#they put him through a lot this season too

[buddyhollysbuddyholly]

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ. ELVIS VER. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

All about ELVIS (pride themed)

Hes a cis guy, he's not like too deep into gender since he's comfortable with his own but he does understand it and does his best.

Hes GAY!!! Who would've guessed! He used to be very confused and almost angry at himself for being Homo especially in season 1 (kinda like JFK's questioning episode) but by the middle of season 2 he ignores the jock stereotypes and learns to accept himself.

He was drunk in episode one and had a deep talk with Gregory (my lovely wife's clone) and was like "shoot..I like him.." Though his parents always had a thought he would turn out, gay, and they tried to ignore it for as long as possible.

His parents are rich and barely around so of course his environments rocky. At school with his old friends their very much your typical jock guys who make gay jokes and stuff. When he gains new friends after season 1 (buddy, James dean etc) he becomes more accepting and his environment gets better.

Well me and my girlfriend were talking about our ideas for the clones and she was like "I dunno if I like Gregory and buddy together.." and I brought up Elvis and Gregory as a little joke but uh..that in fact did NOT stay a joke.

He doesn't mind labels, they respect others labels and would prefer if people respected his.

Not that I know of..maybe finding like straight like..videos erotic but other than that he's pretty confidant in his identity.

The idea that 1) the actual Elvis was considered a ladies man and 2) there is a lot of pressure from the other jocks and his own family to date a cute cheerleader (specifically Marie Antoinette)

Im not really sure..soooo NEXT!

yup! him and the gang usually go to parades and dress up for it, he's performed at one

he used to be really quiet and low-key about it, only kissing Gregory behind bleachers and at their homes, but now he's open and publicly shows his affection for Gregory

In season 1 he most definitely has internalized homophobia and transphobia (not to bad extents by they're there.) Hes able to move past it though and he acknowledges his faults

I don't think so, he doesn't really understand it and he also only has eyes for Gregory.

Hes not mine, but my girlfriend @waylonjenningswife oc (waylon I know ironic) is actually demi aroace!

None of them do, I don't think they'd really get them but they respect them!

I mean..I guess? if making actual people into clones and making them a part of the community counts

Not mine (again) but my girlfriends Marilyn and Bettie clones! (lesbians)

It depends on the oc but I personally like giving them labels just cause I feel it normalizes it more

i dunno about preference? But I usually show it as how it goes on in high school (since clone high..duh..) cause its not always so apparent ESPECIALLY with the popular kids its so annoying

they def did cause I was able to put how I feel about finding myself and etc into them and it helped lots

uhhh if you wanna know more about Elvis or my other ocs feel free to ask about them through my ask box!

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈PRIDE THEMED OC ASK GAME🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️

Bc I wanted one and didn't find it so. Here

[Send ask aimed at a specific character]

1. What's your oc's gender identity? What's their relationship to their gender?

2. What's your oc's orientation? (Romantic/sexual/platonic alterous ect) Do they have opinions about it?

3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

4. Is your oc's environment supportive about their identity? How does this impact them?

5. How did you figure out your oc's identity?

6. How does your oc feel about labels? Theirs, or in general?

7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?

8. Have they had struggles with their identity, be it due to internal or external reasons?

9. Are there cultural or lore specific aspects to their identity? If applicable, does their species affect it?

10. Does your oc celebrate Pride? How?

11. Is your oc open about their identity? Are they more lowkey or more blunt about it? Why or why not?

12. Does/did your oc ever wish they could change the way they are? Why? If it's in the past, how did they get over the feeling? (this can be about internalized homo/transphobia)

13. Would your oc be open to a poly relationship? Why or why not?

[Not aimed at a specific character] / [Aimed at creator]

14. Do you have ocs on the aro or ace spectrum?

15. Do any of your ocs use neopronouns? Which ones?

16. Did you ever change an oc's identity when they were already established? Why?

17. Do you share identity with any of your ocs? Which ones?

18. Do you prefer to give your ocs specific labels, or keep it unspecified? Why? If applicable, do you change their labels depending on circumstance?

19. Do you have preferences about depicting homo/transphobia in your stories? What, and why? Does it vary by story?

20. Have your ocs helped you in self discovery? How?

21. Free ramble card wee

[malk1ns]

january 17 @ sabres, 5-2 win

goalie goal and geno showing off the goods. hell yeah.

When Sid was a little boy, he remembers asking his dad if he’d ever scored a goal while he was still playing hockey.

Troy never made it to the NHL; he probably could have gotten some time in the A, but he was never going to be a big star. He was good enough to get drafted, though, and play in the Q, and when Sid was little all hockey was equally impressive.

He remembers his dad laughing and nudging at the new stick he’d gotten for Christmas, still too tall for him but something his parents promised he’d grow into soon. “Goalies don’t score goals, they stop them,” he’d said, and Sid had nodded before scampering down to the basement to hit pucks at the net his dad put up as a surprise.

Sid liked scoring goals when he was young. He likes it now, too. That’s probably why he didn’t ever seriously think about going the goalie route, when he was still young enough to switch what he was playing. Goalies don’t score goals, they stop them.

Sid’s goalies, it seems, have never heard that before.

It’s a little surreal to have it happen in consecutive seasons, but Sid can’t wipe the smile from his face as he circles down to the empty net to scoop up the puck before making his way to the bench where Ned’s getting absolutely mobbed.

It’s been a tough season. Sid’s wrist is acting up, the team isn’t very good right now, and the Jarry situation left a lot of them shocked even though Sid was warned it was coming months ago if things didn’t improve. It’s nice to have something like this to celebrate every now and then.

He catches Geno’s eye through the crowd. Geno’s face is split in half with his own smile, and he’s shouting something incomprehensible as he smacks Ned’s helmet hard enough that Ned stumbles. Geno winks at him before turning to bang his stick against the boards as everyone settles down and prepares for the next shift.

