#i don’t know how much of me is gonna be left IF I KEEP DOING THIS SHIT

[stardust-thief]

look after you

an: this my first x reader fic LMAOO, i needed to write smth and this spencer was on my brain :// i am in the middle of a rly long donna fic but i cba this was much easier. also i absolutley have not proof read this sorry

synopsis: you get hurt while hunting down an unsub, after some reluctance (and kind words from papa rossi) you let spencer take care of you, 1.7k words

cw: descriptions of violence, panic attack, spencer swears and can drive (the most un-canon thing abt him) umm italians..., the rest is just fluffy, hurt/comfort, x reader but no y/n

masterlist

The unsub had his gun pointed at you, the cold press of the barrel against flesh. He was ranting and raving about needing to be seen and understood, having spent his childhood in emotional neglect. Teachers and parents failed him at every turn, it’s not his fault that this happened but he can fix it if he just drops the gun. Rossi tried to tell him this over and over, but he only got more angry, pushing the gun in harder and harder. 

If you were to open your eyes, you would’ve seen JJ and Luke there too, guns trained on the unsub. Their eyes glancing between you, the unsub, and the gun. But you didn’t. Not until the bang went off and you could breathe again. 

The flashing lights of the ambulance do nothing to dissuade the pressing headache you feel coming on, the movement of people helps even less. You watch as the EMT’s cart the unsub away on a gurney, sheet covering him. 

“You okay, kid?” Rossi asks from beside you, he had been hovering ever since the ambulance arrived. 

“I’m fine, just need a good night's rest. I’ll be good as new.” You hummed half-heartedly. 

David Rossi always knew when someone was lying to him, part of that talent comes from his job as a profiler, but it’s mostly because of some ancient Italian magic. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that to me. Look, Hotch is on his way with Reid and Emily. They’re gonna be taking some witness statements, but I imagine Boy Wonder will be a little distracted. I want you to let him take care of you, ok? You’ve been through hell tonight kid, let him worry.”

Italians never lie, although you wish they did. Spencer had very obviously caught feelings for you, everyone on the team could see it. Unfortunately, so could you. Spencer Reid was one of the kindest, most genuine people you had ever met, always putting other people's needs before his own. A voice in your head kept telling you that there is nothing you have done to deserve someone like him doting all over you? You had only brought trouble to the people who loved you. Eventually you learned that it was better to just keep everyone at a distance; if you don’t let them in, they can’t get hurt. Which worked well, up until Spencer.

He had such a wormy way of getting into your brain at the worst times; whether it was when you were alone in your kitchen, or at slightly dangerous, very inappropriate times on a case. You couldn’t stop thinking about him and his stupidly cute (and sometimes ill-timed) facts. Some part of you wanted to let him in, in the end the stubborn side always took over. 

Before long, you heard the worried cries of Spencer trying to find you in the chaos. Rossi called his name and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Remember, you deserve to be looked after too.” and left to find Hotch.

“Oh my god, are you okay? We tried to get here as soon as we could, but they managed to take down the unsub right? What happened, did he hurt you? How did you get so close? Talk to me are-” Oh, how he rambles. 

“Spencer, I’m fine. I just need to… rest, you know. He didn’t hurt me that bad, just a sprained wrist, couple bruises. Could’ve been worse.”

He spluttered, “Could’ve- you know, that doesn’t make this any better, I was so worried about you. He had a fucking gun to your head, I was going insane thinking about what could’ve happened. What did the EMT say about your wrist?”

“Just to rest it, and use an ice pack if it starts to swell or hurt.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, he was so worried about you. It made butterflies dance in your belly, but there was a twinge of guilt there too. He was so busy, he worked so hard and then went home to look after his mom. He had too much on his plate, how could you add more to it? “Spence, I’m really sorry about worrying you. I should be fine to leave now, so I’ll just head home and sleep it off. Have a good night.” You pushed yourself off the ambulance, eyes focused downwards, restless fingers fidgeting with the already frayed bandage.

“No- wait what are you talking about? You’re gonna drive yourself home in this condition? I can’t let you do that, even thinking about it makes me feel sick.” He lowered his head to yours and spoke softer this time, “Please let me take you home. I don’t have to stay, I just want to make sure you’re ok, ok?”

Fuck that voice did things to you. Leaning from side to side, you thought about what Rossi had said earlier. Maybe, it was ok to let someone in? It would be cruel to let him suffer more, not knowing if you were ok or somehow got in a car crash with 5 other vehicles on your way home. Just this once, you think.

Looking up into his soft eyes, you give a small nod. His lips immediately turned up into a smile, his hand comes up to cup your head, fingers stroking your cheek. It felt… nice. His thumb was calloused but he still moisturised enough for it to feel smooth, and he smelled like lemongrass and ginger. His hand fell to the small of your back as he guided you to his car. Ever the gentlemen, he opened your door and softly placed his hand over your head as you got in. Manoeuvring himself into the driver's side, he pulled out his phone and typed something, then quickly stuffed it away into a pocket and turned on the engine.

The sky was dark when you woke up. The unsub had a gun to your head at dusk, and Spencer was walking into your apartment when the moon was out. He took off his shoes and the door, and walked into your living room.

“I’ve never been here before,” he mused. “I like it.”

He looked at ease wandering around your apartment, his shoulders had relaxed and he let out soft musings as he perused your photo collections.

“Oh Spencer, not that one, it’s embarrassing!” You tried (with not a lot of effort) to pull him away from the frame.

“No this is cute, was this when you were at University?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you.

Oh my god. “Yeah, um- those were some of my friends at the time. I try and keep in touch but, you know.”

He hummed, pulling you closer into him. Finally content, he looked down at you. “How’s your wrist?”

“It’s ok,” you shrugged, “just a little tender now.”

“Where’s your kitchen, I can get some ice.”

“Spence-” you wanted to tell him no, to go home and look after himself. But his body was so warm, having him so close to you melted your brain, leaving you unable to think of any good reason as to why he should leave. “It’s the first door on the right.”

