been there awhile and the Luci bitty comes in later, since then the Lucifer bitty wont feel like they have to be in charge,

At first, do NOT try to put to many rules in place if they were house rules that everyone had to follow they'd be okay with it But yeah rules for no reason other than to limit Alastor? Nope, they will break every rule to spite you specifically

Having the Alastor for awhile(like to a point you can trust them enough to make a deal with them) is the best way to make it where they can be compatible with other bitties with exceptions but if you have an Alastor for awhile, especially if he can be trusted to have the ability to size shift(tho there are some that gain that ability despite their owner not trusting them) then the Alastor is comfortable and tends to take the role of the 'man of the house', regardless of if their owner is a man or not, Like, if he likes his owner enough he'll even cook for them!

Alastors are SO gentlemanly Like to his own detriment lol He will be less wary with girls and yk that's not exactly a good thing People are all different after all he's always kind to women to a fault, opening doors(even if it takes a lot of energy bc they cant size shift yet), cooking for them(once again even if he wears himself out) and doing house work(once again, even if it wears him out) it takes men longer to get to that point, but they literally have to be compatible to form a soul bond and you cant adopt a soul bond bitty without forming the bond!

Alastors may get perturbed if you don't have an escorts when you go out depending on their level of gentlemanliness Especially as they get bigger and can be your escort, good luck escaping him which usually, by that time he's 'chilled out' and is protective over you enough that the main thing you have to worry about is the fact he wont let people he doesnt like the vibes of near you and will try to do things for you(like if he doesnt like the vibes of the cashier he'll check out and let you go out to the car or somethin lol)

Luckily with their soul bonds they already see their owner as theirs, so they tend to prefer their owners over anyone else regardless of if they're fully comfortable with them, they already know they get along so they're more confident being around them, This also means regardless of gender they'll be as much of a gentleman to their owner as any random woman,

Feeding habits: They have, odd tastes, to say the least, they prefer raw meat, and prefer to kill whatever they're eating even more so, though if they like someone they will go through the effort of cooking, but they usually never give it to them directly unless they're comfortable doing so,

They are omnivorous with a preference for meat,

Additional info: They can size shift! but only after having enough deals made or after they make a deal with their owner, as well as the ability to use magic in general! The more deals the stronger their magic is,

They soul bond to their owners, so you'll always know if you're compatible with them as they come to you! A soul bond is a two way bond, while a deal is a one way bond(giving the bitty power over you, which is good if you trust them! not so much if you dont-)

Zone: Inside,

In Universe: They are seen as strange and taboo, but many do like them due to how much a gentleman they are,

Difficulty: Advanced - Expert

Features: Alastor from the show

(this is super ooc just so ya know but still! If you see anyone with an Alastor bitty that isnt aro/ace dont come for their fuckin kneecaps guys they're bitties they're made to be funnnnnn)