#u can literally see the gears turning

[igbeh]

Oliver's face when he sees the estate for the first time

[nereidprinc3ss]

trolley problem

in which fem!reader has been gambling with her life and spencer reid is more than a little concerned

flangst, hurt/comfort warnings/tags: passive suicidal ideation from reader, she keeps risking her life, that really grinds Spencer’s gears, established relationship, existential dread, existential euphoria, lots of stuff about grief and death and self worth, not advocating for this, pretension from the author, blasphemy probably?, reader gets fuzzy from prescribed painkillers, arguing, hospital stuff, mention of sleep paralysis involving spiders, reader gets shot but she’s fineee, I pander to intro to philosophy takers, bau!reader, neurodivergent coded reader, if she’s not exactly like you I’m sorry, bean soup a/n: one day you’re in a writing slump literally the next you are in your notes app for six hours writing whatever the fuck this is but I think I love it even tho it’s weird and I hope u like it too!! btw this was gonna be called cotard's syndrome but then I never once talk abt cotard's but if u care that might be interesting context for the motif of not feeling human/alive, WC 3K

Spencer hasn’t spoken to you since the doctor left the room five minutes ago. 

The air is antiseptic as you take it deep into the hollows of your lungs and trap it there for a moment, trying to optimize oxygen intake without actually having to breathe very often. Hospital smell is as universal as it is suffocating. It reeks of everything but death—flowers, blood, bleach, vomit. A humiliating, desperate scramble to defy the very thing that defines mortality. It’s pathetic. It reminds you of the worst instances of failure and loss and denial in your life. It curdles your blood. Literally rots you from the inside out. 

You’ve had ample time to ponder that smell over the last few months because you keep ending up here, and some time ago you decided the institution of the hospital is inherently absurd. It’s stupid to think you could avoid the one absolute condition on your corporeal form: impermanence. It is the only thing that is promised, and people still waste their lives away running from it. It is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy. 

So around the time you acknowledged that hospitals are simply monuments to the self-importance of man, you gave up on trying too hard to preserve yourself. You’ve seen death too much and too often. You’ve tried staving it off with prayer and the miracles of modern medicine, and it never matters in the end because it’s all magical thinking anyway. All the wallowing and the bargaining and pleading never got you anywhere. 

You’ve accepted that from the moment you were born, you were marked for death. 

But you’re not a complete nihilist. You’re not even totally resigned to the abject certainty of death—because you’ve found a loophole.

Everyone has as many chances at escaping death as other people are willing to offer them at the cost of their own lives. Not many people are willing to make that trade—someone else’s life for their own—but you’ve decided you are. Because if not you, then who?

It’s not that you don’t see the value in your own life, as Spencer keeps making it sound. It’s just the opposite. You understand that you’ve got an extremely valuable resource, and you don’t just have to sit on it. There are things you can do. Choices you can make. Ways to defy death. 

Just… not yours. 

Or maybe you’re just in deep denial. 

Either way—this is a philosophy your boyfriend intentionally refuses to understand. He gets mad, or some kind of upset, every time you try to explain it. Usually he ends up leaving the room close to tears. You never feel good about it.

Right now he’s presumably trying to give you the silent treatment and not doing a very good job. 

“Stop holding your breath. Why are you—stop that.”

Spencer’s frowning, skin sallow and milk-blue under fluorescent lighting. Purple seeps from around his eyes like spilled wine on a white table cloth. Your stomach turns. 

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t tell you not to apologize. You don’t expect him to. 

“Why are you doing that? Does something hurt?”

Other than your entire bicep being on fire due to the 9 millimeter Luger it recently came into contact with?

“Not really. I just don’t like the smell of hospitals.”

At that, he gets stony again. Like, Medusa stony. You feel a tightening in your chest that has nothing to do with a lack of air. His arms are crossed. A silk lined blazer drapes over your lap, and you wonder if he’s cold in just that white button up. It’s translucent in this light, like onion skin, or maybe something less organic—the folds and wrinkles look like fabric, but lots of things look like something they aren’t. In the Pietá, Jesus lounges dead on his mother’s lap, his cheek pressed to her arm like either of them have warm flesh, and her skirts drape from her knees and fall to the ground in delicate folds just like Spencer’s jacket and looking at pictures of it you swear you could find comfort there too—but if you wanted to make space for yourself next to Jesus you’d have to do it with a chisel and mallet. You’re starting to think that’s what it’s going to take with Spencer, as well. 

“So stop walking into active gunfire. You’ll spend a lot less time here.”

Every deep sigh (of which there have been several) calcifies you further. Ironically, you never feel less alive than you do in a hospital. 

“I didn’t walk into active g—”

“I’m not debating it with you. It’s not a discussion.”

“So you’re just going to be pissed at me for the rest of forever? I mean, if it’s not a discussion—what are you gonna do? Break up with me?”

You feel yourself dripping poison in the well. Even as you say it. As his head tilts toward you slowly and intently from his spot against the wall, and his warning gaze is cold and unforgiving and weighs 3.35 tons.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Talk?”

“Don’t try and manipulate me by implying that there are no options between permissiveness and dumping you!”

“I’m not manipulating you. And I don’t need your permission to do anything.” 

The first part is an incredulous scoff as well as a blatant lie. You are manipulating him. Chisel and all. At least, you were trying to. It clearly doesn’t work very well. His jaw clenches.  

“Is this worth it to you? Fighting with me like we’re children solely so you don’t have to take accountability?”

“Accountability for what? I made a choice. I don’t regret it. You’re upset because I did my job.”

A beat. 

Silence always makes you feel the gravity of your words. 

“Do you believe that?”

His voice softens so much, so quickly, it splinters down the middle. 

You’ve never been known for your light touch. For someone who sees eviscerated bodies nearly every day, and prides herself on her evolved understanding of mortality, you often forget other people are not, in fact, impenetrable marble—they are flesh and blood and bone, and you’ve splattered yourself in the evidence of that. 

“What?” You murmur. You easily turn timid, when you’re afraid you’ve been too heavy-handed. Spencer’s seen you sob over the birds who hit the windowpane and never reappeared from the shrubbery—their delicate wings, their little beaks—he didn’t mean to, Spencer, and now he’s dead! He’s seen you spend forty minutes catching a spider with a cup and an envelope rather than smush it, even though you have reoccurring episodes of sleep paralysis wherein a giant arachnid is sitting on your chest, hissing and clacking its pincers. He knows you are, at your core, kind and good. 

It’s a little scary for someone to know that about you. It’s a little scary when you see your own vulnerability reflected in their eyes and the way they speak to you, the way you see it in him now. 

“Do you believe that the choices you make regarding your safety don’t concern me at all?”

“They’re… my choices to make,” you whisper, but you’re less sure than you were a minute ago. 

“I’m not talking about that—I’m talking about how it feels like you are trying to kill yourself every time we’re in the field.” His voice shakes. You swallow. “You have been hospitalized for four serious injuries sustained on the job in the past five months. Every time I bring it up, you—you talk about life like it’s optional for you. Like you’re not only willing to give it up but are actively looking to throw yourself in harm’s way every chance you get. You think that doesn’t terrify me?”

There’s a small chip in the paint on the wall next to him roughly the shape of Africa. 

“It’s not like that. I’m… I’m just having an unlucky streak.”

He snaps. 

“Luck isn’t going to get between you and a bullet. Ever.”

“It’s my job, Spencer.”

“No. It is a risk of the job. Not a defining feature or requirement. But you keep running toward gunfire like you have a quota to meet.”

“Spencer, I’m not doing it at you. I’m not trying to get myself hurt.”

“Well it doesn’t really feel like you’re trying to avoid it, either,” he shoots back immediately, and you feel the anguish radiating from him until it lodges in your own chest, like it was always yours. Maybe it was. 

You want to make it better, but you don’t know how, and even if you did, he’s pushing off the wall and crossing the room toward the door. 

“Where are you going?” You call, a little too desperately for your liking. 

“You need to eat something.”

Which translates roughly to he’s pissed and upset and he needs to leave the room. You’ve done this song and dance before. 

However, food and an absence of him are contenders for the absolute last two things you want right now. 

“Spencer, please don’t—”

But the door is already whooshing closed. 

You stare at the grey and white checkered floor. Light bounces off the waxen reflection—some sort of parallel universe you can’t reach, perhaps. The whole room is desaturated. A mechanical humming threatens to drive you insane. It doesn’t feel like a place for living humans. You’re not convinced you are one. 

When he comes back, maybe ten minutes later, nothing’s moved at all. In fact you’re not even sure you’ve been breathing. 

The door closes as quietly as it opens. 

This time, wordlessly, Spencer comes to you. You see his shoes first—his serious adult shoes. You wish he was wearing his Converse. 

Then you see the bottle of apple juice he’s cracking open for you. Blue lid. Same kind you always get. 

“You didn’t bring food.”

“You wouldn’t have eaten it.”

Fair enough. 

You take the bottle with your good arm and sip shallowly—all that adrenaline and the subsequent interpersonal strife has left you nauseous. The drink is too sweet. It clashes with the tang of metal in your mouth. 

Still, you drink enough to satisfy him, and then you’re tossing his jacket aside before balancing the bottle between your thighs so you can screw the lid back on. He doesn’t go back to the couch or his spot on the wall. 

Spencer doesn’t pull away when you lean into him, but it does take him a moment to reciprocate. You’re still grateful all the same when he cradles the back of your head to his stomach like you’re made of porcelain. 

“I don’t think you understand how upset I am,” he says quietly. 

Only Spencer Reid could be furious with you and still hold you like this. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“That’s not good enough. You need to stop risking your life like that.”

He doesn’t get it. Your brows flutter as they try to furrow but even holding that expression saps you. Maybe the pain meds are finally kicking in. 

“I just wanna help people.”

“That doesn’t explain to me or justify your urge to do it at the cost of your own life. We all want to help people, angel. The whole team. That’s why we do what we do. But we don’t run into shootouts. We don’t split off and provoke people with guns when we’re unarmed and unprepared.”

“But it worked. She got away.” You feel a spark of fulfillment at the memory of Gloria Sanchez in JJ’s arms just before the ambulance doors had slammed you into your first cage of the night. 

“We don’t know if he was going to kill her. He might not’ve fired at all if you didn’t go running toward him. That wasn’t strategic, it was reckless and irresponsible and you know that. I know you do. So something else is going on.”

The pressure in your nose that usually precipitates tears comes as a surprise. 

“I just—if that’s how I can save someone, why shouldn’t I, you know? Why do they have less of a right to live than I do just because they’ve been deprived of the choice? If I have a choice, and they don’t, I should choose to… to help them. That’s my job.”

For a long moment, you listen to your own breath, muffled by Spencer’s shirt, and the mechanical humming, and something dripping, and the low, buzzy chatter of nurses far down the hallway.

When Spencer next speaks you get the sense he’s holding a lot back. His voice is taut enough it wavers slightly. Taut enough that if he weren’t speaking so quietly he might be yelling. It’s like pinpricks all over your body—not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you’re paying attention. 

“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Do you understand me?”

And yes, in theory, you do. But that doesn’t negate your original point. It only takes one life or death moment for you to utilize the most valuable resource you have. What happens after is no longer your concern. 

“On the psych evals you helped develop it asks if you think it’s appropriate to sacrifice the one to save the many. The answer is supposed to be no. If you say yes you get flagged. The FBI frowns upon… lever-pullers. And that’s exactly what I’m doing if I let one person die when I could’ve potentially saved them.”

“Protecting your own life is not pulling the lever. What you’re doing isn’t smart or morally righteous. You’re just throwing yourself across the tracks, too. If you were to fail a psych eval right now it would be because you’re passively suicidal. And you know what? The FBI also tends to frown upon self-immolative delusions of grandeur and girls who like to play sacrificial lamb.”

“’M not a… sacrificial lamb…”

“No,” Spencer agrees quietly, stroking your hair. “You’re not.”