His grip tightened for a moment before he swiftly navigated you to the sofa, and turned to leave for the kitchen. The cold of the apartment rushed to get you as soon as he unraveled his arms. You hadn’t been alone all day since the unsubs attack, it somehow felt more claustrophobic. His hand on your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. The way he grabbed your arm, contorting it so he could throw you to the ground. The gun, pressed into your forehead. The knowledge that the only thing between you being alive, and you being in a ditch, was a madman's finger on the trigger. Reality faded as each memory pressed further and further into your mind. You weren’t in your apartment anymore, you could feel the cold concrete beneath your hands. The thick air in your lungs, Rossi and the unsub shouting.

A hand on your knee, a soft voice bringing you back. There was no unsub, no gun to your head. You were alive. You were alive and Spencer was in your apartment, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face.

“You with me?” His voice was so soft, you couldn’t recall ever hearing Spencer raise his voice in anger. He was so gentle when he touched you. 

The floodgates burst, choked sobs made their way past your lips. Your shoulder shook as you cried, pressing yourself into Spencer’s arms. “Oh honey,” He murmured, pressing his lips into your head, softly rocking you back and forth as you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. It was too much. You could have died today. Very nearly did. You weren’t ready to die, not yet at least.

As your cries softened into hiccups, you pushed yourself back from Spencer. “I’m sorry, that was so disgusting. It just all- I don’t know.”

 “Hey, you don’t ever have to apologise to me ok? What you went through was really scary, I’d honestly be more shocked if you didn’t cry.” His hand moved to draw soothing shapes along your back as you leaned back into him. “You want to watch something to calm down? I brought you some water and an ice pack for your wrist.”

He would be the death of you. You nod and push yourself back into the sofa, moving your wrist to rest in your lap. Spencer gently places the ice pack across your wrist and grips the tips of your fingers. He leans forward to push your cup of water towards you and grabs the TV remote, then turns and leans back so your side is pressed into his front. Truthfully, Spencer didn’t seem like the type to watch cable TV but he navigated the menu with somewhat ease. 

“Look at what’s on! It’s your favourite isn’t it, you want me to put it on.” He said as he nudged your shoulder.

He remembered your favourite film, of course he would remember it he has an eidetic memory. You hummed a yes as you relaxed your body further into his, finally content. Maybe Rossi was right, having Spencer close really wasn’t so bad after all.

[star-suh]

Party Sucker

Song Mingi x Male Reader

cw: multiple rounds implied.

—

yn was already feeling the alcohol kicking in into his system, he just took a cocktail with lots of alcohol, the warming sensation caused by the liquid going down between his legs. he went to the bathroom trying to hide his notorious bulge, arriving at the place and closing the door but forgetting to lock it. he takes off his pants and starts stroking his erect member, using his spit as some sort of lube.

the stimulation took over his drunk mind, tears started to form and rolled down his eyes. the music was so loud and he was so focused on masturbating that he didn't hear the door opening. “jesus fucking christ” the unknown person gasped watching the other dude, “holy shit” yn jumps in surprise trying to hide his dick, when he was about to leave a hand stops him to do it, he turns to look and there he realizes that it was the song mingi, the jock of the school just saw him rubbing one out.

“the fuck you’re doing here, pervert?” he questioned, million of embarrassing scenarios crossed yn’s mind, he saw his image being shattered by pieces and being labeled as the pervert of the school. he hasn’t realized yet but he didn’t wipe his tears when he faced mingi, unbeknownst to him it turned the jock on. “oh shush don’t cry” mingi comforted him but yn was caught off-guard he wasn’t crying for that. mingi wipe his tears with his thumb and licked them “these tears got me so hard boy, you don’t know how much i enjoy seeing my fucktoys cry” he pushed yn down to make him sit on his knees “open up” he used his thumb to push his jaw down. he unzipped his pants and let out his cock, slapping it against yn’s face “do a good job”. yn licked the tip and then the shaft “that’s right all the way to the base, take it all”. mingi was thick and long, causing yn's gag reflexes made more tears to pool on his eyes, “so pretty” mingi murmured. “this is making my cock rock hard” he pulls out and wipe the tears with his precum soaked tip.

“you were made for this. i wonder how many cocks have you sucked” mingi grabbed yn by the back of his neck and fastened his pace, “is this why you were here, pervert? waiting for a cock that needed to be sucked to do it?” mingi keeps degrading yn while focusing to go deeper inside his tight throat, “fucking cockwhore”.

mingi’s heavy balls slapped againts yn’s chin, “look at you touching yourself while sucking a stranger’s cock, disgusting”he adds. when yn tried to talk back mingi forced his dick deeper inside him “fleshlights don’t talk” he says while slapping yn’s left cheek.

at this point yn was cock drunk. mingi pulled out his cock and rubbed it against yn’s lips and face, “tell me how much you want this cock”, “i want it so much please” he replied. “that’s not convincing” mingi said, “please just fuck my face, bury your cock in my throat and flood it with cum”. mingi cockily smiled, his ego swollen now, “don’t cum unless i told you” he put his dick back on his mouth and thrusted on it while yn kept stroking his dick but stopping when he feels he’s gonna cum.

“oh god” mingi growled, “faster, fuck go faster” he demanded. “oh fuck. oh fuck. oh fuck” he kept repeating those words until familiar ones echoed in yn’s ears “i’m cumming, cum with me”.

yn spilled his sperm on the bathroom’s floor while mingi emptied his load down his throat “that’s it pervert, swallow it all” he spoke accompanied by moans while riding his high. “good job, now let go of my dick” he pulls out while resting against the counter feeling a bit weak after the blowjob session. “look at the mess you made slut.. but you were such a good toy” mingi praised him one last time before going out of the bathroom.