The locker room is a madhouse after the final buzzer. Sid feels bad for the reporters who are congregating outside the room; the players aren’t the only people who have to catch a flight to DC for a quick turnaround tomorrow. He thinks they’ll understand a little bit of a delay while they dump water on Ned and holler over the music PO has going on the speakers.

Eventually they calm down enough to pass the game helmet. Sid leans back in his stall and looks around, soaking in everyone’s happiness as they whistle and clap when Ned tries to give a speech.

He pauses when he gets to where Geno’s sitting.

Geno’s always ready to hit the showers quicker than everyone else when he isn’t tapped for media. He doesn’t like to dawdle; the faster they get back home, or the hotel, or the plane if they’re traveling, the better. Sid knows part of it is he doesn’t like sitting in his sweaty base layers, which is more unusual for a hockey player than it probably should be.

So it’s not entirely a surprise that Geno’s already shirtless and down to the ratty, semi-translucent gray leggings he wears during every game. What is a surprise is the semi he’s sporting without an ounce of shame, legs spread as he laughs at something Ricky’s leaned over to tell him.

He must feel Sid’s eyes on him, because he swivels his head and catches where Sid’s looking. This time, his wink feels a little less ‘hey, how about our team’ and a little more like he’s trying to start something.

Sid poses for the team picture on the other side from where Geno’s sitting. Not for any reason, really. He’s not a teenager; it’s not like he’d lose his head and start groping Geno in front of the cameras. He just doesn’t want to be distracted from what the moment is about, which is congratulating Ned.

The plane is a different story.

Geno only plays cards on long flights, so it’s not unusual that he takes the seat next to Sid’s instead of continuing back to where the tables are. He doesn’t say anything as he settles in, humming to himself as he pulls out his pillow and the giant fuzzy Penguins blanket he’s been traveling with for over a decade now, pretending he doesn’t notice Sid’s eyes on him like a laser.

Good hockey games, good hockey in general, gets Sid riled up, and nobody would know that better than Geno.

Geno settles back against his seat back, cranes his neck to make sure nobody else is still walking down the plain aisle, and in one move tosses his blanket over Sid’s lap and slides his hand into Sid’s sweatpants.

“Ffff—Geno,” Sid hisses, clenching his thighs and glaring. Geno doesn’t even look at him, just fiddles with his phone with his free hand. The hand in Sid’s pants doesn’t even move, just curls around Sid’s dick and squeezes.

Sid can’t really do anything about it. If he makes a fuss, they might get heard. And he can’t exactly shove Geno’s hand away, not when it’s where it is. All he can do is sit and stare holes into the back of the seat in front of him, trying not to make a sound as his dick fills in Geno’s palm.

“Good game, yeah?” Geno says lowly, leaning close to Sid under the pretext of showing him something on his phone. Sid tears his eyes away from the seat back and stares blankly at Geno’s broken phone screen, gritting his teeth as Geno finally starts to move his hand, agonizingly slow. “You like when we get special goal, like, makes you excite.”

“I wasn’t the one with a stiffy in the locker room, buddy,” Sid mutters, clenching his thighs and choking back a groan when Geno presses his thumb into his slit. 

“No?” Geno says, sounding amused. And, well. 

“At least I still had my cup on,” Sid retorts.

Geno shrugs and slides his hand down Sid’s shaft, taking his balls in hand and squeezing them. Sid squeaks. “Boys get a show, like, it’s reward,” he says, tone as casual as though he’s talking to Sid about tomorrow’s weather. “And you like.”

“I’d like it more if you waited until we got to the hotel,” Sid says, slouching down and spreading his legs to give Geno more room. “We could do a little more if we had room, you know.”

“Yes, Sidney Crosby always wants to be on his knees when we win, I know,” Geno says, and Sid flushes hot. “You want to do here? Have time.”

Sid swallows, picturing it. If he slid to his knees under Geno’s blanket right here on the plane, peeling his pants down and letting Geno feed him his dick and hold his head down as he fucked Sid’s face. Would anyone notice? Would they stop to watch?

“Shit,” he breathes, grinding his hips up as his dick twitches. “Damnit, fuck you, we can’t do that.”

“You think about, let me get you off,” Geno orders, and Sid gives in, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as Geno works him over.

He bites down hard on his lip when he comes, hard enough that he thinks he broke skin. Worth it.

Geno wipes his hand off on Sid’s thigh, which is disgusting, but at least Sid has on boxers, so he’s able to mop up the mess without staining through his sweats. And once Sid’s caught his breath enough to look around, nobody’s looking at them. They got away with it.

The adrenaline catches up to him then, and he laughs a little, sprawling back in his chair and kicking Geno’s ankle. Geno just smirks at him, heaving himself up and back to the bathroom, presumably to wash his hands.

Sid floats for the rest of the plane ride, luxuriating in the unexpected orgasm and the thought of what he’s going to do to get Geno back once they’re in their room and safely behind a door.

Tanger eyes them both suspiciously when they finally touch down and are waiting to file off the plane, but Sid smiles blandly at him as he shoulders his bag. Kris can’t prove a damn thing.

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | squid games

Synopsis ✰ would they survive the squid games, how long, what games they fumbled, etc.

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Kaji Ren, Toma Hiragi, Mitsuki Kiryu, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw!, death mentions, squid games mentioned (obvi), mix of season 1 and 2 games, not meant to be taken seriously, squid games spoilers (no plot spoils but game spoilers), character focused, no reader mentioned (sorryyy, brief mention in kiryu’s), kind hearted!Ume, hero!nirei, choji and jo are stuck together like glue

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

☆ Sakura is a natural leader so you’d figure these games would be a breeze. they were not. he made it pretty far through but definitely struggled at the mini games challenge. most likely led a rebellion during the entire commotion. finds it stupid that everyone’s expected to follow through on these dumb games for someone else’s entertainment. he’d most likely try to save as many people as he possibly can. passes every game on a whim. definitely is the kind of player who has your heart racing at every moment as he always wins at the very last second. is most likely fucked at the glass bridge challenge. Mingle was also a struggle for him as he wanted to help everyone but also needed to help himself. definitely tried to fight a guard or two a couple times and got himself put in time out. if his friends are put into the same games he’s in he tries a lot harder to win and help them. definitely prioritizes his friends and will make sure they’re okay before he deals with his own fate. definitely gets into a bunch of screaming matches and fights with the yes voters.