And you can’t react to the fragility in his voice, or the content of his words, and the fact that when he says it he means something different—you can’t do anything about it. You can only catalogue it. You can only know that he loves you, and feel a little guilty about it.

Some time passes. You don’t know how long he remains standing so you can doze against him. He does not smell like the hospital. He’s the antidote for whatever grief they distill from widows and orphans before aerosolizing it through the whole place. 

“Baby?” He asks eventually. You know the lilt of it. He’s been thinking. 

“Hm?”

He hesitates. 

“Can we talk about you maybe taking some time off of work?”

“You heard the boss,” you mumble. “I can’t come in for at least a week.”

“I mean beyond that.”

You intend to respond, but by the time you open your mouth you’ve lost the prompt in all the brain fog. 

“You’re so comfy,” you murmur dreamily. “Thank you for being mad at me.”

If he responds, you miss it. 

You’re imagining the bed waiting for you at home, once the doctor is done observing you—warm, neatly made. Blankets woven with soft fibers. A mattress that will sink under your weight. You think of Spencer, who’s shaping himself to you, Spencer, who intentionally inhales when you exhale at night to make room for the rise and fall of your chest against his. You think of the imprint of his buttons on your cheek. You are both flesh and blood and bone. 

Strange, pill-induced half dreams and visions and memories take over. You’re in that alleyway again. That man fires. You don’t blink or scream or feel. 

Just before the bullet makes contact you’re standing in front of the Pietá. It’s massive. Spencer is there, too, holding your hand. 

You can’t actually see him, only, you know he’s there. You feel his warmth, his presence, when he leans over to whisper in your ear. The way you know him goes beyond sight. 

The Pietá—meaning the pity, in English—is 6’7” and six feet wide. It weighs 6,700 pounds. Michelangelo had to quarry the block of marble himself. He was only 25 when he finished. The Basilica keeps it behind bulletproof glass. 

Jesus and Mary behind bullet proof glass. 

God. Who’d try to kill Jesus a third time? He’s already dead. 

Besides—they’re both made of stone. Bullets would probably just ping right off of them. Or maybe they’d shatter just like you did. 

Probably not though. You’re not actually made of marble. You’ve no idea what it feels like to be a statue and get shot at. You sure know how it feels as a human, though—and it feels like shit. You don’t really know why you keep doing it. None of your reasons are good enough for Spencer, and he’s, generally speaking, pretty smart about some things. 

Maybe you’re tired of being human.

Maybe you’re tired of sleeping on your arm funny and waking up to a hand in your bed that doesn’t feel like yours and remembering all the hands you’ve held moments before they couldn’t hold yours back. Or tired of those moments where you are being held and it’s so unbelievably perfect and then someone has to let go, or when someone you love hugs you goodbye and you realize that there will always be a final I love you, or simply getting older and watching potential life paths fall away like rotten fruit to the ground. Maybe life is sometimes so good it hurts and you can’t bear it. So you tempt fate. You walk a tightrope because even if you fall and it can’t ever feel good again—at least it can’t hurt either. At least you won’t lose anymore. 

And yet. 

It does feel good, sometimes. Sort of often, actually. Even when it’s awful. 

Dead Jesus and Mary, with their marble skin and their bulletproof glass and their holiness and their virginity and all the other things they have that you don’t. Nobody can hurt them anymore. Not ever. 

Maybe that’s something you envy.

But you doubt they’ve ever been so terribly, wonderfully alive as you’ve been, or as comfortable as you are like this, leaning into Spencer’s warmth and his softness, in the hospital, or the Vatican, or your dreams. Your bicep was ruined but it’s healing. You are capable of ruin and rebirth in the same lifetime. In the same day, in the same hour. 

You doubt that in 520 years, behind bulletproof glass and unyielding, eternally flawless skin, they’ve ever felt as invincible as you do now. 

You doubt they ever could. 

[javierpena-inatacvest]

A Little Longer

Summary: Frankie promises to give you what you ask for... but only if you can play by the rules of his game

Word Count: 2.4K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), this is literally porn with no plot WHOOPS, cockwarming, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), cum eating, breeding kink (just really wanting to cum inside- no implications of wanting to get pregnant but use your imagination if you so choose because you know I will🙂 edging, overstimulation (if u squint), praise kink, size kink, feral Frankie, but also sweet soft baby boy Frankie 😭🥺

A/N: Ovulation demons are at it again!!! 🤠 Idk what to tell y'all, this came to me (quite literally whoops) and I couldn't rest until my thots were written down! I know Joel won the voting poll for this one, but honestly it just screams Frankie 😩 Everyone clap for Madeline as she writes something that isn't an explicit pregnancy breeding kink!!!!

Frankie was never the type of guy to spend his Sundays glued to the TV, watching whatever NFL game was on just for the sake of staying up to date on the sports world.

So when you found him in the living room, lounged and sprawled out across your couch with football on in the background, you were sure that now was just as good of a time as any to suggest you spend the rest of your lazy afternoon in a much more enjoyable way for the both of you.

"How much longer until the game is done?" You cooed, crawling into Frankie's lap, straddling your legs across his hips and tracing your fingers up and down the worn cotton of his t-shirt.

"'Bout halfway. Why?" Frankie smirked, the half hard bulge growing in his sweatpants revealing he knew damn well why you had asked.

"Because, I have a game I'd rather play that's much better than football." You teased, leaning down to trail soft kisses along his neck and jaw, subtly grinding your hips down into his.

"Yeah? and what game would that be, quierda?" Frankie's smirk only grew wider, lust pooling in the warmth of his brown eyes as his hands roamed to grope your ass, kneading the plump flesh in his grasp.

"My favorite game. The game where you put your dick inside me."

The two of you couldn't help but giggle despite the palpable tension brewing between you, a desperate and hungry need filling the air as Frankie's grip tightened, feeling you sink your weight over the full blown erection tenting his pants.

"That is a good game," Frankie chuckled, looking up at you with a concentrated furrow in his brow, seeing the gears turn in his mind as his eyes locked with yours. "I'll play. But-"

"But what, Frankie?" You asked, titling your head in confusion at his pause.

"But... We get to play by my rules."

At this point, Frankie's subtle smirk had shifted to a full blown devilish grin, leaving you wondering what kind of ideas he had managed to concoct in regards to your proposal.

"And what rules would those be, Franke?" You mewled, playing along as you traced your fingers along the edge of his waistband, tugging it down just enough to expose the happy trail running down the lower half of his stomach.

"I'll put my dick in you... But I'm not fucking you until the game is done."

You froze in your tracks, the unsure scrunch of your face acting as a silent ask to figure out if Frankie was being serious or not. The sudden shift in the tone of his voice now humming deep in his chest with a hungry desire, made it very clear that his suggestion was more than sure.

"If you want me to fuck you, rules are that you keep me inside you until the game is finished. But you can't move, can't touch yourself, and can't cum 'till I say."

You could already feel the slick starting to pool in the cotton of your underwear from anticipation and excitement, heart pulsing in your chest and cunt at the prospects of Frankie's idea. Because if there was one think Frankie knew about you, it was that you'd never turn down a challenge. And more importantly, you hated losing. So who would you be to deny him a chance to challenge him at his own game?

"You're on, Morales."

It had started off easy- sweet, even- Frankie spooning behind you, gently sliding his cock into your pussy, ass resting against his hips as your bodies melded together, snuggling on the couch.

He had even eased you into it, taking the first part of the 3rd quarter after half time had finished to stretch you out slowly, starting with just the tip notching between your folds and into your heat, sinking himself deeper inside you every few minutes to let you adjust to his size.

Even with how worked up you were, with half of Frankie's length now resting inside you, your confidence in making it another quarter and a half still abiding by Frankie's rules didn't seem too far out of reach.

But then again, you weren't expecting Frankie to play dirty, either.

Suddenly, Frankie was foregoing his subtle pace, trailing hot, wet kisses along your neck as he pushed himself fully inside you, filling you to the brim as his tip nestled against your cervix. A pathetic whimper escaped from your parted lips, catching your breath while your pussy pulsed around his length, feeling Frankie's smug grin pressed against your shoulder between his kisses.

"Oh f-fuck, Frankie!" You moaned, the sweet sting of his stretch already making your eyes roll to the back of your head, trying with everything in you to keep yourself composed.

"There ya go, princesa. Tight little pussy always takes me so well, doesn't she?" Frankie cooed almost mockingly, the hot breath of his words dancing against your skin between sucking at your pulse point. "Gotta relax, baby girl. Still have a ways to go before the game's over."

You took a long inhale in, glancing at the game clock in the bottom corner of the TV frame, finding the small box that read "3rd Quarter- 6:37" and doing some quick calculations in your head.

6 minutes left of this quarter and 15 minutes in the next. Plus game breaks and commercials? You could pull yourself together enough to make it through that without falling apart? Can't be that much longer, right?

For the average person watching football, you were right.

But to you, with Frankie's cock buried in your pussy, painstakingly teasing you to the point of near tears, you were convinced that you were watching the longest football game ever played in the history of mankind.

After sinking his full length to your hilt, Frankie had become relentless. It started off just like he had before, the intensity of his teasing amping up little by little with each minute that passed.

It began with the kisses on your neck, slowing trailing up and down your warm skin, whispering sweet praises into your ear. The tickle of the scratchy hairs from his beard making you shiver in delight, wishing it was buried between your legs, scratching the inside of your thighs as he ate you out instead of your neck.

Next, came his hands, palms that were once innocently splayed across your stomach now reaching under your shirt to palm at your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp, fingertips gently rolling your pebbled nipples, tweaking the hard buds with just enough pressure that his other hand was holding your hips firmly in place to keep you from grinding against him and taking any more than he gave you.

If both of those weren't enough, the final straw was when the hand lazily groping at your breasts snaked down your front, finding its way to your clit, puffy and aching from its time spent untouched while Frankie's cock lay stiff and full inside you.

At this point, you were absolutely soaked, every inch of your bottom half drenched in your arousal as you leaked around Frankie's length, the pads of his fingers sliding over your sensitive and slippery bundle of nerves with unspeakable ease. Even though he had barley but any pressure over your clit, just the ghosting of his fingertips was enough to make you sob, desperate to chase your high after what felt like hours of Frankie teasing you with his cock.

"Oh my god, F-frankie, fuck- please, baby. P-please touch me." You begged, pathetically whimpering as his fingers traced through your drenched folds, his strong grip holding your hips in place to keep you from pushing your ass deeper into his hips for some sort of relief.

"Shhhhhh, I know, baby. But you can't cum yet, remember? If I touch you, you gotta be a good girl and follow the rules of the game." Frankie smirked, teasing you as his fingers lazily collected your slick, purposefully circling them everywhere but your clit.

"I won't, I promise, p-please, Frankie. P-please."

Giving into your plea, Frankie dragged his fingers up your cunt, making you cry out as he finally began to rub slow circles against your throbbing bundle of nerves, the mix of temporary relief and painful ache to cum making you clamp down around Frankie's cock, wetness gushing from your core.

It was taking everything in you to fight the urge to collapse, biting down so hard on your lip you were convinced it might bleed as you felt the pleasure begin to build in you. Unfortunately for you, Frankie had spent enough time memorizing every twitch and tug of your body beneath his that he knew your tell tale signs, pulling his fingers away to the sounds of your ragged moans.

"Frankie, n-no, fuck- please, baby. I need more, pleasepleaseplease."

"Fuck, you're so pretty when you beg. I know, quierda, but not yet. There's still 4 minutes left in the game. 4 minutes left and then I'll fuck you. Fuck you with my tounge, my cock, I'll make you cum so many times you won't be able to walk straight. But not until this tight little pussy is so wet and ready for me that she can take everything I have to give."

With the way Frankie's filthy mouth was spewing, he might as well be fucking into you at full force, his words shooting straight to your core, fingers digging into your couch cushions for any sort of relief you could get.