“you must know where my dorm is, met me there before the end of the night if you wanna get used like a real fuck toy” and just like that mingi left…

yn’s head was buried in between some pillows while mingi drilled him, his cock going in and out of yn. “fuck this hole is so tight” he said “probably the tightest bitch i ever fucked”. mingi made sure to rearrange yn's insides, paint them in white and then churn it again with his thick meat, “you're like my fleshlight now. taking load after load without complaining. you were made for this”.

the sunlight made its way through the dorm curtains, the warm rays caressing yn's face and mingi's dick that was being taken care of with the other's mouth. yn swallowed every inch, hollowing his cheeks so the suction was stronger. “fuck keep doing that and i'll cum right now”. “that's it bro, yeah~” he praises shooting his last load on yn's face, his sperm landing on the other's hair, eyes, cheeks and mouth, “did i do a good job?” yn asked with doe eyes while rubbing the tip on his lips as if it was some kind of lipstick, “yes, you took it like a champ” mingi praised slapping his shaft on the other's cheek.

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷' 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷' S.Winchester

warnings: no smut, kissing

sam’s lips were trembling against yours, slick with the wet heat of kisses that felt too desperate to end. his breath came in soft, stuttered hitches, shaky as if his very soul were tangled in the rhythm of your mouths meeting, parting, crashing together again. you could taste the salt of his tears—he was crying, you knew, not out of sadness but because he loved you too much, too painfully much for his body to keep it in. the kisses went on and on, so sloppy and unrestrained, neither of you caring that spit trailed in silver threads when your lips pulled apart for air.

his hands, shaking but strong, framed your face like you were something holy. his fingers threaded through your hair, holding you in place, not so you couldn’t leave, but because he was terrified of you ever wanting to. his tears soaked into the curve of your cheek, mixing with the slick mess of your shared heat.

“why do you let me love you like this?” he gasped against your lips, the words trembling as much as his body. “i don’t deserve it, i—i don’t deserve you.” his forehead pressed against yours for the briefest moment, his breath shaky and warm on your mouth. before you could answer, his lips were on you again, clumsy, needy, like he thought you might disappear if he let even a second pass.

“sam, stop,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to speak but not enough to escape his trembling touch. “don’t say that. don’t you dare think you don’t deserve this—don’t deserve me.” your voice cracked as his tears fell harder, his lips brushing yours as if in apology for every insecure word. “i love you too, you idiot. you hear me? i love you. every part of you.”

his breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, the sound audible in the thick, electric quiet between you. “you don’t know what that does to me,” he said, his voice breaking like glass. “hearing you say that—god, i don’t know how to hold it all. i feel like i’m gonna fall apart.”

“then fall,” you murmured, kissing him again, softer this time, like your lips could hold him together. “fall, sam. i’ll catch you.”

his lips quivered against yours as he gasped out, "i’m sorry—god, i’m so sorry for feeling like this, for needing you so bad." his voice cracked, and his hands tightened their grip, his thumbs stroking your skin as if to memorize the texture.

“don’t be sorry,” you told him fiercely, your hands gripping his shoulders now, pulling him closer, grounding him. “don’t ever apologize for loving me. just… stay. just keep kissing me like this. don’t stop, sam.”

your tongues met, slow and languid at first, then messier, needier, until the sounds of it filled the space between you, loud and filthy in their honesty. he shivered every time your nails scraped lightly at the back of his neck, his body wracked with the tension of holding himself together when his heart was already splintering open in your hands. "please don’t let go," he whispered into your mouth, voice breaking with raw emotion, and the way he kissed you then was like a drowning man finally breaking the surface, gasping for air he thought he’d never breathe again.

“never,” you promised between gasps, between kisses. “i’ll never let go, sam. not in a million years. do you hear me?”

his answer was in the way he kissed you harder, deeper, until his sobs became quiet hiccups against your lips, and his breathing evened out, the storm of his love still there but soothed by the way your mouth never left his. your lips stayed locked together as time blurred into nothingness—seconds, minutes, hours, none of it mattered. it was just you and sam, lost in the closeness, his tears streaking your face now as well, a mingling of everything raw and unspoken between you. his hands drifted, slow and reverent, down your back, his touch a trembling apology for every moment he’d ever thought himself unworthy of you. you kissed him harder, deeper, until the truth of everything unspoken between you lived in the space your lips never let break apart.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis

[kurishiri]

Darius Vogel ┊ The great detective Harrison’s book of incidents

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the 440 times sent bonus for harrison’s promised event! i now know how jude fans feel... /lh

[TYPEWRITER]

CASE 04 DETAILS: The search for my cute little robin. REQUESTER: Darius.

[HALLWAY; NEUTRAL POV]

Liam: We’ve got nothing on our hands now since we put in our mission report, I see...

Harrison: Nothing, including your work over at Scala?

Liam: Tom’s making the script! He was telling us that he’s run into a bit of a block, so to give him a few days time.

On a certain day, with not a single strange happening, a shadow of a person approached the two, making casual chat.

Darius: Well, hello there, Harrison Gray and Liam Evans.

Harrison: And what might the head of Vogel need from us?

Darius: My poor heart, why so guarded?

D: I just caught wind a little while ago from the Queen’s Aide. You’re looking for cases to solve as detectives, yes?

D: So by all means, I would like you to hear mine out. (＠＾◡＾)

Liam: Oh, my curiosity’s tickling me, Harry!

Harrison: Yeah, and I feel like if we pick it up just to satiate that curiosity of yours, it’s gonna bite us back hard in the rear. (￣□￣」)

Darius: Hehe— don’t worry so much. I’m not really looking for anything grand.

D: I’d simply like you to find an adorable little robin who flitted away from my hands.

[STORAGE ROOM; KATE’S POV]

As Harrison, Liam, and Darius continued to converse, unbeknownst to the robin in question——

Meanwhile, I was in the palace’s storage room.

(It’s going to be fine. Darius would never be able to find me like this...!)

Why am I hiding from Darius, you ask? Well, it all happened just several minutes before...

—�� Flashback ——

[PALACE GUEST ROOM]

Darius: Miss fairytale keeper, come play with me, how about it?

It was a line I’ve heard before, and I responded back...

Kate: Umm... I didn’t come here to play though.

Darius: That I know. You’re here to record the discussion Victor and I are going to have, isn’t that right?