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

☆ similar to Sakura where he prioritizes others over himself. he makes it to final game due to his kindness. he was helpful towards everyone and they wanted to return the favor. definitely helps out the girls and elders who got themselves caught up in this crazy situation. everyone hides behind him during red light green light due to his large figure. he doesn’t mind and encourages them to do so. if his friends are in his games he always ensures their safety. surprisingly good at ddkaji. makes many new friends and creates close connections to those around him. gets very overwhelmed and frustrated when people keep voting to continue the games. stands up for anyone who is getting pushed around or corned. 100% confronts the greedy people who are sacrificing others for the money. gets challenged to a lot of fights but is good enough to dodge all their punches causing them to just to embarrass themselves in front of everyone. lots of women feel safe around him.

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

☆ he’s such a safe space it’s unreal. he’s so gentle and kind towards everyone there. unless they’re major douche bags, he can see right through their facade. makes it past a good amount of the games. he’s skilled at many things so the games actually happened to be pretty easy for him. he can most likely win the game if it was just himself. if his friends were also there he wouldn’t get as far. not because they’re holding him back but because he cares too much about them to ever bare the idea of taking their place. definitely is the kind of soul who would sacrifice himself during the marble game if it was one of his friends he was playing with. doesn’t engage in any physical fights. he doesn’t see the point in fighting with each other, it’ll just make things worse. doesn’t mean he won’t defend himself or his friends. he only steps up if it’s one of his friends getting threatened, like Nirei. he’ll 100% stand up for him and wipe the floor with that guy.

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

☆ if he’s alone without his friends he most likely dies during the killing spree at night. he dies trying to protect the friends he’s made during the games. makes it sadder since he’ll prolly die right before the lights get turned on and before the guards can stop everything. he couldn’t bring himself to just watch as his new comrades were fighting for their lives. however, if his friends are there things go differently. they go out of their way to help him and make sure he’s okay after every round. they definitely support each other and have each others backs during the fight. poor guy has his adrenaline rush at every moment and second of the day. he probably feels like he’s having an heart attack at some times because of it. maybe he actually is. it’s possible with the amount of shock that is entering his body after every event. definitely plays more of a hero role than usual. with the way the adrenaline is always hitting him he gets more bold as the games continue. ready to put himself on the line at any moment he needs to.

Kaji Ren ᡣ𐭩

☆ probably dies within the first game ngl. his hearing has gotten so bad during all his years of blasting music into his ear drums. this makes it really hard for him to actually hear anything during red light green light. due to the robot also yelling every other second it triggers that small ringing in his ear to continue throughout the entire game. might mishear the robot and walk when he wasn’t supposed to. mutters a small “oh shit.” if Hiragi is in the game with him he most likely uses him for cover. especially after getting scolded by Hiragi to stay behind him and not to move until he does. uses others as a guide to know when to move or not. super skeptical for the rest of the games. lwk doesn’t trust anyone except his actual close friends. develops trust issues after this but survives. he can’t stand the amount of greed that can be found in the crowd at times. questions humanity altogether. will join sakura is openly arguing with the yes voters.

Toma Hiragi ᡣ𐭩

☆ he’s making it to the finals. he’s a mix of being skilled and also getting lucky. he definitely carried his team during tug of war but still felt guilty at the aftermath. his win during tug of war was more impressive as he ended up with a weaker team in comparison to the others. he felt bad for them since it looked like no one else wanted to team up with them. he probably ditched whatever group he formed to make sure they had at least someone who can help them. he for sure can be seen being visibly uncomfortable with the situation. he hates how everyone is a pawn in this incredibly sick environment. he for sure had to save Kaji a few times during the games. he tries to ease a lot of the tension. is always the one deescalating the fights whenever he can. or as much as he can. won’t throw the first punch but will help defend his friends no matter what. he definitely keeps a look out for the more weaker players. he hates to see anyone try to take advantage of them or their weaknesses.

Mitsuki Kiryu ᡣ𐭩

☆ every girl’s bodyguard ngl. he’s for sure the type to find an epic romance right in the middle of the games. not the appropriate time to persuade someone but he manages to anyway. it’s too easy for him to swoon people off their feet especially when they’re all alone during mingle and he’s taking the cutest thing he sees and running straight into a room with them hand in hand. he figures if there’s any chance of him going out during this he’s going to experience having a lover before death. he’s just a romantic at heart, he can’t help it. he’s probably really shy and slightly nervous after if both of you survive. his friends are for sure in shock at how he managed to get himself in a relationship at such a bad time. he probably gets pretty far into the games but depending on who he’s with he might not make it all the way. his best game was surprisingly glass bridge. the man’s luck is insane!

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

☆ this man is glued to Choji’s hip like crazy. He takes the games super seriously and tries his best in all of them. his best games were tug of war and the spinning top. he was surprisingly crazy at the spinning top. he was pretty familiar with most of the games due to Choji always wanting to play some whenever he was bored. the reason he’s with Choji is because he wouldn’t have even joined or found himself in this position if it wasn’t for him. Jo had a “if you do it i’ll do it.” mentality when he first agreed to participate. neither one of them had assumed it would ever be this serious. he looks fine asf in the set ngl. (SORRY NOT SORRY). he has the jacket half zipper, the sleeves slightly pushed up half way past his forearm, you can see his muscles and veins showing as they’re flexed during tug of war. honestly he doesn’t really care about anyone else there. he’s just so focused on choji’s safety he can’t bring himself to worry about others with his hands being full already. however, if Sakura and his friends are there he also cares deeply about Sakura’s safety. he’ll try to help them out whenever he can.