"F-Frankieeeee-" His name was the only thing your mind could comprehend enough to get out, practically panting as the sheen of sweat began to dampen your forehead.

"You're doing so good for me, baby girl. I know you can take it." Frankie praised, scooping his hand under your jaw to turn your face towards him, cradling your cheeks in his grasp to force your lips to his, colliding mouths muffling the moans escaping from you.

You were practically drunk off pleasure at this point, trying your best to fight off a dizzying high as you watched the clock wind down at a painstaking pace, your heart skipping a beat as you saw the clock shift to count down from only one minute left.

"Less than a minute left, Hermosa. Think you can make it?" Frankie cooed, his fingers creeping back down to circle your clit, sending a jolt through your body as he rubbed at the slippery and soaked bundle of nerves.

The best you could do was nod your head, too far gone for any words as your cunt clamped tighter and tighter around him, so wet that you were more than positive you'd be cleaning stains of your puddles of slick out of your couch tomorrow.

Looking back at the TV, you were down to 12 seconds left, the winning team already celebrating their inevitable victory, hoping that it would be enough for Frankie to give in and finally fuck you.

"F-fuck me, Fransisco, please. Please, baby, wanna cum around your cock so bad." You whined at a pathetic pitch, pleading with Frankie to give you what you had been so desperate for.

You could hear the sigh of relief as the game clock finally wound down to :00, sensing an immediate shift in Frankie's demeanor as the game came to a close.

"Oh thank fuck this game is done." Frankie groaned, flipping you over onto your back and caging his body over yours, colliding your mouths in a messy dance of tongues and teeth.

While he may not have said it, Frankie was just as wound up as you, the warm and wet walls of your cunt soaking him for the better part of an hour driving him absolutely feral, using every ounce of self-restraint to keep from accepting defeat at his own game.

"Wanted to fuck you so bad, quierda. Do you know how hard it was not to give into you, baby? Not to hear those pretty moans and not fuck this perfect pussy. You did so good for me, so good that I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Gonna fill you up so full of me, I'll be dripping out of you for days."

Frankie sat back, throwing your legs over the width of his broad shoulders, leaning into you so that your thighs pressed against your stomach, stretching you open even further than you thought you could as he began to punch into you at a punishing pace.

His cock rammed against your g-spot, the sounds wet squelching from his length dragging in and out of your soaking heat, balls slapping against your ass and lewd moans had your living room sounding like it was straight out of a porn scene

"Fuckfuckfuck- Frankie- don't stop, baby. Don't stop." You sobbed, Frankie barley 10 strokes in before you could feel the coil in your belly beginning to tighten, so worked up from waiting for this moment that you were about to cum embarrassingly fast.

"Not gonna stop, hermosa. Lemme feel it, baby. Did so good for me. Cum all over my cock. Wanna feel you soak me. Wanna feel you before I fuck myself so deep inside of you."

“Ohmygod- oh Frankie, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It only took a few more strokes and the curly hairs at the base of his shaft rubbing against your clit to send you over the edge, your pent up orgasm crashing through you so hard, you were conviced that you were levitating in pure ecstasy. Every inch of your body was trembling with pleasure, gushing around Frankie’s cock as you came, your velvety walls choking his length as he relentlessly continued to fuck into you, ready to chase his own high.

“That’s my good girl. Let go, baby. Cum all over me. Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good.” Frankie groaned, admiring you as you rode out your orgasm, jaw slack and mouth hanging open in a perfect “O”, your glossed over eyes and blissed out expression finding a way to drive him even more wild.

Reaching between your legs, Frankie’s fingers found your clit, making you cry out from how sensitive you still were, barely finished cumming before he was already on his way to doing it again.

“Frankie, it’s too- fuck- too much. Oh my god, shit-“ you sobbed, wrapping your fingers around his biceps, his muscles flexing in your grasp as you tried to brace yourself.

“I know you can take it, Hermosa. Need to give you one more. Please, let me give you one more.”

“I- fuck- I c-can’t.” But despite your half hearted protest, you and Frankie both knew that you were already half way to reaching your high again, coil in your stomach tightening with each punch against your g-spot and rub of his fingers on your throbbing bundle of nerves.

"You can, baby girl, I know you can. Can feel how close you are again- so fucking wet and tight, fuck- Give me one more and I'm gonna fill you so fucking full of me- watch my cum leak out of your tight little pussy 'till I can fuck it back into you again, keep you inside me for days." Frankie moaned, his pace now becoming more frantic and sloppy with each thrust, fighting with everything in him to keep from finishing before you did once more.

The combination of the feral thoughts that Frankie found himself spewing, along with the overwhelming and all consuming pleasure was all you needed to tip you over the edge again, this orgasm even more intense than the last. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, sobbing and crying out Frankie's name like a broken prayer, body practically going limp as pure bliss overtook you.

"Oh shit- Fuck, you're so good to me, quierda. Feels so fucking good. Fuck, I'm gonna cum too- mierda- give you everything I have, gonna-ahhhhh! Fuck!"

Just like that, Frankie was spilling inside you, hips stuttering with one final thrust as he painted your walls with hot, thick ropes of his spend, balls drawing up into his stomach while he milked himself of every last drop he had to give.

Through heavy breaths and gritted teeth, Frankie carefully pulled out his softening cock, sitting back on his heels to watch the mix of your spend begin to drip out of your hole, awestruck but the wet and shiny mess between your thighs, pussy puffy, swollen and leaking with him.

But for just as animalistic as it made Frankie to watch his cum seep out of your spent cunt, there was an even more primitive part of him that need to make sure that you stayed full of him, to mark his territory inside of you.

Shifting to lay on his stomach, Frankie kept your legs slung over his shoulders, pushing your thighs to your chest to spread you open, watching more of his seed dribble out of your pussy. With a satisfied groan rumbling deep in his chest, Frankie stuck out his tongue, swiping it up to collect the warm mixture of your arousal before pushing it back into your heat, gently fucking you with his mouth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

Once he was satisfied with his cum stuffed back inside you, Frankie couldn't help but look up at you with the most satisfied smirk spread across his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling up to trap your body beneath his, resting his weight on top of you with his head nestled between your breasts, big brown puppy dog eyes staring up at you.

"Are you okay, baby?" He cooed, reaching up to gently stroke your cheek, thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. "It wasn't too much, was it?"

"No, it was amazing, Frankie." You smiled, reaching down to run your fingers through the messy curls of his sweat-ridden hair, heart swelling with how quickly Frankie had flipped the switch from assertive to soft and sweet. "We should watch football like that more often."

"Baby, if this is how you wanna watch football, I won't let us miss another fucking game the rest of this season."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

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@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[hoshifighting]

latino!mingyu

WARNINGS: smut, latino life, im jus kidding (ou não também), mentions of alcohol, flipping the cap before kissing you, fingering, oral, dirty talk, hair pulling, public-teasing, public-make out.

if nobody said it, i will. MINGYU LATINO!!! mingyu who, no matter where he is, somehow finds a reason to grab a beer, and yeah, it's gotta be ice cold. “wanna pilsen, babe?” he’s already tossing one your way before you can answer. like, let’s be real here, this man drinks anything that remotely resembles beer. pilsen, brahma, skol, corona? he’s down. anything to cool off that tanned, toned-ass body of his after playing fútbol/futebol/soccer, anyways, for way too long just ‘cause he knows you’re watching. and when that shirt comes off? goddamn, everybody in the surroundings is drooling. mingyu knows it too, that cocky grin spreading across his face, and you're just trying to act normal. but it’s impossible when the man is literally glowing under the scorching sun.

he danced at his cousin’s quinceanera/festa de 15. of course, he did. he’s that hot cousin, the one all the aunties fawn over, talking about how he’s grown up so well, while the guys on the block are salty ‘cause their girls won’t stop staring when he's shirtless walking in havaianas flip-flops. he’s out there, not giving a damn, smiling, swaying his hips to reggaeton with you, and trust—he’s glued to your ass like you owe him something. or clapping his hands and asking you to dance samba with him. you roll your eyes, but you’re lowkey hyped up by his attention. that man is always hyping you up, calling you “amor/cariño/gatinha/mama/bebe” like it’s a full-time job.

every party, every gathering, someone’s got him dancing with their cousin, their sister, their aunt even (and he’s good at it).

mingyu who comes to your ear, whispering dirty things, just to see you getting all wet. “you look so fuckin’ good tonight, mama. can’t wait to get you back home and ruin that dress.”

he says it like it’s a casual thing, with that smirk of his. the kinda smirk that says he knows you’re weak for him, the way you flush when he so much as drags his fingers up your arm. and he’s not wrong. you could play it off cool, but he’s already in your head, already got you thinking about what’s gonna happen later.

mingyu who's skin is so damn hot, like he’s a human furnace, and you swear it’s impossible to cuddle with him for too long without needing a breather. the dude radiates heat like no one else, and even though you love the way he wraps around you—those big arms pulling you tight, holding you like he’s never gonna let go—there’s always that moment where you’re like, “okay, I need to cool the fuck down before I melt into a puddle.” and he always laughs about it, gives you that lazy smile while you’re fanning yourself, like, “what? too hot to handle?”

but the thing is, it’s not just about the heat. there’s something else in the way mingyu touches u, like he’s always trying to get as close as possible. sometimes, he has no shame in it—like when he gets that look in his eyes, and next thing you know, he’s got you pinned against a random house on the street, his mouth crashing into yours. tongue and tongue and tongue, his lips moving against yours like he’s starving for you. his hands? they’re everywhere—flying down to grab your ass, squeezing like he owns it, pulling you closer, so you can feel just how bad he wants you.

and oh my god, when he turns his cap backward before kissing you? dead. you know it's coming—the way he runs a hand through his hair, then flips that hat around. it’s such a small move, but fuck, it drives you insane every time. like he’s gearing up for something more, and you know that look means he’s about to ruin you in the best way possible. no warning, he just dives in, lips pressing hard, tongue slipping inside your mouth, claiming you. he kisses like it’s his job—wet, messy, and so fucking good you lose yourself in it every time.

then there’s mingyu in bed. and the man’s got skills 😭, and he knows it. when he’s behind you, hands in your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch, it’s game over. you’re a mess, and he’s thriving off it, low growls escaping him as he fucks you from behind, his hips slamming into yours with that steady, unforgiving rhythm. he’s so into it—one hand gripping your hair, the other on your waist, guiding you, pulling you back onto him. and he doesn’t just pull your hair like it’s a casual thing—oh no. he pulls it slow, but then suddenly he yanks harder as if he's silently telling you “this is mine. you’re mine.”

and don’t even get started on his fingers. mingyu’s got the best fingers, and he knows exactly how to use them. whether it’s slow and teasing, dragging it out until u’re practically begging, or fast and rough, working you up until you can barely think straight—he’s a pro at this shit. sometimes, he’ll have u spread out, fingers deep inside you, curling them, head bobbing as he sucks your clit. and he watches you fall apart under his touch? it’s like he’s studying every reaction, committing it to memory so he can wreck you even harder next time.

but the dirtiest thing about mingyu? it’s the way he talks when you’re in public and trying to keep it together. you know the type—when you’re at dinner or out with friends, and you’re trying to be normal, trying to focus on the conversation, but mingyu’s sitting next to u, whispering the filthiest shit in your ear. his voice is low, just for you, and no one else at the table has a clue what’s going on.

“bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me right now, aren’t you, baby? can feel how bad you want it.”

and he says it all casual, like he’s not making you clench your thighs together under the table, trying to keep from giving yourself away. but he knows, and he’s not letting up. his hand brushes your leg under the table, fingertips barely grazing your thigh, and your heart’s pounding because you know what he’s doing.