Kate: Yes, that’s right. So, that’s why I don’t have time to play——

Darius: About that, Victor ended up getting caught up in some previous engagements, so he’s going to be an hour late.

D: So here we are, keep me occupied in that hour, will you. (＾▽＾)

—— End flashback ——

[STORAGE ROOM]

And then he suggested we play hide and seek.

Because, ‘If I find you in time, I’ll have you do a single thing of whatever I ask.’

He donned the face of an angel, all the while setting the conditions of a devil, and recalling those words, I tried my utmost best to find a hiding place.

(There’s only a few minutes left. At this rate, I will be able to escape from him.)

I looked up at the clock, lax, when...

Darius: Fooound you, miss fairytale keeper.

I wanted dearly to think I was hallucinating, but the one with that heartless voice tapped my shoulder.

Darius: I would like it if you didn’t ignore me, you know. Or, what... are you so focused at work, my voice just goes through one ear and right out the other?

D: So, so focused on cleaning, aren’t you, Miss Kate the maid.

I was dressed as a palace maid and holding a broom, and seeing this sight, Darius spoke, a teasing tone laced in his voice.

[CHOICES - START]

˖🕰️୭˚ CHOICE #1: ...I can hear you.

Kate: ...I can hear you. It’s just I didn’t think you would be able to find me.

Darius: Well, it wasn’t just me, you know. I had them help out, too.

(‘Them’...?)

Holding onto some doubt, I looked over his shoulder, and...

˖🕰️୭˚ CHOICE #2: You’ve got the wrong person.

Kate: You’ve got the wrong person.

Darius: Do I now? Let me take a closer look then.

Saying so, Darius spun around me.

Darius: Hmm... no matter where and how I look, I think it’s you through and through, miss fairytale keeper.

D: Oh, but just to be extra sure, I will definitely know if it’s her or not if we kiss. (⌒▽⌒)

Kate: I-I’ve never even kissed you before, though, so how would you know?

Darius: Hehe, so you admit it? That you are the miss fairytale keeper.

Kate: Ah...!

Realizing my own slip-up, I finally looked over his shoulder, and...

˖🕰️୭˚ CHOICE #3: Goodness me, I’m very, very busy!

Kate: Goodness me, I’m very, very busy!

Convincing myself that Darius’ voice was surely a hallucination, I continued sweeping the dust with my broom.

Darius: You’re ‘busy,’ you say? Well then, I’ll lend a helping hand.

Saying so, Darius snatched the broom from my hands.

Darius: But, are you really sure? If you made me clean and whatnot because you lied, then it would become quite a problem, methinks.

Kate: ...urgh, sorry. That was a lie. It’s my loss.

Apologizing, I looked over his shoulder.

[CHOICES - END]

There stood not only Darius, but Harrison and Liam as well.

Kate: Why are you two here too?

Harrison: Because we took up a request from Darius to find your hiding spot.

Liam: Isn’t Harry incredible? He was all like, ‘There’s not many places within the palaces to hide oneself, so she wouldn’t be physically hiding her body.’

L: ‘Instead, she’ll probably try and mix herself in with the maids and clean or something.’

Kate: Right to a tee... you really are incredible, Harrison.

K: That said, using Harrison by putting in a request would be unfair. My chances to win would plummet then, wouldn’t it!

Darius: But nowhere in the rules did we say I couldn’t. (￣��￣)

D: And besides, there really was something I wanted you to do, miss fairytale keeper, so I could hardly afford to care about appearances.

Liam: ...It looks like the one whose rear is getting bitten isn’t us, but rather Kate, huh. (´-ω-`)

Harrison: Well, seeing as you’re a member of Crown, too, I doubt it’s anything irredeemably bad.

H: ...I think.

After throwing me sympathizing glances, Liam and Harrison left.

Darius: Now then... as for what I wanted you to do, miss fairytale keeper...

Darius’ honey-colored eyes glimmered like a blaze, as though he were a carnivore that found its prey.

Kate: Please go easy on me. I would prefer it if you didn’t hurt or scare me...

Darius: Well, isn’t that a tad troubling, to think the little miss fairytale keeper misunderstands me like that. (￣ヘ￣)

D: Okay, I’ve decided. The thing I want you to do is... ‘to do ten things of whatever I ask.’ (⌒▽⌒)☆

Kate: Wha...

Here I was, thinking if it was just one thing, I could somehow get through it, but somehow that ‘one’ turned straight to ‘ten.’

Kate: ...Can you even do that?

Darius: The rules didn’t say I couldn’t, yes?

D: Now then, whatever should I have you do, miss fairytale keeper...

D: First things first, maybe I’ll have you attend to me in your current outfit. And then—— (^ヮ^)

Darius was pulling out his tricks while wearing a smile,

[BLACK]

and seeing him like that before me, I thought to myself: ‘The next time Darius and I have a match, I will make sure to lay some clear-cut rules on the table.’

Fin.

PROLOGUE.

masterlist 🔎 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[m1ngkis]

heyy girl can you do a jeonghan smut 🙏🏾 Like the reader had a attitude all day and was giving him silent treatment.

A/N: Of course! Thank you for requesting! This is my first time writing for Jeonghan so please be kind ❤️ Not proofread

TW: Sexual Intercouse descriptions, pet names, orgasm denial, Jeonghan is a little mean, No Minor Zone

Master list

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason you were so irritated at him. Maybe it was your pms acting out or the fact that he’d been so busy with work he had barely given you any attention in the past week. Maybe you just felt like being mad at him.

Whatever the reason, it had manifested into you not so much as breathing in Jeonghan’s direction for the day; his day off.

The one day where you two bed rotted and never left each others side for so much as a second.

When he tried to kiss you good morning, you turned your head, getting up from the covers to freshen up in the bathroom instead.

When he’d asked you what was wrong, you just shrugged, your nonchalance ticking him off that much more.

“How long you gonna keep this up hm?” He asked you, fed up once the clocked reached 2pm and he still hadn’t received a lick of affection from you. “We both know I could beat you at this little game if I wanted to.”