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

☆ he’s probably getting swung around all over the place by Togame. he doesn’t really care though he’s still enjoying himself while having his hand in Jo’s and being dragged everywhere. he’s probably laughing to himself in amusement at Jo’s efforts to protect him. unlike Jo he doesn’t take the games seriously. he has fun with them. he figures if anything happens to him he might as well should live in the moment. his favorite game was red light green light. he was definitely skipping during the green light sections. probably swinging his arms around while doing so until Jo would pull him back behind him right before it turned red. he’s always curious about what else is in store for the next event. despite having somewhat fun he never votes yes to continue the game. he gets tired of it quickly and wants to go home after like two games. he also cares a lot about Jo and finds his efforts nice. unlike jo he actually is awful at a lot of the games. despite him being the one to teach jo how to play a lot of them he’s never fully mastered any skills himself.

[chiasaaa]

— the things we do for love

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: sae has always been stoic, always appearing uncaring who only gives a shit about football. yet, his team noticed how he wears his heart upon his sleeve when it comes to you

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical and spelling errors.

— dating a football superstar only meant frequent days apart from each other, and today is much like any other. because the european league began, sae leaves for germany, the host country for the season. it has been three days since his flight, and he’s already itching for you to get your work done and fly over as soon as possible. he can’t possibly start a season without you, right?

alas, your career as one of the most successful businessmen in spain caused your delay for this year. there is much to take care of with the month of love coming up, and you’re preparing an upcoming fashion line submitting to the theme. sae didn’t want to pressure you into going. after all, fashion is your passion and soccer is his. he wished to be as supportive as you are to him, and that meant refraining from whining like a little kid when he can’t get what he wants immediately.

however, as he stared at his phone screen displaying his last message left with no response for about five hours now, he couldn’t help but feel a little down. have you been so busy that you can’t even take a quick peek at your phone?

sae put the device down the bedside table, turning his back on it in an attempt to sleep it off. that, too, led to nothing but uncomfortable shifting left and right. he can’t sleep not knowing what’s happening to you right now. you haven’t even responded to a simple “did you eat dinner yet?” question. frankfurt and madrid have the same timezone, meaning it’s just as much 23:39 as it is in madrid.

what the hell are you doing at this hour?

buzz!

barry allen just lost his title as the fastest man alive with how sae immediately turned back and snatched his phone from the table, eager to see a message coming from you.

michael kaiser: coach called us down the luxury suite.

curse his annoying narcissistic teammate for getting his hopes up.

with reluctance, sae rises from the bed and threw on a loose pair of sweatpants and his favorite sweater. given that he’s dating you who quite literally dominated the fashion industry in most european countries already, every article of clothing sae used to have were replaced by your designs. not a single one was salvaged, and he preferred it that way. it felt like he walks around with a piece of your everywhere he goes.

if you can’t always be there, your creations most certainly are.

as sae goes down the to meet at the lounge, a few soccer fans boarded the elevator with him and began striking an unwanted conversation. it’s not helping that he’s already in a sour mood because of a certain someone still missing in action. it took a lot for him to stop himself from snapping a snarky comment or two in respect of you. “be nice” in your ever-so sweet and loving voice rang in his head repetitively.

“good luck on your match tomorrow, sae!”

“let’s take a picture!”

“what do you think of tomorrow’s match? will it go well?”

he sighs, “if my girlfriend happens to magically appear, then yes, it’s a sure match.”

sae has always been open about his relationship to the public, mainly because he hates the thought of people thinking he’s still up for grabs when he’s irrevocably yours to begin with. you, thankfully, had no problem dealing with the paparazzi and thousands of interviewers going through hell on earth just to get something out of you.

after what felt like forever, the elevator opened and allowed him to step out and meet his team at the luxury suite reserved for their team meetings. it took him two knocks for the door to open, only to reveal kaiser with a smug smirk on his face.

“aren’t you punctual?”

“you called me over,” sae sighs, walking right inside to see only three more of their teammates with them, “i don’t see coach anywhere.”

“right, i might have lied about that.”

“what—“ sae turns, an string of vulgar words ready to shoot themselves right towards their annoying centre forward, when he was halted by the sight of you closing the door with a gentle smile carved upon your lips. “—the hell…”

“surprise!” you giggled, holding your arms out for him. sae didn’t need to be told twice to bolt right into your warmth, wrapping you in a tender embrace that evoked a thousand unvoiced thoughts expressing how much he missed you. “wow. we’ve only been apart for three days, querido.”

“demasiado tiempo, mi vida.” it’s too much time, my life. sae didn’t know whether or not he should be happy that you’ve finally arrived. partly happy because this is indeed a pleasant surprise, but partly not because what if something happened to you as you’re traveling and he had absolutely no idea? he would hate himself to death if something were to happen to you.

and as if you knew what he was thinking, you carefully leaned back to look into his teal hues. he can stay in that moment forever and never get sick of the sight. “i’m here, and i’m alright.”

indeed, the fact that he’s able to hold you so close to him is enough proof to ease his worries away. he should have known you’d pull things like these even after three years of dating. you always knew how to keep him wrapped around your finger.

oh, the things we do for love.

[lunaandco]

brown leather jacket

pairing: pedri x ofc

summary: after an argument, pedri sees lidia's jacket on his car. he realises he can't loose her.

taglist: @htpssgavi ; @joaosnovia

masterlist // i do not take requests

With his hair still wet from the shower and his legs numb from a tough training session, Pedri slid back into his car. He connected his phone to the Bluetooth speaker and searched through the Spotify playlists. Half of them had been designed by Lidia, in order to keep his reguetón taste and her indie pop preference merged togehter perfectly.