“if i slid my hand up your skirt right now, you’d be soaked. don’t lie, mama. i can see it in your eyes.”

and it’s so fucking hard not to react, not to moan right then and there. but you can’t. you won’t. because you're in public, surrounded by people, and the last thing you need is to let everyone in on the fact that mingyu’s got you trembling in your seat. but he loves it, loves seeing you try to hold it together, that smug grin playing on his lips as he watches you squirm. “gonna take you home later,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear, “will make you cream on my cock, make you scream my name. don’t think you’ll be so quiet then.”

it’s all you can do to keep breathing, to keep pretending like you’re fine when, really, all you want is for mingyu to make good on every dirty promise he’s whispered in your ear. and you know he will.

[faegutz]

I see the men in cod mw2 and know they have huge honkers and I only wish to bite them. Especially könig and ghost, they have phat knockers hidden under that military gear and I wanna bite them

biting COD mens honkers ☆ pairings: könig, ghost, price, soap, alejandro x gn! reader

authors note: i have no clue if this was an actual request or not but i had to write it either way..i added who u mentioned and some others! Hope u enjoy !!

tags: crack post?, biting honkers

"KÖNIG"

- his face would literally turn SO red SO fast

- "what... what are you, um, doing, schatz?"

- of course he would let you do it if thats what you really wanted, but that doesnt mean hes gonna be any less embarrassed when you do

- i imagine youre just biting his honker and hes just standing like this '🧍‍♂️'

- when you explain that you just wanted to bite his honkers, he would be even more confused. WHY????

"SIMON GHOST RILEY"

- if you did it unexpectedly i feel like he would go to hit you out of instinct

- he stops himself before he makes contact with you though, and he just stares down at you

- "What the fuck."

- literally so confused and a little weirded out??

- like what are you doing biting my badonkers 😭

- gives you weird looks the rest of the day LMAO

"CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE"

- he slowly turns his head to look down at you, his face literally the '😦' emoji

- quickly pulls you off him and just... gives you a 'wtf' look

- when you explain, hes just... flabbergasted

- "why the fuck would you want to do that?"

- he is so confused. is this another thing he doesnt know about because of his age??

- his recent search history is "is it normal for your partner to bite your chest?", "chest biting meaning", etc.

"JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH"

- oh okay.

- looks down at you and just acts like its normal

- when you explain why you did it, he just burts out laughing, like full on arm over stomach while wheezing laughing

- "Thats the dumbest shit ae ever heard,"

- if you did it does that mean he can too?

- if you say yes he will immediately go and softly nibble on ur honkers

- finds it hilarious and now brings it up often as a joke

"ALEJANDRO VARGAS"

- will look at you like ur insane

- but then he starts to laugh and just pats your head

- "what are you doing, mi vida?"

- when its explained to him, he just chuckles and shakes his head

- well, if you want to bite his honkers, go ahead!!

[disneyprincemuke]

oscar's logan's girl * ls2 op81

oscar truly never thought he would ever see the girl that was the cause of his first ever heartbreak

pairings: logan sargeant oscar piastri x fem!reader

notes: first of all, i want to thank everyone for liking the first part to this huhuhu i PERSONALLY think this is one of the fics i've written for an individual driver that has gotten this much feedback and responses... i never thought, in the 6 hours it took me to write that, that people would even like it so much... thank you for the kind words u guys <;/3

and now i would like to apologise if this did NOT go the way you thought it would... i couldn't bear hurting either logan or oscar, and holding grudges seemed like such an unlikely thing for a man of oscar's caliber... sorry if it doesn't go the way you thought <;/3

word count: 2.3k

(oscar's girl) // (f1 masterlist)

you let out the heaviest sigh, clutching onto the almost empty mercedes cup in your hand. you look over your shoulder, watching lily and carmen walk away without you in the direction of where the boys would be.

you stare at the unfamiliar, yet somehow most familiar, pair of brown eyes boring into your own. in the back of your mind, you remember the hushed giggles and how his hand used to feel in yours while you were in the streets of melbourne. you can almost remember what he sounded like when you were just kids, and the man that stands in front of you barely looks like what you remember of him.

you were devastated when you lost oscar's phone number. when you moved away to inevitably stay in the united states, you had every single intention of keeping the friendship with oscar. you just needed a week of settling in. you barely made any other meaningful friendships worth keeping in melbourne; all except the one that you had developed with oscar.

arguably, you could have done more to find him again. you could have gone on instagram, or any other social media site to try and keep the friendship alive. but you thought, after all those tears you shed before your departure, it would be better to stay away.

you only ever thought of oscar once in the past couple of years. the night before your first date with logan: you couldn't fall asleep from the nerves and anxiety. you had gotten along well over the phone, the williams driver playing his cards right every single time he would send you a text message and had your cheeks hurting from smiling too much and kicking your feet in the air.

you came across pictures of you and the young boy in melbourne, tucked away in a dusty photo album that you kept stored under your bed. you don't reminisce much: the memories you had up until you were 16 are a blur in your head. too much had happened, and the only memory that you keep with you is the fact that you moved around more than the average person.

"it's been a while," you finally speak, readjusting your shirt. the wet patch on your shirt, now slightly cold from the weather, your jacket doesn't really do much now to keep you warm. "how have you been?"

you can physically see the gears in oscar's head turn. his eyes bore into yours as he contemplates what he will say to you. if this had happened sooner after you had stopped talking to him, he would know what to say to you. because he spent his nights, and logan's mornings, talking about what he would say to you.

oscar presses his lips into a thin line. he has two choices now: unload the frustration he's forgotten about as he grew into an adult, or just be civil with the girl he could have sworn was the love of his life at 14. you never left his mind, even after all of these years, up until the moment that he met his now girlfriend, lily. he's a firm believer that you would have lasted forever if you had just stayed.

"i've been good. i'm a race car driver now," he smiles, gesturing to the paddocks around him. he's just going to try and ignore the fact that you're dating his literal best friend. "i told you."

you throw your head back with a laugh, making oscar drop his smile in the slightest of ways. he feels his chest close in on itself at the sound you're making. sometimes he fears that he'd never truly gotten over you, but that seems more like an overreaction in normal circumstances.

oscar wasn't aware of the fact that it could very well be the truth right now.

"you always did tell me you're going to be a racer," you agree with a smile. you remember going along with him to an obscure go-kart establishment once when you were growing up. it simply wasn't your thing, but you supported him through and through even as a young 14-year-old. "small world, huh?"

oscar nods with a small smile. "so, um. what happened?"

you tilt your head. "what do you mean?"

"you stopped answering my text messages out of the blue one day after you moved," oscar laughs softly, shrugging. "did i do something wrong? what happened?"

you sigh, closing your eyes as it hits you. there is something about the way his eyes are turned down slightly, and it doesn't take a genius to tell that he's trying to smile through whatever emotion he is feeling.

and you understand it if you were to put yourself in his shoes. it's genuinely all on you: you had promised that you wouldn't drift away from him before you left. you promised him, back then, that there would come a time that would bring you back together to give your relationship a fighting chance.

keeping in contact was very essential to that promise.

you don't think of oscar. but now that you do, you can see the scene of when you were about to leave playing vividly in your head. he had asked you for one simple thing: not to drift away so that someday, you can meet again and give yourselves a real fighting chance.

because realistically, at 14, there was not much to fight for but the overwhelming surge of emotions you have for something that is often categorised as puppy love.

but oscar knew even then that there was definitely something more.

"i dropped my phone in the lake. i got a new phone and a new number," you whisper dejectedly, trying to avoid the intensity of his stare. and you're prepared to receive the brunt of his anger, understandably so after you had unintentionally ghosted him. "i'm sorry. in hindsight, i should have done more to reconnect with you - social media is powerful, after all."

oscar nods, his lips pressed into a polite smile. though you can notice him clenching his jaw as he tries to force himself not to cause a scene in such a public setting.

a setting where your boyfriend, his best friend, would be involved. and his girlfriend who doesn't deserve this type of scandal tied to her name.

"we were just kids," oscar shrugs. but there's a bitterness in his mouth that he cannot ignore for too long. there is a bubbling urge from the deepest part of his gut to scream at you for all those days he swore he was going to go crazy from the pain of suddenly losing you. "i was bummed, though, when i lost you."

bummed is an understatement. the degree to which he grieved is unspoken between him and logan.

he doesn't blame logan for being overprotective of him when lily started to come into the picture. he was sat down by the american, by the sidewalks during their morning run, asking him to think long and hard about this.

it's the only time they had spoken of the instance that oscar almost lost himself. oscar waved off his concerns and said he was sure of what he has with lily, and that's a decision that he is still very proud of.

"i was devastated. but i was also scared," you whisper with a smile. "we were 14, but what i felt for you at the time... it was bigger than us, oscar. we had no fight against something like that."

oscar smiles. "logan is good to you, i hope?"

"we only just got together a couple months ago," you nod, "but he is amazing."

oscar nudges his head towards the direction that lily and carmen had walked towards earlier. you hop off your spot to catch up as he starts to walk by his side. "i've got a girlfriend of my own now. her name's lily too."

"doesn't that get confusing when you're all together? with alex's girlfriend and yours?"

"sometimes. but we don't hang out with the older drivers often," oscar admits with a scrunch of his nose. you have to bite back a laugh at his habit, seeing that it's something that has never left him. "it's a bit awkward. logan and i are typically together more often than not."

"how come?"

"we've only got each other," oscar shrugs. " we met at a karting race when we were really young. we kept in contact when we were apart. i think i may have told you about him a couple of times - my best friend living in florida."

you purse your lips, trying to rake at your brain for a time that oscar said that to you. unfortunately, your memory doesn't go that far back into the details of what you had. "wow. there's a lot i must have forgotten. i didn't know you went way back."

oscar smiles. with the little bit of resentment he has towards you, he completely understands (at his big age) why you don't seem to remember it as well as he did.

which is why he hated that he fell in love with you. he had made you his world and the meaning of his life, causing him to fall apart and crack at your goodbye.

you were an integral part of his life, but he was just a sliver of a memory in one of the places you had stayed in for a year or two. it had taken a while to start seeing it the way he does now. he hated you for what you did for years until everything started to fall into place for him in his head.

suddenly he understood why you were hesitant to befriend him in the first place. it must not have been easy to keep leaving friends behind.

"nah, it's alright. if i had such unstable environments like you did growing up, i'd have turned out much worse than you," oscar laughs. "did you move again after you moved to washington?"

you nod again. "one more time. we moved to la after three years - you know my dad. but it wasn't as severe as moving end to end of the world from australia to the united states, i guess."

"ba- oh." you calmly turn to the side, beaming when logan approaches you with confusion on his face. "i was looking for you all over the place. lily and carmen told me you ran into an old friend?"

logan had noticed oscar before you, the bright papaya orange that oscar sports all year around is not easy to miss. "i see you met oscar! what a coincidence."

"yeah, we," you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully as you meet him halfway, "funny enough, babe. we used to go to school together. in melbourne when my dad had business there when i was younger."

oscar presses his lips together, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet. he knows it won't take long for logan to complete the puzzle.

"oh?" logan furrows his eyebrows at you, one hand on your back protectively. "small world. oscar's actually my best friend - he's on the family fridge back in florida."

"yeah, he mentioned!" you beam, wrapping your arms around his. "who would have thought that the oscar you keep talking about is the same one i know?"

logan smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "right! so this is my guest for the weekend, man. my girlfriend - we met over the winter break. i can't believe you guys go way back! this makes it so much easier, doesn't it?"

oscar wants to run away. doesn't matter where, or how he will get there, because all he can focus on is the way you're leaning into logan's touch and the way logan's smile is so bright that it could be seen by the stars.

you clearly just had that effect on people. he's just another one of those people who fell for the welcoming aura you emit.

"did you guys know each other well?" logan asks.

oscar shares a glance with you. but he knows logan, more than you, perhaps. if logan finds out the history that you share, he will not be able to live with himself. he would leave you, leaving all three of you devastated.

so as you open your mouth to respond excitedly, oscar speaks over your mutter. "not really, just had a couple of classes together," oscar lies with a smile. he reluctantly settles for logan's excitement instead of your confusion. "we bumped into one another, i thought she looked familiar."