You just continued cleaning the dishes that had piled in the sink throughout the day.

You could hear him sigh behind you and part of you started to feel bad for how you had been acting especially over practically nothing.

“I’m sorry..whatever I did. I’m sorry.”

“You-“ The word slips from your lips before you can get a hold of yourself and though it was a whisper, you know he heard it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be invading your space so suddenly, urging more words out of you.

“What was that?” His mouth is centimeters from your ear, his hair tickling your neck as his hands wrap around your belly. “Come on honey. You either say it yourself or I force it out of you.”

A shudder sneaks its way down your spine at his tone of voice. “I just-“ You squeeze your eyes shut and curse yourself for how easily you fold for him.

His fingertips are dancing across your skin, teasing with your clothing and making you ache for more. “You just what?”

“I don’t feel good Hannie..”

“No? That why you’re being such a brat today?”

You find your head lulling back at his touch, a dish slipping from your hands and clattering in the steel sink.

“Careful, honey..” He whispers in your ear just as his fingers dip past your waist band and find themselves rubbing at your clit gently. “This pussy is getting wet already. What is it? You get turned on by giving me a hard time?”

You shake your head as his fingers press firm on the aching bud, sending flurries of pleasure through your body, clouding your brain.

“Hannie~”

“Shhh..you don’t want to talk to me remember. I don’t want to hear a sound out of you.” His lips graze your cheek as quiet pleads bleed from your lips. “You gonna cum?”

“Yes! Yes, Jeonghan!” You can feel it tight in your belly, just within reach but then his fingers are leaving you and it fades.

You tell yourself that this is what you get and if you thought that Jeonghan was gonna be nice and forgiving about your attitude, you obviously didn’t know your boyfriend well enough.

With a chuckle, he brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your arousal clean off. “Tastes so sweet.”

A pout makes its way on your lips at the loss of your orgasm. “Awe. Look at you.” Jeonghan coos, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to look at him. “Poor thing wants to cum but didn’t apologize first..”

Instantly the apology is tumbling from your puckered lips; a promise to be good and grateful for whatever he gives you (for now)

“That’s my girl. Let’s try this again shall we?”

His hands move to your hips, pulling them back until you are bent over, your ass pressed against his prodding erection making you whine out.

“Say ‘please Hannie’” He orders, pushing your clothing out of the way and sliding past your folds.

“Please, Hannie!” You cry as he slides home, not bothering to let you adjust as he starts pushing and pulling your body back to meet him.

The dull smack of skin mixes with your eager moans and it is nothing short of music to his ears.

“Just what you needed, isn’t it?” Joe than huffs, his grip on your waist bruising and harsh. “You get so petty when you’re horny.”

The lightbulb flickers on in your head. Of course that was it. You had barely seen him, let alone had sex in at least a month. Your Jeonghan withdrawal symptoms were screaming at you and yet, the only one that could see it was the man himself.

You feel your self clenching around him as your orgasm charges at you more intense than before. “F-fuck!” The curse high pitched as your legs start to tremble.

“God, you’ve got me in tight don’t you? Let it go honey.. it’s okay.” His hand reaches around you, delivering light smacks to your clit as you cum around him.

As you catch your breath, Jeonghan leans forward into your ear. “Next time, just ask.”

[prettyinpikk]

This is a multi-part series. Credit for both OCs in this goes to @norvstforthvwickvd, and I want to thank my bestie @sologenny for helping me write this series.♡

Terry Richmond x OC! Stormi Montoya

18+, Augst, fluff, mention of shooting, killing, dying, and death, blood, childhood friends to lovers dynamic, choking, kissing, dom and sub, p in v, bondage, blindfolding, gagging, roleplaying, and hair pulling.

This is part 1 of A Soldier's Duty

Hector’s POV:

“ALL RIGHT CADETS! GET READY TO FIRE!” screamed my sergeant.

We were currently in Berlin, Germany for war. I was ready for anything to come my way. I had both guns loaded, and a cannon behind me just in case the enemy got too close, or tried to come from behind. My other team members were lined up just how we were taught, and how we practiced. We were just waiting for the German army to strike before us. Anyone or thing that tried to come at us would be completely debunked because of how much we’ve prepared for this very moment.

I saw a German soldier running toward our line, and our sergeant screamed “FIRE!” That was the only thing I heard before all the shots started firing. I watched each and every German soldier’s body drop towards the floor while our soldiers ran towards their bodies and stole their guns. We needed their guns to make sure that we had extra supplies since the US didn’t want to send more until the middle of December.

One by one, people were falling to their knees and I saw so many lifeless bodies, wondering if this was the end of any families’ hope and faith. Making sure that I wouldn’t be one of those bodies. I couldn’t leave the family I had back in America. Not now. Not today. Especially when I have Stormi waiting for me to come home.

“SHOOT THE CANNON!” We all heard Sergeant yelling repeatedly. A group of three, myself and two other soldiers, went towards the cannon. I completely forgot that I wasn’t supposed to leave the barricades that we’d set up abandoned. I had left my other team members to fend for themselves, when I’m one of the strongest people who’s enrolled, well that’s what I thought. I quickly realized my mistake after I shot the cannon and felt a warm feeling in my chest. I looked down to see blood coming straight out of my chest while I tried to put my hand over my chest to try to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t working. All I could think of at this moment was Stormi. And how she might never see me again if I don’t get medical help right now.

“While he entangled his hands in my hair, I made sure to open my mouth as wide as possible- WOAH! Stormi, what the hell do you have me reading?” I asked my younger sister as she wanted to show me this new book she’s been writing.

“What? It’s just called smut Hector. The writing class that I signed up for wants me to step out of my comfort zone, and the teacher said that it could be anything. It’s not like I’m gonna share this one out though.” She said as she shrugged her shoulders while eating a gogurt pack.

“Well tell your teacher to stop making you step out of your comfort zone. Got me reading shit that YOU don’t even need to be writing OR experiencing. Don’t let me catch you actually doing this shit Stormi.” I said while I mugged her and handed her book back.