He clenched his jaw. He was not in the mood to listen to something that reminded him of Lidia. Hr turned on the car, and drove off the parking lot.

The argument had been brutal. It had started with the way he had slowly but surely relegated her to a second plane as the season reached the hottest part, finals starting to arrive and important games lining up.

He hadn't meant to, and had thought that kissing Lidia on the pitch, with a trophy sitting by their feet would make it all worthy, but he had not realised he might lose Lidia along the way.

Lidia had not only felt abandoned, but also paranoid. She had asked, with tears in her eyes, if he was cheating on her. Pedri had scoffed: he hadn't looked at another woman since long before they started dating, but she wasn't so sure about it.

Pedri stopped at a red light, and checked the rear mirror to see if there were any cars coming from behind. What he noticed was, in the backseat, the brown leather jacket Lidia could not live without it.

It was impregnated with her floral scent, and Pedri remembered clearly how she had worn it to their first date, paired with a short white dress that had Pedri's fingers itching to slide up the skirt.

Lidia had laughed at how flustered he looked when they met, but she had blushed, too, when he complimented her.

Pedri swallowed, and grabbed the phone he had abandoned. He put on one of the soft, romantic songs Lidia loved, and typed the direction of a fancy flower shop Gavi had recommeded.

Once the light turned green, he was a man on a mission. He was getting Lidia back, even if he had to drag himself on his knees through all the way up to Parc Güell.

[itsbells]

not like you. pt 2

here’s part 1 incase you haven’t read it

(justin herbert x madison beer) 2 povs

warnings: smut, 18+ ONLY

(pure smut. long imagine)

౨ৎ⋆ 🍒｡⋆𐙚⋆🍓.˚₊⊹♡enjoy ౨ৎ⋆ 🍒｡⋆𐙚⋆🍓.˚₊⊹♡

madison pov

the tension in this car was so heavy, it started to feel hard to breath. i looked over at justin’s hands gripping the steering wheel making his bloody knuckles turn white. when we reached a red light, he removed his right hand from the steering wheel and placed it on my thigh gripping me roughly. i put my hand on his and looked over at him as he was already staring at me then looked away. "what did he say to you?" he asked me. i knew better then to not give in. so i obeyed, "he told me to give him a chance" i said looking out the window. "a chance to what?" justin asked, still looking at the road. "a chance to prove that he’s better than you" i answered and looked over at him, seeing as he clenched his jaw. "what else?" he asked. i looked away again. "he said i was gorgeous and i shouldn’t waste my time with you and.." i paused. "and what madison?" he asked me. "..and that you don’t deserve me" i said quietly. that last part hit him hard as i felt him grip my thigh harder, making me looked down and gripping his hand harder too. "baby you know i don’t care for those types of comments" i said looking at him. he didn’t say anything and just nodded. we stayed silent after that but he kept his hand on my thigh. we reached my drive way, pulling into my garage. after he put the car in park he let go of my thigh and ran his hand over his face in what almost look like frustration. then looked over at me. i know that look. it wasn’t frustration, his eyes a dark shade of blue, filled with lust and madness. "go upstairs and wait for me in your bedroom." he said with a straight face. i stayed silent and nodded before getting out of my car and made my way inside. i couldn’t help but feel heat rush through me. between watching justin out in the field, win the game and his brawl with maxx, had me feeling so hot. again justin doesn’t get mad a lot so seeing him this way made me want to let him have his way with me, anyway he wanted.

once i got inside i almost sprinted my way to the bedroom, eager for him to come inside. as i waited for him i started to clean my room a little, not knowing how long he was going to take. as i sat infront of my vanity putting some of makeup back in it’s home place when i heard foot steps coming closer to my bedroom door then a few seconds later justin appeared in the door way before making his way over to me standing behind me. i stayed looking at him through the mirror, he leaned over me and moved my hair off my shoulder and place a few kisses on my neck , “did he hurt you?” he asked rubbing his hands on my arms. i shook my head. “use your words baby” he said then continued giving small pecks on my necks and shoulder again. “no he didn’t hurt m-me” i said my voice noticeably trembling. justin pulled away fully standing up again. “come here” he said motioning me over with his fingers, walking back and sitting on the edge of the bed. i made my way over and stood in between his legs. he gripped the back of my thigh with one hand and the other hand made it’s way up to my face holding my cheek. the tension in this room kept getting thicker and thicker, and silence was almost too unbearable. “can you tell me what happened between you and ma-“ he cut me off. “don’t say his name.” he said in a firm voice. not sure if i should continue or not. “he said something’s about you before the season started” i said causing me to furrow my eyebrows. “like what?” i asked him putting my hands behind is neck as he pulled my thigh over his lap so i startled his lap with both of his hands holding me by my hips. “doesn’t matter now” he said looking at my lips. “it does though baby it clearly bothered you a lot” i told him holding his cheek with one of my hands. he closed his eyes from a second before opening them again and looked at me, “he said if he had 5 minutes with you, you’d forget the name justin ever existed” i was about to say something but he beat me to it, “he also said you needed to be fucked right because clearly i’m not doing it, is that true baby?” he asked moving one of his hands to the back on my neck pulling me closer to his face. “am i not fucking you right?” i opened my mouth to answer but nothing came out. bad move. he flipped us so my back was on the bed and he hovered over me. “hm? i asked you a question madison. am i not fucking you the way you like? because according to crosby, im not. is that true?” he asked me again leaned down kissing my jaw and neck. i ran one of my hands through his hair, “of course you a-are j-justin” i whimpered as he left love bites on my neck. he pulled away and looked into my eyes. “of course what baby? be clear with your words” he told me, getting up sitting on his knees infront of me looking all over my clothed body. i sat up with him putting my had on his jaw, feeling bold i told him, “of course you fuck me the way i like” as soon as i finished my sentence he wasted no time smashing his lips into mine, make me moan.