"oh, yeah! have you got an extra shirt i could borrow? i spilled coffee all over my top," you laugh, pulling down the zip of your jacket slightly to show him the patch.

"mate, i need to go and find lily," oscar says, reaching out to pat his friend on the shoulder. "i'll see you tonight. dinner afterwards, right?"

truthfully, he wants to ditch it. but you were both 14. it's not fair to keep holding it against you when all the odds were stacked against you both.

"absolutely. i'll see you tonight, man," logan smiles, waving at him as he walks away.

he can briefly hear your conversation as he fought all urges to turn around and glance at you.

"are you sure you want to borrow my shirt? i've only got my williams team shirts in my driver's room. i can ask someone to go out and find you one, if you'd like."

"no, of course not! i want everyone to know i'm with the williams driver, you know? announce it to the world."

logan sounds so into you, and he can't fault him for that. you've got a way with people that just reel them in. he should know - he was one of those people that were wrapped around your finger.

oscar's girl, as logan would tease during karting when he was resigned to a corner to text you after the race.

but in his head, you will always be his girl, because that's what he used to call you. that's the memory of you that will live in his head forever.

@myxticmoon @fangirl-dot-com @f1enthusiastsstuff @barnestatic @ladywhistledownx @holy-macncheese-balls @lightdragonrayne @almostjollypizza @sleepybrokenmelle @flyclaren @sagestack @de1u1ugyal @starssfall @cherry-piee @cstads-blog @renarots @strrgirlxqs @uuoozzii @bringbacktim @esposamultifandom @ssprayberrythings

[hijackalx]

FEMALE BG3 COMPANIONS TURN ONS/KINKS +18

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS

NON-COMPANIONS/NON-ORIGIN COMPANIONS

SHADOWHEART

HARD DOM

ISN’T THIS OBVIOUS i feel like she's so into being the dominant one regardless of whether she's on top or bottom. like dominatrix vibes for real. and she can be really mean too, like step on u/spit on u/whip u type of mean 😹😹 (me next) something about u being at her command is just sooo hot. she loves that you’ll do anything for her

WAXPLAY

i think she'd want this done to u AND her. like she's the type to pour it down ur chest or neck while she's riding u. i can't decide if she'd like to use colorful candles or all black candles 🤔 dark purple would be sexy actually. she likes how u flinch when it touches u. BUT she also likes how it feels on herself (that's probably how she gets off seeing it happen to u cuz she knows how good it feels 🤤). might tease u by pouring it on herself and making u watch

LEATHER/LATEX

yeah like full BDSM gear and all that lol. i think she would like the full body latex suits i dont actually know what they're called (shocker i know) but think velma in the one live action scooby doo movie LMAO

DOUBLE PENETRATION

i feel like she would be into either being tag-teamed herself or tag-teaming u with a strap lol. but also it doesn't have to involve another person it could be u riding a toy while also sucking off her strap and vice versa. i think if ur the one getting fucked she'd want another dom person to join because she gets off on seeing u be submissive

BODY WORSHIP

she would 100% want u to treat her like the princess she is. praise her body/figure and tell her how much u love it. leave kisses all over, maybe fuck in front of a mirror so u can actually show her how much u love her body. she’d probably do the same for u just a bit more nasty LMAO like the shit she says will be intense

LAE'ZEL

PETPLAY

OKAY this one i had dragonborns in mind lol but also it could work for anybody. like u guys can't tell me she wouldn't be into collaring/leashing u and having u do as she asks. will call u things like "pet" or "pup"

BRAT TAMING

now i know everybody thinks that SHE would be the one taming U but i honestly think it's the other way around OOP. like i think she likes when someone takes charge and pushes her around.... like she's just dying for somebody to come by and force her to take down that hard exterior of hers. u just have to prove urself to her first is all

BONDAGE

once she trusts u she will want u to tie her up. maybe would be into shibari? like i mean intense bondage. full body. she'll call u out on some pussy shit if u hold back and go easy on her 😹 she definitely wants it to hurt too and to be able to see marks/bruises left behind from it after

SIZE DIFFERENCE

if anyone is a size queen it's lae'zel LMAO. but this also plays into the whole brat taming/proving urself thing like if ur big and physically intimidating then she's more likely to respect u. she just likes the pain from trying to make u fit too though. and the accomplished feeling afterwards lol

PRAISE

i see her as somebody who is lowkey insecure. like she needs constant validation otherwise she feels like she's not doing good enough. so let her hear u !!!! let her know how good she's doing and how good she feels. tell her that she's beautiful and that ur proud of her. literally anything just don't be dead silent she will get up and walk away 💀

KARLACH

PEGGING

she wears the strap ALMOST exclusively. sometimes she'll make exceptions but most of the time she just prefers to be the one doing the fucking. this goes for AMAB and AFAB obviously. she loves the way it feels to be able to make u feel good and fuck u to the point of cumming. i don't really think it's a control thing she just likes to please u (and she usually has too much energy to bottom lol)

SIZE DIFFERENCE

LOVVVESSSS how big she is compared to u. like it makes her feel so strong and capable. particularly interested in how big her hands are compared to urs and also how easy it is to balance u on her thigh. she'll want to pick u up and fuck u, it's one of her favorite positions. she just loves how easy it is to manhandle u in general

MOMMY DOM

i think this would start out as a joke and then snowball into an actual kink of hers lol. she's usually a soft dom when it comes to this. as in lots of praise and saying stuff like "cum for momma baby". i don't really see her being a hard dom (maybe on special occasions?)

LINGERIE

if u dress up in lingerie for her she will actually LOSE IT. like it makes u look so dainty and sexy at the same time. she loves the ones that have the thigh garters because she likes to play with them. i think she really likes the feeling of the lace but also adores the fluffy ones too

EDGING

she likes this done to the both of u. i feel like she'll try to prolong the sex for as long as she can or maybe tease u/get u horny in public and leave u like that for soooo long, that way when u guys finally fuck it's like EXPLOSIVE from being so pent up lmao. BUT she also likes when u do it to her too. i can see this being especially exciting for her because she's so raring to go all the time 😹 it's like a fun little challenge

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS

NON-COMPANIONS/NON-ORIGIN COMPANIONS

[imasoftieforbarb]

Hi babes!!<33

Soo this has been on my mind recently and I think ur the best page(and prolly the only) where I could ask for it!

It’s a Floyd x F or GN! Reader, but the reader is some kinda car racer. Like super badass, shoves her thumb up bad guy’s asses and shit, basically one of the best car racer trolls who will break bones if ur mean!

The context could be ANYTHING OMG like I can even imagine DJ dragging Floyd along to one of the races bc he loves them and Floyd meets her there, etc. etc.

U can do it in any forms like one shot or HCs, I will literally kiss you.

Thank you ily<3

Floyd x Racer reader

It took JD a while to convince his brothers to go iron a bonding trip

But once they see he really wants to bond they all decide why not

He takes them to a race track for a day- they can all do go karting until the track closes

Unfortunately it closes pretty quickly because an official race is taking place that same day

“Can we at least stay and watch?” JD asked as his brothers got out of their safety gear

They could

They bought snacks and decided to sit really close to the track

“Look there are the racers!”

Floyds eyes were instantly drawn to a racer walking to the closest car to the group

Their helmet was concealing their face but the confident aura that came from them seemed to draw everyone’s gaze to them

They waved to everyone in the crowd for a moment before hopping in the car

One of the other racers approached the mystery rider and said something that must have pissed them off

Because as they walked away, ‘Mystery’ as Floyd had dubbed them lifted up their middle finger in absolute rage

After the race, the winner and runners up were announced

“Driver 3, Y/n L/n in second place!”

In order to receive their medal, they decided to take their helmet off- revealing their face

“Woah”

Floyd was in awe, time seemed to slow down and he was so deep in his daydream that he didn’t register his brothers teasing him

And it was all fun and games until

“Hey! Driver No 3!! My brother has a crush on you!” JD yelled out, much to his brothers embarrassment

“JD-!” Floyd hissed through his teeth- desperately avoiding eye contact with you

Your head turned to see a group of trolls all pointing to an embarrassed troll with magenta pink hair

You considered your options before shrugging, climbing off the podium

Walking over to where the group was sitting, smiling as you saw them all start nudging the pink haired troll

“Hey! Are you the one with the so-called crush on me?” You asked Floyd who cleared his throat before nodding slightly

You hummed before nodding to yourself

Then you reached over the divider and grabbed his wrist gently

Pulling a pen out of your pocket, you wrote a day, address and time before kissing his wrist gently

“It’s a date, I’ll see you soon pretty boy” 

You walked towards the changing room, feeling proud of yourself

Floyd watched you go before poking down at his wrist is disbelief

“You’re welcome bro”

^that was JD

[arthenaa]

ikaw at ikaw (only you) — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: 4 times your team lead chose you and 1 time you chose her.

content: modern!au, office romance, you and mizu are creatives, specifically in the character and concept design department in a very very famous gaming company (take a guess), she is your creative director and lead designer and you are the concept artist, 4+1 format, FLUFF, work relations, dynamic, and position might not be accurate, forgive me, this is basically just me projecting yet again.

a/n: this is requested by @andieperrie18 ! the answer shit isn't letting me edit my answer so ill be @-ing you here. TYSM FOR ENJOYING MY WORKS !! means a lot ... u also chose pasilyo 🥹🥹🥹🥹 sunkissed lola is the best

1.

Being part of the creatives team was a nightmare.

To tell you the truth, the position for a Concept Artist with a specialty in 2D design wasn't actually all that bad. The monthly benefits and wage were something you're quite lucky to receive considering the constant side eye other departments have with the admin's treatment of the artist employees. This was also your dream job—having had to play their games, specifically, VALORANT, left you in awe and gearing to apply once you were ready for an Internship. After your OJT course, you were accepted for a position in Character and Concept Design and are considered one of the team's most beloved artists (Your followers on Twitter reckon so).

In short, the work environment was great. A solid 15/10 experience—I mean how can you beat a company that caters not only to you as an artist but also as a player? Nothing can beat that feeling of satisfaction once you see your work displayed on various monitors all around the world.

It was more of ... the relationships and interactions with that work space environment that left you grasping at a chance to breathe.

People think you're overreacting but you think it's completely reasonable.

"Yes, you are overreacting."

Your face falls at Taigen's words—watching as he plays a round of unrated in the company's leisure space decked with state of the art PC builds that could definitely beat your poor touchscreen fridge with just a move of its mouse. You could hear the familiar voicelines of Jett from VALORANT as he uses the character's abilities to swiftly enter the site and take a hold of the defenders' positions.

Taigen is part of the Gaming Development Department in the VALORANT Team. He often does routine user gameplay checks and one of its perks is that you literally just have to play the game and get paid for it. You think its unfair but then again, its Taigen. He's always unfair.

"I think you're just saying that to be mean," You frowned, eyes trained on his face—the lights reflecting back on his stupid, stupid, clear-skinned face. Taigen rolls his eyes but not an ounce of his focus leaves the game.

"Being honest equals to being mean, got it." Taigen's voice comes out in a sarcastic tone. You kick a speck of dust on the cement floor, twirling in the gaming chair you're seated on.

"I just think its a reasonable thing to complain about!" You throw your hands in the air in an attempt to get him to look at your side of things. "You're completely unfazed because your team lead has the patience of a mother with 7 kids."

You hear the familiar cue of an ACE kill as Taigen hits a headshot on the last player. The game's interface shifts to the winner screen and finally, he turns to you, pulling his headphones off and giving his best deadpan stare.

"You're freaking out over Mizu sighing over your concept design proposal for Neon and overanalyzed even the way she drank her coffee because you're obsessed with her like that." Taigen arches his eyebrow to make the situation all the more ridiculous. Your mouth closes and opens like a fish out of water. "Am I right? Wait no, don't answer that. I know I am."