Her teacher can keep the whole assignment. I want nothing to do with it and I hope she gets an A on whatever the hell that was.

~~~~~

I tried my hardest to run and get some help so they could dislodge the bullet. But I was too late. I didn’t know what to do. I was falling over my own feet and everything around me was fading. My vision was getting blurry and I just barely saw two soldiers coming to pick me up. I fought to keep my eyes open, but it wasn’t working. The only thing left on my mind was my sister. I can’t let her forget about me. “M-make sure t-to tell Stormi Montoy-ya I love h-her.” And with that, I officially closed my eyes.

~A week later ~

Stormi’s POV:

I was sitting in my office writing an overview for this article that my boss needed for a deadline that was pretty close before receiving a knock on the door. “Coming!” I yelled out at the continuing knock.

“Alright, alright I’m here!” I opened the door to see two marines standing there in their camo uniforms with an envelope, a folded flag, and a plaque of medals. “Are you Stormi Montoya?” one of the soldiers asked. “Yes, I am w-what’s going on?” I held onto the door for support not wanting to believe what was happening in front of me. “We as soldiers of this country are here to present you the medals and flag of your late brother Cadet Hector Montoya who passed in the line of duty Monday-” “OH GOD NOOO!” I let out my cries of terror as the cadet continued with the speech but I couldn’t care less my brother was dead. I stood there with my legs barely able to hold my body up as tears fell from my face and my body shaking with sorrow as I took the things from the soldiers and just closed the door, left with a big empty feeling in my chest. 

I looked down at the envelope that had my name on it in his handwriting on the front. Tears overflowed my vision as I broke down more, the grief taking over every inch of my body finally falling to my knees, cradling everything to my chest. “Hector!…. HECTOR!” I called and cried for my big brother pleading for him to come back. It was the same feeling that took over my life when our parents passed after I went to college. “Please Hector, I can’t be alone like this, you know I hate that. You promised to always come back.”

“Hector, where are you going?” I asked him as he packed a bag to go by Terry’s for the weekend. “I’m going by Terry’s house for the weekend. You know this Stormer I told you this five times already.” He said with a roll of his eyes but I knew he wasn’t really annoyed with me because of the affectionate nickname he always called me when he knew I was actually worried. “You’ll come back right?” I asked as I stood next to him. My 7-year-old self said in my Disney princess nightgown and bunny slippers. “Yea I'm coming back Stormer it’s only for the weekend and plus I’m your big brother I always come back.” Was the last thing he said before he gave a gap tooth smile.

I finally calmed down enough after a while to look at the letter that Hector wrote to me. I flipped it over to the back taking out the folded piece of paper, I felt another wave of tears wanting to come out again. I opened it to read:

Dear Stormer,

 “Oh God,” I said my voice cracking.

I missed you very much sis I want wanted to come home and tell ya about the crazy ass training I went through before the war in Berlin for the holidays and taste the cherry pie you said wanted to try to make on your own and to read over your recent works that you wrote. But if you got this letter that sadly means none of that can happen… Now I don’t you to go crying over me and the fact that I’m not here anymore. That doesn't mean I’m not still here for you. I want you to keep writing so maybe in the future you can show your kids all of your work like you did with me, but they’d probably end up being nerds like you and go write novels or something. I don't know, you always had the brains for stuff like this. Anyways I just want you to take care of yourself and even if you feel like you can’t Terry will look out for you. Just call him and he’ll answer for you. He promised me he would pick up where I left off if anything happened to me, to look out for you. I want you to be okay Stormer even if I'm not there. I just want you to be okay and you are not alone.

-Love your big brother, Hector

After reading the whole letter I just sat in the middle of my living room processing what I just read. My mind raced over the words, again and again, my pain flourishing into anger and hurt it was like he was ready to die as if he gave up the moment he stepped foot onto that field but I knew it was my mind and heart going through the stages of grief but I couldn’t help it, I already lost my parents and now my brother I just couldn’t take the pain anymore. 

I got up from the floor, putting my brother’s things down on the coffee table before I headed upstairs to my room and just flopped down on the bed. The side effects of me crying finally caught up to me causing me to drift off to sleep. Maybe I’ll wake up and this would all be a bad dream.

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another

[seventh-district]

sighs and collapses and disintegrates into the wind

[exopelagic]

what WAS the normal child response to learning abt climate change actually. bc I’m pretty sure ‘depressed for at least 6 months and becoming deeply fascinated by apocalypses for ~3 years’ was prooooobably not it but who am I to say

[makismei]

thinking about toji with a sensitive girl who runs away before she cums, saying it’s too much and she can’t take it! cw: hints of sadism & machoism, unintentional edging, squirting, he’s pretty sweet ^.^

“baby, c’mon, you’re making this harder for yourself.” he chides, dragging your twitchy hips back. your thighs stay shut and he sends you a pointed glare, “what’s this?”

“toji,” you sniffle, “s’ too much, i can’t do it.”

with your teary eyes and quivering legs, toji can’t help but be mean. you’re so cute. it might be the death of him.

“want to use your special little word?” he asks lowly, already knowing your answer.

you shrink in on yourself, “n-no…”

he hums, a sick grin tugging on his lips. “i’m gonna need something more convincing than that, baby.”

you pout. he’s teasing you. he likes to see you like this.

shyly, you open your thighs, revealing your soaked cunt to him. his eyes lock in on your needy hole, twitching and drooling all over the bedsheets. “please, toji, make me cum..”

“aw, how sweet. saying please too, how can i say no?” he mutters, thick hand caressing your thigh, trailing closer to where you need him.

“you’re not gonna run this time, right?” he pats your pussy, entertained by the way you tense and how you force your legs to stay open.

“m’ not!” he knows you’re lying. but it’s fine, he likes testing how far you can go.

he thumbs your clit, watching you intently. you’re staring down at his hand, anticipating his next move. slowly, he pushes two fingers inside, groaning to himself when you squeeze down on his digits, “what a slutty cunt,” he grouses, “see doll, she’s begging to cum, but you’re not letting her.”

toji prods around, still thumbing your clit and you think you’re going to cry.

“hold your legs back,” he doesn’t even bother looking at you, “your legs are trying to close on me.”

you know what’s gonna happen if you hold your legs back. but also, what happens if you don’t. you shake your head, defiant. “i don’t wanna…”

the man hums, amused. “you’re gonna be like that?” you nod, testing him.