he pushed me back down on the bed hovering back over me. he continued to kiss me like it was the last time he was ever going to be able to. he then started kissing down my neck, his hands making their way down to my jeans unbuttoning them. he then leaned back and pulled my jeans off then reached up to the hem of my shirt pulling it of me as well as my bra leaving me in nothing but my panties. i was almost certain i had a damp spot on them from how wet i was so i kept my legs closed. “open your legs for me baby” he told him as moved off the bed and started taking off his shirt and pants. my cheeks turning a flushed pink shade, i opened my legs but placing my hands on my heat hiding from him, feeling embarrassed at how wet i was when he hasn’t even touched me yet. he hooked my legs around his waist and hovered over me again kissing me roughly, “why are you hiding from me baby” he said against my lips, reaching down to remove one of my hands way from my heat. “i’m so fucking wet” i whimpered as he removed my other hand. he let out a small deep laugh making me shiver and sat up to get a better look at me. “oh fuck baby” he let out a satisfied sigh looking down at how damp my panties were. using one hand he started rubbing his thumb over my clothed clit, making me tremble. he hovered over me again, “so sensitive baby” he said leaning down and taking in one of my breast in his mouth. “who’s got you this wet?” he said against my breast. this man is going to be the death of me. i moaned unable to answer as he started rubbing me a little harder. he lightly slapped my thigh, "words baby, words" he said leaning up to look at me and kissed me roughly. "you justin" i moan into our kiss. he hummed and started pulling my panties to the side and leaned back to look at my sensitive heat. he let out a soft 'fuck' running his long thick fingers down my pussy, then inserting to fingers in me. i flinched and arched my back, "oh fuck" i moaned, holding onto his arm. he looked at me in awe. "is this how you liked to get fucked baby? you like when my fringers are deep in your pussy." he said looking at my pleasured face. "yes baby, i love it" i whispered and moaned as he continuied fucking me with his fingers. "hear that? hear how wet you are baby?" he said as he slowly would insert and pull out his fingers causing it to make a wet sound. "oh god." i moaned. "please baby" i said gripping his arm tighter, opening my eyes looking up at him. he continued his actions and looked up at me from my pussy. "what did i say madison? be clear with your words. tell me what you want" he told me making whimper again as he pulled out his fingers fully and rubbed them over my clit making me gasp. i let go of his arm and pulled him down to me by his neck, "please fuck me justin, i need you" i told pleaded. he smirked and gave me a sweet kiss before pulling back to remove his boxers. when we pulled them down his cock sprung up hitting his stomach. he climbed over me again, i reached down to give him a few pumps, watching as his precum oozed out making him slighlty moan. i bit my lip at the sound coming out of him. "lay back baby" he said to me. i obeyed and layed on the bed. my pussy throbbing at this point, wanting nothing more then his hard dick to be inside of me. he slowly rubbed his tip on my pussy making me to moan. moving my hips down, not wanting to wait much longer. he let out a small laugh "impatient are we?" he said smirking down at me before fully inserting himself in me. making us both moan at the contact. after he let me adjust to his size, he started thrusting himself in me.

“you like that baby?” he said as he grabbed on my legs over his shoulder making him go deeper. “y-yes so good” i moaned pulling him down by his neck to kiss him. we moaned into our kiss as he started thrusting faster and harder causing more friction. “can he fuck you as good as i am?” he asked looking into my eyes. i shook my head unable to speak again due to him fucking me like his life depended on it. he stopped all of a sudden making me whimper. “jussttin” i said pushing my hips down trying continue. he grabbed a hold of my hips stopping my movements, "i’m not going to tell you again madison. keep it up or i’ll stop” he said in a stern voice. i was taken back for a second. justin gets aggressive with his words in bed sometimes but never this much. im not complaining though.. i bit my lip trying not to smile. “he’ll never be able to fuck me like this.” i moan as he continued thrusting into me faster. “he’ll never be able to fuck me as good as you baby” i felt his cock twitch as he moaned. “fuck. tell me your mine” he said as he reached down rubbing my clit making me clench him even more. we made eye contact. “i’m all yours justin. no one else’s. i’m yours.” i felt his cock twitch again signaling he was close to cumming. i wasn’t far behind. he pulled back still thrusting into me and grab my both my legs and put them on his shoulder then leaning back down to me giving him access to go even deeper, making me arch my back. “oh god baby you’re gonna make me cum” i moaned pulling his neck down to connect our lips. he moaned into our kiss. “come for me. give me everything he can’t have” that’s was all it took, i arched my back even more, my mouth open but nothing came out, feeling overwhelmed by how much i was cumming that my body started to shake. “that’s it baby give it to me” he said to me rubbing my clit again. “oo-h my god” i said tears coming out of my eyes. with him still thrusting into me and rubbing my clit made me cum even more. “come on give me another baby” he said wrapping both his arms around my legs and started thrusting into me faster. my back in the same position, i threw my hands up above me and gripped the bed sheets but then bringing one hand down to my heat holding myself as it started to get really warm from how hard he was fucking me. i opened my eyes and looked at justin as he was already staring at me. he looked at me in awe. he smirked at me again but this time almost like he was proud to see me like this, my face filled with pleasure, knowing that he was the only one that make me feel like this, the only one can see me like this. he leaned down with my legs still on his shoulder, placing his arms in between my head holding himself up. i started clenching around him as i was about to reach yet another orgasm. i could tell justin was about to come too, as his thrust started to get sloppy. “one more baby. give me one more” he said to me. after a few more thrust we both came at the same time. my body started trembling again after two intense orgasms. “oh m-my god” i let out a satisfied sigh. he leaned down leaving kisses all over my faces then down my neck. “you okay baby? did i hurt you?” he asked while panting and rubbing his hand on my cheek. i smiled at him, “not at all baby. im okay” i said to him. he smiled at me too and leaned back, slowly pulling out from me making me wince from how sensitive i was. he rubbed my legs and kissed my inner thigh as they were still trembling a little. “god not only did i win todays game but i won at life, looking at you like this” smirking down at me. before getting up to get a towel. i laughed at his remark. he came back with the towel started cleaning me up. my legs trembled again from him wiping me off. “sorry i know you’re sensitive right now baby” he said and continued but more gentle. “s’okay baby” i smiled him. “come on let’s get you to the shower” he said help me sit so he can carry me and walk us to the bathroom as i for one was unable to walk..