"What the fuck?" Your voice comes out in a desperate attempt of self-defence but it ultimately just sounds defeated. Taigen chuckles as he turns back to his monitor to take a look at the game stats.

"Look," Taigen tries to be empathetic but you're pretty sure this is just to get you off his back. The queue for competitive is already up and running. "As your friend, I say this with the love that I have for you and your works but please, Mizu is just one woman. If my mind process went like yours, I would've assumed Akemi hated my very existence and this is coming from someone who IS dating Akemi."

You purse your lips in thought as he raises his eyebrows in exaggeration. You're not exactly sure why you approached Taigen with this problem but he was the only familiar face that you saw after walking out of the meeting room in a hurry.

But then the question in this situation is who exactly is Mizu?

Well, there were a lot of things you could associate with the familiar blue-eyed director. Mizu is your boss—the creative director for Concept and Character design for the VALORANT team. She oversees character ideas, map visuals, detailing, and the final approval for character and asset ideation before it's sent for building in the 3D and VFX departments. She is your employer but you can also consider her your friend, albeit a highly respected one (she did the character design for Jett and Yoru).

It's not that you were obsessed—Taigen is wrong, he's always wrong—it was definitely because you respected her very much. Being a Riot Design Lead is basically fucking God. You create and give life to ideas. She's part of the original team that worked on the pre-release of VALORANT during its early stages and got to see the whole thing unfold. Something you wished to see back then but glad that you were able to become part of the journey despite being a few patches late.

You respected her enough to always want to be on her good side. I mean, who wouldn't? She's talented and very... youthful-looking and one of Riot's youngest leads, you honestly think that being worried over her approval like this is just a matter of respect and definitely NOT obsession.

"You're doing that thing where you space out and I have to assume that it's probably because of Mizu, yeah?" Taigen's voice intercepts your reprieve and suddenly, a curl of your eyebrows creates a look of annoyance on your face.

"I am not obssesed with Mizu," You reiterate, but this time with your mouth. "I just... respect her."

Taigen leans back on his gaming chair, nodding as if you just told him that he didn't need to double double-click everything.

"That's the most unbelievable shit I've heard today," Taigen finally replies with a scrunch of his nose. Your jaw falls open.

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too!"

"Do fucking not—Stop it."

Taigen purses his lips, and makes a motion of zipping his mouth and shaking his head. You huff in anger. Taigen was never going to believe you.

Just as you were about to chastise him again for being mistaken, a knock on the glass doors notifies you of a new presence. You turn by instinct and your eyes widen in shock and probably, dread—who knows.

"There you are," Mizu's voice filters through your ears like classical music on a good Friday evening. You stammer slightly as she enters the area, eyes trained on you through those tinted orange specs. Mizu momentarily greets Taigen who only raises his hand in greeting before turning towards the screen (only you can see through your peripheral vision that this motherfucker is laughing). "I've been looking for you."

"You did?" Your voice comes off quiet. Mizu furrows her eyebrows.

"Uh, yeah?" She replies with a confused tone. "I had your concept design for Neon approved, it was more direct compared to Matt's. I wanted to tell you in person since you just bolted from the meeting room."

You fall silent at her words. She looks a bit concerned as you try to make sense of the information.

"You seem in shock—Are you okay?" Mizu asks, eyes glancing towards Taigen who looks at her before shrugging.

You feel your heart speed up. You momentarily calm yourself before finally responding. "Y-Yeah, sorry. Just didn't think that you'd approve it."

Mizu tilts her head like a fucking cat and you're quite sure you would drop dead then and there. "Why not? It's your work."

You're not sure what she means by that but a sudden shiver runs through your veins at her praise and suddenly your cheeks are flushing.

"Ah," You're voice fills in the silence, awkward and quiet. "Thank you?"

There's a pause of silence before Mizu chuckles. She heaves a breath before pulling the glass door open.

"I'll see you at my office, Y/N." She smiles. "Great work."

The silence further pushes you into the void as you and Taigen watch her exit and disappear into another hallway through the glass windows. Just as you were a few minutes ago, you lean forward to slouch over your knees, hands on your face as you meltdown from what just happened. You hear Taigen chuckle beside you.

"Give it a few more months and she'll give you a ring on your finger with a bent knee on the ground."

You sob into your hands as Taigen erupts in heaps of laughter.

Oh my fucking God.

2.

The release for Neon was a hit. An all-time new duelist originating from the Philippines, your concept design took off without a hitch. It's safe to say that your hard work paid off as you stood over the central common room—leisure areas decked with your coworkers trying out and celebrating the release. A sense of satisfaction fills you.

"I hear you spearheaded the design concept for Neon," A voice infiltrates your sense like a lure. You can't help but smile at its familiarity. Akemi wraps her arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder as she continues. "Marketing was thrilled with the positive response. Good job."

You turn around, her arms loosely accommodating you. "Akemi," you coo.

The girl grins wide and pulls you into a hug. You return the affection in a grander gesture of squeezing her tight against you.

Akemi's part of the Marketing Department for Riot. While she often creates publication material for VALORANT, she also has cross work with League of Legends for its various strategic releases (ie. KDA).

"I just want to say that I already predicted Neon would be a sure hit, it's your work after all," Akemi pulls away from the hug with a smug smile. She grabs your hands in hers, swinging them slowly. "Marketing it was like a breeze in the park."

You laugh softly at her enthusiasm. "You give me way too much credit."

Akemi rolls her eyes affectionately. "Humility is a disease—live a little."

You shake your head at her quips, opting to smile in response. A member of your team passes by, eyes widening in recognition of you before giving you a thumbs up. Akemi watches the interaction—eyes trained on that person's figure as they walked towards Mizu who was busy talking to other creative team leads. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at her prolonged silence.

"Who are you—?" Your words trail off as you turn to look at what she's so focused on before turning back at the sight of Mizu. "Nevermind."

Akemi raises her eyebrow with an amused look on her face. "Taigen always has a penchant for exaggerating but I didn't think it was this bad?"

Your face falls at the information. "Taigen told you?"

Akemi gives you a 'duh' look—eyebrows raised and eyes half-lidded. "Taigen's a loose lock if you pry hard enough. He basically can never keep a secret."

You give her a deadpan stare before shifting in your position. Akemi crosses her arms over her chest as she eyes you up and down—filled to the brim with amusement. "I'm fine, stop making a big deal out of it."

"Uh huh," Akemi squints her eyes playfully. You could only glare back in response.

The loud cheering at the front catches your attention as resident workers, interns, and newbies alike begin to tune in at the commotion. Akemi and you move to the sidelines, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you tried to find out what's happening.

"What's happening?" You ask the person to your front. He turns, eyes beaming with excitement.

"The creative director for C&C got pulled in a 1v1. They're playing against Beckham."

Your breath hitches at the information. Akemi nudges you with her elbow, overhearing the conversation. The two of you move to the side, finally getting a glimpse of the two team leads focused on a custom game of VALORANT. Your eyes zone in on familiar raven locks seated on the right monitor.

A live stream of their game is projected on the monitor up front and suddenly you feel sick from the amount of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

She's playing Neon. The character you designed.

Oh God. You watched her take kill after kill, headshot after headshot as she sprinted across the map—zapping characters with Neon's electric abilities. You've never seen someone look so fucking hot playing an FPS game before. It's doing things to your brain.

Just as you expected, the winning banner appears on Mizu's screen and the C&C Team erupts in cheers. You become entranced at the sight—a few of your co-workers patting her on the back before she erupts in smiles and laughs. This is not healthy for your heart.

And just as you think the night couldn't get any better, one of the people from the Marketing departments begins stirring up an interview.

"What made you choose Neon on the character pick? You usually go for Sentinels, no?"

Your eyes meet and suddenly you could feel your heart skip a few beats. Mizu chuckles.

"Wanted to do a duelist around for a spin," Mizu replies. "The design and character visuals for Neon was amazing and I ought to pay the artist who did it a homage."

Suddenly all eyes are on you—some of them even "ooh-ing" for being praised by Mizu. You pale at the attention before doing a hesitant bow in gratitude.

Mizu pulls the headphones off her head and smiles. "Congrats, Y/N. Hope you liked the win."

You feel Akemi stir up beside you, chuckling at the interaction.

You're going to die. You can feel it and its all because of your boss.

3.

Okay, maybe admitting that you were a little bit obsessed and crushing over your employer was a bit overdue. You weren't exactly the type to parade your feelings around the office but if people were to zone in on you acting sheepish and awkward around Mizu, there was a 55% chance that you could tell based on that alone.

It wasn't like your admiration for Mizu started on a whim. As said countless and countless times, it had a foundation of respect until Mizu started trying to get to know and interact with you and those same feelings of admiration started to change. What else were you supposed to do? Mizu is a fucking all-in-one holiday basket—you didn't have it in you to resist the charms.

It also didn't help that over the past few days, Mizu seems to have her undivided attention on you. Showering you with praises, asking if you wanna spearhead a certain project, revel in your work—all that shit. It's messing with your productivity and mindset and that's not a good idea.

The Head Director for the VALORANT Team had decided to call a night out for drinking to reward the team for the positive feedback for the latest patch. You were quite thankful for the opportunity as this was a way for you to get a moment of rest from Mizu's constant attention. Not that you were complaining, it's just a little... too much.

You were seated at the far right booth of the restaurant, keeping to yourself as you watched Ringo and Taigen begin to have a debate about team composition. Akemi grumbles beside you, clearly not enjoying whatever the fuck these two were talking about.

"Look," Taigen holds his hands out in front of him, trying to make a point. "All I'm saying is if you keep putting DPS builds on your team comp, how in the hell will you be able to maximize their kit? Supports are there for a reason."

Ringo rolls his eyes. "It's called enjoying the game, Taigen. So what if I want to put dick 1, dick 2, and dick 3, together?"

Taigen's jaw drops. "Do you know how much skill point dependent they are? I'm even surprised you could bust a skill out." The raven haired man pauses before continuing with a face contorted in disgust. "And stop calling them dick 1,2,3? It's Dan Heng, Blade, and Jing Yuan."

"Of course you'd police that as well. You look like that fucking emoji." Ringo raises his prosthetic hand, imitating pushing up a pair of glasses. "Um, actually—"

"You are as annoying as my grandmother, do you know that?" Taigen snarls, eyes pulled into a glare. Your tall huggable co-worker only grins and bats his eyelashes.

You begin to tune out the two as Akemi excuses herself to take a cigarette break—already having enough of their banter. You eye the glass of beer in front of you, watching as the liquid sloshes around with each twirl of your wrist.

You had hoped to end the night with silence but alas, you can never get everything that you wanted. You feel a pair of eyes on you—direct and unashamed. Already having a feeling on who this was, you looked up and met the reflection of the ocean.

'You okay?' She mouths, concern overflowing her features. It's subtle enough for people to not notice her sudden shift of attention but enough for you to understand her. Your cheeks flush as you nod back with the same softness that she had thrown your way.

She nods in understanding, sending a soft smile your way before turning back towards her conversation with the Head. You hang your head down, wishing that the night would end faster so that you can finally have the moment of peace you have been wanting ever since this morning.

It was as if the world decided to cast hell upon you and revoked you of your rights to peace at the arrival of yet another problem.

"L/N!" The Head Director's voice encompassed the whole area—eyes turning towards him then at you in amusement. "You're one of the star employees and yet you haven't touched a single speck on that glass of yours!"

His hearty laughter follows—giggles and cheering from you co-workers following suite. You sweat drop, eyes darting to Taigen and Ringo who both looked away at your glare before turning towards the window where Akemi sends you a gracious thumbs up, a cigarette hanging from her lips. You groan.

"I-I'm fine," You wave your hand, laughing it off. Your eyes connect with Mizu, an unreadable look on her face as she takes a sip of her chosen beverage.