“hmm, i think m’ done being nice to you.” your pupils morphing into hearts at his words, barely even realizing that he’s putting a hand on your thigh, pushing it down to make room for him. he locks your other leg underneath him.

his fingers know exactly where to poke, thumb still on your clit. he’s so precise, aiming for that one spot again and again.

naturally, because he’s already tried to make you cum a few times, it doesn’t take long for you to know you’re gonna cum.

“don’t.” he scolds, already knowing what you’re up to, “don’t hold it, cum.”

it’s overwhelming, you’re not sure if you’re holding it intentionally, but you like it when he forces you to cum anyway. “i c-can’t, toji, toji no!”

you’re trying to squirm away. away from the onslaught of pleasure. toji glares at you and then you hear it.

a soft buzz and you look down, mortified. he’s still fingering you, despite the fact you’re clenching down so hard he can barely move his fingers.

“wait.. wait toji, baby, please,” you beg, “i’ll cum, i’ll cum now. but plea—easeeee!”

“i’ve given you enough chances,” he frowns, pressing the little toy against your clit, he continues driving his digits into you. “c’mon baby, make me happy.”

you’re sobbing hysterically, unable to get away from the pleasure. toji laughs, “let go, i dunno why you’re doing this to yourself.”

writhing on the bed is useless because you can’t escape his hold—teetering on the edge of orgasm is making your mind go numb.

“n-no, m’ gonna cum, toji i can’t hold it! it’s gonna come ouuuttt!” he doesn’t let up, shaking the toy and watching your back arch up.

“hands.” he scolds and you immediately withdraw your clammy fingers from his own, “that’s good, now c’mon, you know what i want.”

it’s paralyzing, left leg shaking uncontrollably underneath him while you babble incoherently. he keeps a watchful eye, working you to it. he feels his cock drooling pre at the sight of you—the feeling of you falling apart on his fingers is making his mind hazy.

your vision whites. toji whistles lowly, watching you splash liquid all over his lower tummy, soaking his boxers. he tosses the vibrator aside, thick fingers gently working you through it.

you’re practically screeching, becoming so fidgety that toji has to use his free hand to scoop up your wrists, keeping you at his mercy.

“shh, baby, that’s good. that feels good, don’t it?” when your body relaxes, he pops his fingers out, shamelessly putting them in his mouth. he leans over you, pressing his weight onto you.

burly hands hold your face, grinning at your bleary eyes and tear soaked cheeks. “hey, gorgeous,” he hums sweetly, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. you’re panting, trying to catch your breath and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but it’s in his nature to be a little mean.

pressing his tongue into your open mouth, you moan, unable to keep up and he breathes out a laugh, pulling away. he knocks his nose against yours, praising you quietly.

weak arms throw themselves over his neck, keeping him close to you. you can feel his bulge twitch, a familiar warmth beginning spread over your body.

“tojiii~” you tease, “i think your little friend wants some attention too.”

he’s amused, grinning wolfishly. “haven’t you had enough, lady?”

you pretend to ponder, “i can’t say for sure.”

“you started this,” he pulls away, manhandling your body so you’re on your knees, face smushed into the pillow, “i think you’re biting off more than you can chew, doll.”

more pleasure dom!toji here ^.^

[fakebwitch]

reader being obsessed with rafe’s biceps and he wants to please her

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

rafe is obviously aware of how fitnessed and perfect his body is, and he also knows how obsessed you are. when you two fuck your hands are always somehow on his body, from when you ride him, holding yourself on his muscular legs or placing your hands on his chest, or when y’all are doing missionary, your nails dig into the skin of his back as he thrust hard inside you or tighten around his biceps.

speaking of biceps, they were your favorite thing. I mean, you loved every single thing about his body, his back, his shoulders, his abs, his thigh but biceps would do it for you everytime. you would drool every time you see him wearing one of his short-sleeved polo shirts, putting his muscular arm in perfect view, your eyes would carefully observe every single contraction, asking him to open a simple bottle of water or fix something that you had voluntarily broken just to enjoy the sight of his arms at work.

you loved having his strong arms holding you close to him, there was nothing that made you happier when at night, after a long day, his arms wrapped around your figure pulling you towards him, his grip firm as the heat of his body began to expand to yours.

rafe wasn’t stupid, he noticed after a short time your continuous eyes on his biceps, how you somehow tried to always have a hand on them and how you wanted rafe’s arms always around you. he was always ready to tease you about it, you would laugh everytime trying to hide your flushes.

obviously this obsession of yours grows when we talk about sex. having him chocking you while pounding into you, watching at the way his biceps flexed made you clench around his length, or when his fingers were buried inside your tight hole, you would force yourself to keep your eyes open even though all you wanted to do was to throw you head back just to watch the way his arm was contracting at the speed he was using and his veins on full display.

one day he proposed you something that left you in disbelief, not like you have never thought about something like that before but hearing him say it to you was totally different. you had stopped from grinding onto his bulge, looking at him with wide eyes while he just looked at you with his usual cocky smirk, your pussy clenching around nothing just at the idea.

“you’re just so obsessed princess, bet you wouldn’t mind riding it instead of grinding on my dick, would you?” he had proposed to you, his gaze fell down indicating what he was referring to, your hand tight around his biceps. you stared at him for what seemed like hours not knowing what to answer, suddenly you felt like you wanted to disappear. “don’t get shy on me now baby, use your words mhm?” he incited you, his hand moved from your hip to rest on your cheek, slowly rubbing his thumb on the soft skin as you rested your head on it, enjoying his warm touch.

“yeah… i would- i would love that” you answered, you didn’t even know where you had found the courage to accept something so dirty but that you wanted at the same time so much. rafe’s grin widened even more noticing the shyness in your voice, he could feel that you were insecure about it, he was quick to put his lips on yours in a small kiss. “don’t worry baby I got you, just use me like you prefer” he whispered to you a few centimeters from your lips, you bit your lip hearing such words, your most perverse dream was coming true.

“uhh f-fuuck… rafeee” you gasped moving your hips quickly, your head thrown back while you fully enjoyed the pleasure of your clit in contact with his contracted muscle, your moisture scattered all over the area, sliding along the elbow. “I know baby I’m here, keep going” he incited you, he looked at you from below with eyes full of lust groping his cock in the pants, a mess of his own pre cum in his boxer while enjoying the scene of his pretty girl rubbing herself on his biceps.