after we showered, we did our nightly routine then layed in bed. i had my head on his chest with one his arms around me and the other ran up and down my leg in a soothing way. we started watching a movie before we called it a night but i felt like he was slightly still upset from what happened today at the stadium. ive been seen justin physically fight someone, not even on the field, that was really scary. before went to bed i helped him bandage up a cut he had by his eye, slightly under his eyebrow. as well as a cut he had on his knuckle. i didn’t want to ask him anything right then and there, i figured once we fully relaxed i can bring it up to him, so now i did.

justin’s pov

“are you okay baby?” i heard madison ask me as she looked up at me. i looked down at her and gave her a small smile, knowing what she meant. “i am now baby” i told her reaching up to rub her cheek. “do you wanna talk about it?” she asked me putting her hand on mine. “like when did this whole thing start? did he say anything else besides what you told me earlier?” she finished. i let out a small sigh knowing that i should tell her what’s been going on. “well in an interview he said the times he’s seen you perform, he had to stop himself from having his way with you backstage.” i paused. “and well before the game today, the way he held you and what he said to you started to got me heated even more. and well during the game he told me that everytime he sacked me, it was for you and to prepare myself because you were going to be his tonight” i said looking up at the tv, starting to get upset remembering the past events. “he kept taunting me the rest of the game but what really sent me over the edge was seeing him with you after game outside my locker room, seeing the way he pulled you back like if he owned you. fuck that” i finished. i felt her hand come up to my face pulling me down so i looked at her. “but where am i right now? i’m with you. i’m always going to be here with you. like i said before baby im all yours.” she smiled at me. i smirked down at her. “oh i know that for sure especially after tonight baby” i said reaching down pulling her leg higher over my lap bringing her closer to me then started kissing her roughly. she laughed into our kiss, “woah slow down there buddy im still super sensitive” i laughed and pulled away from our kiss. “i know baby, i know.” we looked at each other for a minutes before she said. “i love you justin. there’s nothing or no one that will ever change that” she said sincerely. “i love you too baby” i told her. she smiled before laying her head on my chest again and looked at the tv. i leaned down to kiss her head before laying my head on hers and watched the tv with her.

౨ৎ⋆ 🍒｡⋆𐙚⋆🍓.˚₊⊹♡the end ౨ৎ⋆ 🍒｡⋆𐙚⋆🍓.˚₊⊹♡

should i do a part 3..?

[dramaticurge]

i think arcane isn't copaganda, i think it says ACAB too.

i think the show itself has many layers, and that the acting, writing, and storytelling do a lot to tell different angles of different stories.

i think arcane acknowledges police brutality and the struggles of systemic oppression. i think it says ACAB, but it asks you to seperate from a moment, and asks you to look at it through the lens of understanding. not for forgiveness, but so you can maybe try and see why people do bad things, even if they're bad, and even if they're good. the show asks you to set aside your biases, to look at this world for what it is. parallels and all.

and i understand that caitlyn's role and ending make it swem glorifying cops in a way. even when it's something she actively disagreed against, even when in the first season she was trying for a middle ground and was the only one trying for a middle ground.

and not to be too woke, but the triple K caitlyn jokes were never that funny to me. nor were the ideas that she was racist. arcane is a beautiful show that does not burden it's characters with racism and oppression in that way- and you should definitely not erase caitlyn's asian ethnicity. between her and jinx, jinx is the white woman. its so irresponsible to read into the racial aspect of this side of the arcane storyline, the story is making it clear that is not something these characters face, and they shouldn't have to face to justify things like oppressive militia. caitlyn isn't fully white. do not dilute her.

kind of related to that thought, too, is the fact that no one living in america is a zaunite. most americans will remain as pilties, because systemic oppression will sometimes really just be how you were born.

back to it, i also just think arcane shows police brutality for what it is. that type of oppression. it invites you to dislike caitlyn's actions, because caitlyn dislikes her actions, and all this type of oppression leads to is to pointless, senseless, and violent war. a war they should've lost. a war they would've lost.

the scene where steb takes off his hat in respect to zaunites is him respecting that they decide to help, when if it were the other way, it would be unlikely. piltover would never help zaun, and he knows that, and everyone knows that. no one wins in war. no one wins via violence. the show knows this, and when it shows the side characters who we know had so much more life left ahead of them is when it acknowledges that systemic brutality has led to deaths of innocent people. that in a search for power, or for revenge, that they will eat themselves alive by their hubris. an eye for an eye, in caitlyn's case, who tipped the scales too far.

and the show asks you to look at this and the show makes caitlyn face this. the show does not agree with caitlyn once. but the show asks you to never defend her actions, but to look at her and understand why.

i think it asks you to look at the system, but to understand the characters. the people. because we often, in many stages of analysis, forget about people. in the broadest sense, these people are wrong, but it makes you deconstruct the complicated nature of why, and asks you not to dilute them in fear that you'd smudge the intricacies that make them up.

ACAB, even if they're sorry about it, and even if they've got a family. ACAB is systemic.

but good stories include layers, and ACAB is not without possibilties for something different. not critique, but in the same vein. ACAB is true, but it does not mean by exploring the complicated nature of why's, how's, etc that they are copaganda.

putting aside those ideas for the sake of looking at why their flaws can encompass them, and for the sake of understanding the type of world this is is important to. maybe for the sake of love, people do these kinds of things, and there isn't making up mistakes. just living with them.

|||

ofc this is just my opinion and something that's been bugging me for a bit... i genuinely dont hate anyone in arcane. i hate that in terms of discrouse, we've diluted these characters down to our preconceived biases. i hate that we seem to be arguing over morality.

maybe its just obvious though that i spend a lot of time on arcane twt. curious about people's thoughts... if anyone even sees this...