God decides to punish you more as the team lead beside Mizu chimes in. "Oh c'mon! You're a great asset to the company! I suggest drink up!"

One of your team members passes a full pint of beer as the others begin to urge you to drink up. You hadn't felt the intensity of peer pressure ever since your dance recital on 10th grade and that wasn't even as half bad as this. You weren't feeling on drinking yourself to death as well so trying to down a full pint of beer was a ticket for you to the afterlife (ie. you on your bed with puke all over the floors). The previous pint you had was enough.

You tried to decline as humbly as you could, afraid that this might be the instance that you could finally be fired off from Riot. You knew that if they kept pushing a 3rd more of their attempts that you'd probably give in for the sake of never doing this again but while the need hasn't yet arisen, you'll try fighting off the urge to be a people-pleaser.

Just as you finally begin to decline for the nth time, a hand emerges to your right—pushing the pint of beer in your co-worker's hands. The table falls silent. Your breath falters as the familiar scent of lavender and probably a hint of sunlight begins to seep in from behind you.

"Stop pressuring her like that," Mizu's voice sounds so close —your heart hammering off your chest. Your co-worker gives Mizu a sheepish smile.

"C'mon Mizu, let your team live a little!" The Head laughs once more before leaning forward with a smug smirk. "Unless you'll save this one yet again?"

There's a pause of silence as your co-workers darted between them—back and forth. You feel Mizu sigh behind you before her arms encase you against the table, one arm placed on the beside you each. Your breath hitches.

"Sorry," She mutters as she reaches for the pint. You stammer, turning towards her as you reach out to her wrist by instinct. Mizu blinks with her eyes wide open, suddenly surprised by your actions.

"Y-you don't have to!" You murmured, trying to keep your voice low. Mizu's eyes are unreadable. "You don't drink—!"

The woman chuckles before patting your hand and gently pulling herself off your grasp. "It's okay." She says.

You watch with stammering breath as she gulps the pint in one go, others cheering as she did. The Head claps.

"Didn't expect to see Mizu downing a beer today but here we are," The man bellows in laughter. Mizu chuckles, wiping the residue off her lips. You could only stare at her in shock.

Mizu glances down at you with a smile before patting your head then walking off. Your gaze trails on her and somehow the hammering within you becomes all the more intense.

Oh, Lord.

4.

It was supposed to just be a little game—a past time that the others decided to force you along. You really had no qualms joining games like this but if it concerns the people around you, especially in your work place, somehow you feel the risk of being outed for liking someone in you work space.

"If you guys wanted to date someone in the office, who'd you pick?" Ise leans forward, eyes squinted as she gives you and Akemi a smirk. The three of you were currently lounging in the cafeteria during you lunch break. There weren't many people present due an event going on in one of the building's sectors, so having a conversation like this somehow was less anxiety inducing.

"Taigen, unfortunately," Akemi deadpans. Ise rolls her eyes.

"I mean! Besides him," Ise whispers excitedly. "There's a newbie from marketing that looks cute but kinda quiet, maybe he's nice."

"You mean Takayoshi?" Akemi raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip of her tea. You glance back and forth between them.

"Is that his name?" Ise watches Akemi nod in response. "Well, I'll just have to go get his number then."

Akemi shakes her head at Ise's musings and you had hoped that the conversation would end there, but Ise suddenly turns to you with that mischievous look in her eye.

"What?" You whisper out, eyebrows furrowed in innocence. Akemi side glances you, the corners of her lips upturned in a smile. God, she was enjoying this too.

"What about you, Y/N?" Ise props her arm on the table, placing her cheek on her palm. "Got someone you're interested in?"

You avoid eye contact. "No."

Ise leans forward with a gasp. "You do!"

"I don't!" You reiterate with urgency. You turn to Akemi with a frantic stare. "Tell her I don't."

Ise turns to Akemi who smiles. "She doesn't."

"Bullshit." Ise deadpans. "The moment I'd believe Akemi with a smile on her face is the moment I'd die," Akemi flashes her middle finger at her to which Ise returns generously. Finally, the girl turns to you—chair scooted over to your right as she flashes you her doe eyes. "So? Who is it?"

You Akemi chuckle against her cup as you stammer in front of Ise. "I don't really like someone though?"

"Lies," Ise declares. "We might not be that close but you got that twitch in your eye that already tells me something. Who is it?"

"Ise," You plead, eyes darting around the space. Somehow, saying it out loud meant that you're solidifying the fact that you liked Mizu—an occurrence you'd like to keep to yourself as much as possible. You loved Ise, you really do. You worked with her hand in hand in bringing Neon to life (You worked on her design while she worked on the 3D build) and have become tremendously grateful for her critique and contributions to your work. But this, this was something else. You could feel your heart speed up as she started listing some names.

"Is it Beckham? That piece of shit always too full himself." Ise places a hand on her chin in thought. "Or Ringo? Nah, he's way too focused on content map-building."

There's a pause of silence before an 'aha!' look spreads through her face. You prayed that she would get it wrong but this is Ise we're talking about.

"Is it perhaps," Ise pauses, eyes darting all over your face. "Mizu—"

"What about me?"

The three of you tense, eyes darting behind you as you turn to find the familiar stance of your boss. She leans forward, a hand on the back of your chair as she gives the three of you a curious glance. You hadn't heard her at all, and something about Ise's frantic glance towards you says she didn't expect the same thing as well.

"W-we we're just listing people we found attractive," Ise laughs uncomfortably under Mizu's stare. The creative director glances at Akemi who raises an eyebrow at her. Somehow there was a silent conversation going on between the two that left you confused.

"Really?" Mizu asks, the ends of her words trailing off as she glances back at Ise. "Who said I was attractive?"

"It was Y/—"

"NO ONE!" You exclaimed, cutting Ise off with a jump. You flush under Mizu's wide gazed, surprised at your interference. Somehow, the way you said it implied that no one found her attractive at all, and that was way too wrong so you caught yourself before you delved into a pit of despair. "I mean, w-we haven't started and was just listing people off."

Mizu nods slowly in understanding, eyes examining your face for any slip-ups. You looked away from the intensity.

Ise finally saves your ass. "Yeah. What she said."

"What about you, Director?" Akemi chimes in from your left and both you and Ise turn to her with wide gazes. She simply smiles over her cup, face contorted in a mischievous look. You couldn't read Mizu at all. You had expected Akemi to drop it—after all, she wasn't even joining in on Ise's incessant need to know everything about everyone. "Who do you find the most attractive in this office, hm?"

You can feel Mizu shifting behind you before a chuckle pulls out from her lips. You turn towards her in curiosity as she flashes a smile towards you.

"I'd pick Y/N, of course,"

Huh?

Akemi rolls her eyes, somehow already expecting the answer. Your jaw drops at her response as Mizu turns to Ise who already has a knowing look on her face.

"She's just that reliable," Mizu looks back down towards you, those shades of blue peeking from her tinted glasses. She pinches your cheek in a flash before pulling away. "Cute too."

You turn away, afraid that the flush on your cheeks might've given you away.

"Anyways, I just dropped by to see what's happening outside the event," Mizu sighs, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "I'll see you girls around."

Your interactions always end up one sided somehow. She gives and then leaves—resulting in you malfunctioning from whatever she's left for you to deal with.

Ise turns to you with a mischievous grin when Mizu finally turns the corner. "You and the Director huh?"

"Shut up, oh my God."

+1

"Why do you always do stuff like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're not leaving me any room to process the shit you do?"

Mizu lets out quiet laughs from beside you. 10:47 pm. Normally, work hours in the office end at about 9 but you've learned that staying late is where the good things happen.

"I literally just told you 'good job' the other day and you malfunctioned in front of me," Mizu giggles, leaning forward as she tapped you on the nose with the pen to her digital tablet. "And I heard everything by the way. Quite adorable of you to deny everything."

You flush under her affectionate gaze. "Everyone's so gossipy. You can't blame me."

Mizu turns her chair towards you, arms reach out to take a hold of your own before pulling them close to her side. You lean back at her sudden proximity.

"Well you can't blame me either when you're this adorable," Mizu grins. You furrow your eyebrows, finally leaning close as you cupped her cheeks within your palms.

"You even drank beer," You whisper, tone apologetic. "You don't even like alcohol."

Mizu leans into your touch. "And you don't like being pressured into something you don't want to do. I can sacrifice a little bit of something I don't like just for you."

You melt at her words, eyes darting over her softened features. "Thank you," You whisper, grateful.

"Anything for my girlfriend," Mizu teases. You roll your eyes before pulling her into a soft kiss. She kisses back instantly, hands gripping the arm chair as you take lead of the kiss. After a few pecks and chaste kisses here and there, you finally pull back—reveling in the soft flush across Mizu's cheeks.

"Also," You chime in. Mizu raises an eyebrow. "I was the one who pursued, not you. Correct that when they catch on."

Mizu chuckles at your words. "Right on. Akemi threatened me the other day, saying something like, 'I forbid you from dating Y/N Y/L/N, Mizu Tagawa!' Funniest shit, I've heard. If only she knew."

You pinch her cheeks, giggling at her words. "Of course, she's say that."

There's a pause of silence before Mizu turns to her work, a sketch of VALORANT's newest agent displayed on screen.

"Want to help me with the new guy?" She nudges towards the screen. "Heard he's French."

You turn to her monitor, dozens of details sketched on the edges with a version of her idea of the new agent. You grin, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"You could've just asked me to marry you." You tease. "Also, sure."

You turn towards the table and pulled her tablet towards you. Mizu scoffs as you take over her work.

"And if I actually did?"

"Sure, Mizu, sure."

"I'm serious!"

a/n: hey guys!!! this was so fun to write and honestly i was just inspired to do this request bc ive been drafting an office romance for mizu after the roommate thing. hope yall enjoyed ! if yall arent familiar with valorant, here are the agents mentioned or referenced (neon & chamber (french guy)). also mizu's last name is derived from master eiji's va! cary-hiroyuki tagawa!

[nkyslover]

` ` RED LIGHTS AND STOP SIGNS!

somehow, gojo satoru seems to not see the lights turn red, and crashes his car into yours. how blind can somebody be!? the car was right from the showroom too, maybe he'll be willing to pay compensation? wait, wait! don't get your hopes up! he'll probably flirt his way out of it...

content warnings! — slight nsfw suggestions, satoru being clumsy and a complete flirt, reader has a temper, sarcastic satoru, lowkey an enemies to lovers! this is filled with fluff btw, idk this is triggering plz lmk if it is guys!!

mara's notes! — guys first fic, sorry if its a little short☹️☹️, thank u to mark pookie @wizzarabl with helping with finding prompts and inspo!! GO CHECK HIM OUT GUYS!! hope u alllllll enjoy this! requests are open <3.

skrrrrrt!

your eyes widen, and your flung a little forward in your seat as a loud gasp escapes your glossy pink lips. your frozen as your car stops its shaking.

did somebody just hit my car!?

your hand flies to the seat belt, opening it as you rush to open the car door and step out of the now damaged car. "are you kidding me..." you manage to mutter as your heels click on the rough pebble of the road, you manoeuvre sound the car.

a gasp louder than the first fills the air as you eye the damaged contents.

okay, it wasn't that bad, but it wasn't even okay either!

maybe you were a tad bit dramatic.

you hear the sound of another car door opening, shoes hitting the rough ground of the road. your head whips to the side, and your eyes flicker to a person stumbling over, barely standing upright.

the white haired man stands, his height very intimidating considering the fact that he stood atleast more than 6 inches higher from you.

the most infuriating thing was how insanely pretty he was.

he hit your car!? are you sure it was him?

he looked... not upset. totally like he didn't just smash your car that you were driving back from the showroom.

"are you blind!?" you exclaim. ouch, maybe that was a little too loud. "it was a red light, and you were going at 40!"

he blinks, before he cocks his head to the side, failing to keep a grin off his face.