“i’m gonna- gonna..” your voice broken as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to reaching the peak, your legs began to hurt and your movements slowed down, you felt tears forming at the corners of your eyes worried that you wouldn’t be able to reach your orgasm but rafe was right there, and without you being able to say anything else he put a hand on the back of your thigh, pushing you to continue rubbing yourself on his biceps.

“there you go baby… make a mess all over me”. In no time you reached your orgasm, an almost pornographic moan came out of your lips as your movements stopped abruptly, your cum began to drip on his skin. slimy sounds filled the room while rafe helped you ride your orgasm with some other small push, before you fell in the place next to him, your legs tingled from the effort you had subjected them to.

“that’s it princess, was it good?” he asked you observing your fucked-out expression then moving his gaze to his arm, completely covered with your wetness.

“the best fucking thing ever.”

[angelicsoka]

THE HAT RULE, t. owens

word count | 1.7k words

pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader

summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is. 

warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended. 

a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.

the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through  your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel. 

tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.

that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.

“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.

“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare. 

“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles. 

“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.

“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.

“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.

“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:

“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.

by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.

“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”

“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”

“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks. 

“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–”  you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.

“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave. 

you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties. 

your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.

“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more. 

you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.

“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.

“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head. 

as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.

“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”

“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.” 

[k9wa]

𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?” 

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…” 

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 

his own dream, now his downfall. 

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[evqnescene]

so so sooooooo sick of thisssssssssssssss

[salemlunaa]

☀︎ YOU’RE NOT BEING PRODUCTIVE, YOU’RE LAZY AND AFRAID ☀︎

And this will cost you a lot of time that could be spent with your desires…

You have all the information, why aren’t you applying. You tell me you have been in this community for 6 months, a year, 2 years+, but how many of those days you’ve spent in this community have you actually applied, how many of those nights did you actually apply and don’t just fall asleep after 5 seconds.

And i know why you’re lazy, it’s because you’re scared, you’re scared of inducing process, whether it be success or failure. You make yourself busy with scripts and subliminals, “i’ll script this really cool thing first”, “i’ll scroll a little on tumblr first” “lemme just look at the success story hashtag before i do it, it really motivates me” You try and distract your self, you delude yourself into thinking you’re being productive but really you don’t want to, if you wanted to you wouldn’t be here and I will ALWAYS stand by that. You put it off until the last minute and then when it “doesn’t work” you run back to tumblr acting like you actually did anything.

a really good analogy from @archsariel333 - “you buy the pens, the notebook, you plan for the book you’re going to write but, you never write it”

“let me just add this one thing to the plan”, “let me look at inspo for book covers and art styles for illustration”, “let me go to my book writers group on tumblr and see if they have anymore advice for me even tho i know how to write a fucking book”

I know it’s comforting and validating to be in the “waiting period”, the period of anticipation. You want to go shopping for a vacation, pack your suitcase, look at reviews on social media, plan the pics you’re going to take, but getting on the actual plane can be scary, you ask yourself “what if they deny my boarding pass”, “what if i fail to make it on time”, “what if im not eligible to fly for whatever reason”, you don’t want to leave your comforting circumstances and even the trip itself scares you just a little, so you cope by buying all the vacation outfits in the world, saving inspo pics into a pinterest board, looking at vlogs of other people going to that place. You can’t bring yourself to get on the fucking plane.

You need to apply, and properly, 2024 is almost over, the amount of weeks we have left isn’t even in the double digits anymore, I don’t want you to make it to the end of this DECADE still keeping the tumblr “foryou” page company, watching people coming and going feeling paralysed as people who came here later than you pass you by. I know the feeling sucks but whose fault is that?

I want you to scrap the amount you’ve been here. Since you’re the operant power right? I don’t care how many weeks, months, years you’ve been here, scrap it, you’re going to start afresh and you’re going to actually apply, when you have the time, you’re not going to go back to your notes app, notion or pinterest to script some more, you’re going to apply.

A lot of you have the knowledge that majority of the world doesn’t and time on your hands, do you know how powerful and extremely fortunate you are, to have time AND knowledge? i don’t think alot of you understand how much of a privilege that is you are unstoppable yet you stop yourself out of fear that you will “fail” to tap into the void and let yourself down. You are so privileged to know what you know and to have the time to apply it, so do it, your not gonna scroll on tiktok for a few more minutes or shove a million subliminals down your throat to “prep yourself” you’re just going to take a breath and do it. Induce pure consciousness, and if you fall asleep scrap that assumption and do it again.

Look at your life right now, do you honestly like it, do you like envying others for having what you can have at the snap of your fingers. Do you like the life you are living?

I want you to tell yourself that you will not be the reason for your own demise. you will NOT be the reason that it’s 2026,27,28 and so on and you don’t have what you want.

please just go and apply, i don’t even know you guys and it hurts watching you kill time when you could’ve had everything a day ago, an hour ago heck even 5 minutes ago.

apply apply apply, don’t let this feeling be the reason you “fail” 💋🍑

[danielnelsen]

my dad’s doing an amateur radio competition which is great for him and all, but the interference from his radio keeps crashing my computer and im in a Bad Mood