[zirafail]

he’s so bf coded in s7 and you can’t disagree!! kochanski babes you’re missing out!!

[dungbeatposse]

the amount of mental trauma boboiboy has is astounding.

kid has never catch a break since the day he got his power watch, especially with the weight of the whole galaxy on his shoulders, and the amount of times the descendants of the first elemental users have seen boboiboy as their ancestors AND retakka… yikes…

i’m glad he’s deciding to stay on earth for the time being, lord knows he needs it 😭😭😭

he has yet to get the all third stage elementals, and also i would like to see the origins of the others’ powers too. i think it’d be interesting to see where yaya’s, ying’s, gopal’s and fang’s powers came from.

so we’ll see how that pans out (hopefully my boy’s gonna go clock in with the tapops psychiatrist before he does any shenanigans)

can’t wait for boboiboy galaxy season 3~~

[rolandkaros]

not pitting sincaraz against each other just pointing out an objective truth that jannik was not a dominate player/potential grand slam winner last season (age 21/22) and carlos will finish this season semi-dominant and with two more grand slams (+ an olympic medal) (age 20/21). you can see how quickly a player's career can turn around within one season. so any talk about carlos being washed/playing badly sounds silly to me i can't lie. yes carlos wasn't as successful this year as last year. yes carlos wasn't as successful this year as jannik. last year jannik's highlights were throwing up in a trash can and beating djoko in davis cup (exaggerating.) so i really feel like carlos's struggles this season are slightly overinflated. we talk about "he has time he has time" let's be clear not only does he have time in his career (he is literally 21) he also has time on his closest current rival (age-wise, carlos's 2024 season is jannik's 2022 season). it will be two years before carlos is even the same age as jannik is now. so like. lets be chill here u know.

[thats-my-passion-right-there]

I finally saw the mean girls musical (the movie one) I have so many fucking thoughts oh my god

[alwayshappyhoursomewhere]

Cup of China 2023 - Adam Siao Him Fa and Shoma Uno during the men’s victory ceremony

[thetangibleghost]

I gotta confess it is so much more fun talking to Sal as if he is a separate person like he wants and not a member of the system. He's super creative like. Its just fun.

[gyaruhana]

Hey could you write the frontman smut, I need that man it's not even funny, yk the chair/sofa he always sat on in S1, when watching the game? Imagine cockwarming him there while he's praising us...

Frontman/Hwang In-ho - Cockwarming

Synopsis: Cockwarming your husband as he watches the games

A/N: This is a short little piece but I hope it's good anyway.. Ty for the frontman request bc he spoke to me in season 2..

Warnings: Cockwarming,

To many, the frontman was a reserved man who is not to be crossed. He’s been responsible for the death of many people - whether at his own hands or the hands of the guards that work for him. Not a lot is known about him among the people who work for him other than the fact he has a very pretty wife. You.

It was no secret that he would not tolerate any disrespect towards you. Some have had to learn that lesson the hard way. He’d always make a point of making sure no harm comes to you by warning people of the dire consequences that come with endangering you. It was all out of love for you, of course. He only wanted to keep you safe from the dangers of his deadly work. That’s why he was always nearby. Like right now.

The first game was about to begin and he was relaxed in his chair in the dark room as he watched the screen. You were on his lap making sure to keep still so as not to bother him. Otherwise, he’d likely deliver some sort of punishment. His cock was buried deep inside of you but he paid little attention to how your hole was squeezing his cock. He was too focused on making sure the first game goes according to plan. Everything needed to be in order so the VIP’s could have something entertaining to watch and keep paying for more.

“You’re being so good for me - keeping so still like this,” he spoke as he moved a hand to your hair and began to gently brush his fingers through in a soothing motion. He knew how hard it was for you to stay still when all you wanted was for him to start fucking into your tight hole. However, good things only come to those who wait so he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted just yet. 

His eyes stayed on the screen as he watched people start to drop dead like flies. It never got old to watch the panic on people’s faces when they realised their lives were at stake. He reached over to the table beside him and grabbed his glass that contained whiskey before gently spinning the glass around for a moment. He then took a sip out of the glass before turning his attention to you.

Teasingly, he thrusted up gently to force a reaction out of you. “You really need it, huh? You’re squeezing me so tightly,” he said with a small smirk. He put the glass back down before putting both his hands on your hips. “Just be a good girl and wait a little longer. I know you won’t disappoint me,” he spoke again as he firmly held your hips down to keep you completely still.

He looked back towards the screen and continued to watch the death game. He could hear your shaky breaths in his ear as you became impatient. He found it amusing to see his dear wife be so desperate for his cock to fuck into her with reckless abandon. Well, he’d give you what you wanted soon. As long as you just sat still on his cock like the good wife you are.

“Such a good wife for me, hm?

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.

author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)

“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.

“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far. 

also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.

you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.

“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”

satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”

“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.

“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”

“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”

satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”

you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.

“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”

“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”

satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”

“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.

so you decide to bide your time.

“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”

“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”

“well, it worked.”

he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”

you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission. 

satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”

“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much. 

“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”

you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”

satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”

at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.

“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”

“thought you liked your girls feisty.”

“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.

“what the fuck?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.

“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.

satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”

oh, fuck it.

“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?

as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”

yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.

which, for tonight, includes you.

“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.

satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”

within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact. 

“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”

“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?

“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.

“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”

“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”

although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.

and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense. 

“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.

“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”

soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”

you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?

the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.

“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.

satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.

“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.

“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.

“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.

he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.