"sorry sweetheart, couldn't see." obviously he couldn't see, who wears sunglasses in winter!? "your joking.. i just bought this car!" you complain, a frown painting your lips. "literally." you mumble, shoulders slumping as you eye the damage made.

his sharp gaze flickers to the car, and he cocks an eyebrow. "oops." he speaks, voice smooth as he moves forward to stand beside you. "well, i'm sure a little work would patch this baby back up."

"its a car, not a toy."

"no shit." a scoff leaves your mouth at his bluntness. "i want compensation for this." you speak up, you felt like you were gonna explode.

he blinks, head turning to look down at you, a smile forming on his face. "compensation?" the air suddenly felt hotter, uh oh.

your head shoots to the side, gaze locking with his. "huh— yeah, compensation. its either compensation or i swear to god, i will report you, and get your licence taken off you—" that's if he has one...

"calm down, princess. i dunno, what type of compensation ya' wanting?"

it clicked. the gears in your head turned, he meant something else. or he thought what you said had a whole different meaning.

"excuse me?" your jaw drops. "cash, cash would be preferable." you cut him off before he can speak, quickly suggesting (or rather telling, or maybe demanding—) what you actually meant.

"cash?"

"cash."

"can i get your number first?" your brows furrow. "my number?" "it's for the compensation." he smiles, but anyone would know he's up to no good. your quiet, as if thinking about it.

before you know it, he's saved you down in his contacts.

"oh, by the way... is there a way i can pay the compensation without the cash? y'know, a date would be preferable."

[pumpkinsy0]

could you do more johnny and curly interacting and their little rival thingy cause of ponyboy (y'know what i mean)

how u gonna tell me what i know🤨🤨

•theyve literally never interacted before hand, they rlly just dont rock together, they dont even have a reason to beef w each other, they rlly just do not like each other that much right off the bat and johnnys like the only one in the curtis gang where thats the case

•those feelings only grew when pony got w curly, johnny would try to be respectful towards curly but curly just brushes him off

•their rivalry is more lowkey id say, compared to everyone else its not THAT bad, they mostly talk down about the other only to pony, never to their faces

•johnny is a lil scared of the shepards so he doesnt say anything that might anger him, shit he doesnt even allow himself to be left alone w the guy, but thats more so bc he thinks it would be awkward, so if ponys leaving, johnny trails right behind

•if johnny has something to say about curly, he only tells pony, he doesnt want what he says to be spread around and then next thing u know theres an angry shepard in front of his face

•when it comes to curly, COULD he talk badly about johnny to his face?? yea he could, but pony would be very upset w him if he did and curly just doesnt see the point because “the guy already seems like a scaredy cat”

•shit they dont rlly make eye contact either, johnny kinda looks at him but not for long, curly doesnt look at johnny bc of general disinterest/aloofness, he has nothing in common w johnny in his eyes so he sees no purpose, they arent gonna connect the way pony hopes

•johnny HATTTEEEESSSS when curlys flirty w pony while hes right there, if theyre getting flirty, johnny mumbles that maybe they shouldnt do that here bc its wide in the open, curly makes eye contact w johnny, asking “what was that??” bc he rlly didnt hear him (also bc he doesnt like being told what to do) and johnny looks away, pony just agrees w johnny and turns it down a bit, telling curly to calm down too

•johnny is like the only one willing to give pony and curly a chance however, pony obviously sees something the rest of em dont, but that doesnt mean hes not worried for pony being around curly, he constantly tells pony “i hope u know what ur doing”

•curly does get johnny riled up sometimes tho, curly can make ANYONE upset

•but what rlly gets johnny upset is when curly calls him a kid even though hes literally older than him, that rlly grinds johnnys gears

[writersblockended]

Miguel O’Hara - HC

Warnings: no translated Spanish, other than that none??? Just fluff

Miguel O’Hara x reader

First of all that man is extremely romantic

He comes off as a serious man but did you see how he’s able to get bat shit crazy like he did for miles?

So he’s 100% capable of feeling intense emotions and SHOWS it. He’s got no problem with it

So he will shower you with gifts, sugar daddy style

One day you’ll see something in your closet or outside your door and think…I’ve never bought this before did i?

Honestly it didn’t take much to put two and two together, so you would just ask him about it

“Miguel, what did I tell you about buying me things, I’m not gonna have enough space for everything at some point you know?”

“I don’t dont know what you’re talking about.”

You’ll just roll your eyes, he’s never going to learn is he?

He is also jealous, but not controlling

He respects you and trusts you, but he doesn’t trust others

So if you’re in HQ to visit him and you find yourself talking to the different spidermen…

Hobie would be talking to you about politics and the importance of unions for workers, you would animatedly reply

And then walks Miguel…he saw you both and he knew you were going to surprise him

But he couldn’t help but feel jealous

Why couldn’t you go straight to him?

I think those feelings of jealousy come from his fear of losing people

You turn around and see Miguel, you smile

“Hey babe, cómo estás mi amorcito? Te quise sorprender pero ya veo que ya me viste”

“Hola, i see you two are talking, but that can wait. Ven contigo amor.”

You follow him to his lair (or rlly was is it …an office?)

And you go “okay what is it, did you need anything?”

“No, I just wanted you for myself.”

This makes you laugh, honestly Hobie is harmless and Miguel knows this. But he can’t help but feel threatened

He just wants you for himself really.

He’s also a huge cuddle bug, but he doesn’t show his affection in public. He doesn’t have an image to maintain doesn’t he?

At HQ he won’t kiss you unless everyone’s distracted, or he’ll have you sit on his lap while no one’s around.

Honestly it’s so easy to take naps while he’s working on things, those arms are quite literally pillows.

But at home? Oh my god, he’s like him stuck to your hair on a hot day

He will drop that persona and just simply attach himself to you and the nearest piece of furniture.

He will kiss you up and want to lay in bed so he’s fully on you

Sometimes he will fall asleep on you entirely, and he will wake up in the middle of the night panicking thinking he’s hurt you with his huge body

“No te hecho nada no mi amor? Fuck you should’ve told me I fell asleep on you babe”

“Oh my god Miguel you act as if you’ weight a ton, besides it’s no big deal”

He’s honestly such a worrier with you, he just wants you to be happy with him, so sometimes he will overanalyze every aspect of his relationship and you can see the gears turning everytime

Thats when you’ll reassure him and let him know he’s doing great, that he’s an amazing man who should not feel as if you are going to leave him. That simply won’t happen.

He also loved it when you take care of him, mostly bc he’s neglecting himself and it feels good to have someone do that for you u know?

If you give him a massage after a particular long day or tend to his wounds if he’s injured

He will just look at you with these loving glazed eyes and he will just melt under your touch

He acts tough but inside he’s like melted butter, softest guy you will ever meet.

He’s actually so emotional, he’s just good at hiding it

So if you guys argue, he’s upset and will look cranky at work

Once he gets home he sees you and your cold gaze and he will absolutely beg on his knees for your forgiveness, it makes you feel bad instantly, so you forgive him

All in all, your relationship with him is super stable and loving.

So yea this is me attempting to write after two years 😭🫣

Let me know if you guys like it cus idk I’m thinking of going back to writing fanfics and drabbles and all that good stuff ;)

Requests are open!!

[kristlewrites]

"Limitless"

CW: Oral (F!receiving), nicknames (my girl,baby,mamas), smut, established relationship, unprotected sex

PAIRING: Toji x Blk!FemReader

WC: 1.3k

🫧🗯️: omg...sorry guys it took me so long to put this out, it literally been week since my last fic. I appreciate all the support ive received over my hiatus and you guys enjoy this as well!! Its not proof read since ive been in such a rush to publish this...

MINORS DNI

It was Saturday night. You had just come back from a long shift at the hospital. Slipping off your crocs, you quickly remove your scrubs and lay them on the dining table. You hurry to the bathroom, peeling away all your undergarments and turning up the water. You enter swiftly going straight in and wasting no time scrubbing your body up and down making sure you get all the corners. Stepping out of the shower leaving a little trail of water everywhere you go, you dry your body and moisturize. Putting on your nightgown you finally rest down on your bed, feeling ten times more exhausted than before.

Opening your phone you see you have received a test from your boyfriend. Fighting the urge to sleep, you read it.

‘Roof is leaking. Again .’

‘I'm coming over’

‘How was work?’

You sigh, Tojis house always had something going on. You always offered him to stay over or even move in but he always declined the offer. Maybe it was because he was too proud or maybe he didn't want to be a burden on you, but you always appreciate it when he's here. So that's why you were super excited when he said he was coming over, but that smile faded a little bit when you heard a knock on your door. ‘How'd he get here so fast?' You thought to yourself while removing your covers. You stroll towards the living room going straight for the door. Your little black cat scratching her back against the door. "Watch out baby” you whisper, grabbing your small cat and placing her down away from the door. 

Opening the door you are greeted by a 6ft tall man, drenched and with a small bag on his shoulder. 

“What happened?” 

“I told you, my roof had a leak.” Toji replied a little 

“A leak?" You said raising your voice a little “Hello you're soaked, hurry come in”

You say gesturing to him to enter your apartment and him leaving a little trail of water on the floor boards. You make a note to clean it up later. He goes to your bathroom and gets cleaned up. Meanwhile you clean around your apartment, fatigue still plaguing you, you decide to take a rest on the couch until he's done.

You feel a light tap on your shoulder startling you awake. Your eyes focus on the tall man hovering over your face, water droplets drop down on your forehead, you look up and see that Tojis hair still hasn't dried yet. “How long have I been asleep?” You mutter looking around for your phone. “Sit down” you order Toji, grabbing the towel off his shoulder offering to dry his hair. He sits down beneath you on the carpet, grabbing the remote and turning on criminal minds. (litcherally my fave show lmao)

While you are drying his hair you guys talk about your days and recent events taking this time to catch up. Toji looks up at you with a little smile sneaking up his face. You remove his hair from his forehead and affectionately give him a small peck on his forehead. He laughs lightly at your gesture. You feel a sharp pang in your stomach. You think back and realize that you haven't eaten since your lunch break at 5pm?!! “Are u hungry?” You ask Toji, bending your neck so he can see you properly.

“Mm” he thinks “yea” he confirms with a devilish glare on his face. You didn't think anything of it until he turned and geared straight towards your pussy. Shocked, you smash your palm onto his face before he gets to do anything else. 

“I asked you if you were hungry..” you say

“I am” He pouts a little, you can feel his frown through your palm.

“Well, not for food clearly” You say rolling your eyes

“Baby please, i haven't seen you in forever” Toji says pleading beneath your hand.

“Fine” You say finally giving in. Almost instantaneously he dives straight for your clit, tearing your panties in the process. You flinch at the contact of his warm tongue meeting your folds. Taking his time he swims his tongue around the surface of your cunt while his hands reach up your nightgown finding your nipples. He twists them with ease causing your whole body to go in circuit. It has been awhile since either of yall have seen each other or even had time for yall selves and maybe that was why you were super reactive to even the slightest of his touch.

“Seems like my girl has missed me too” Toji remarks grinning slightly, referring to your already wet pussy. Leaking out like a faucet. Toji teases your entrance by wagging his tongue just right before it, making you impatient. He uses his hands to pry your thighs open, then he enters your pussy licking your clit up and down. Your back immediately arches at the sensation causing your breath to hitch. He continues to crawl into your pussy lapping up the wetness that was leaking out. 

‘Mm’ you moan from the way Toji roams around your cunt, having your brain short circuit from the feeling. Not being able to control yourself you wrap your legs around his back reeling him into you more.

“mmph u gonna suffocate me baby”

“s-sorry” you mumble softly

“Well,” Toji said grinning, “I wouldn't mind dying here,” he says, finishing it off with a chuckle.

You were too brain dead to even react properly, with Toji invading your insides wiggling his tongue inside your cunt. Your toes curled, eyes rolling back, you feel your release almost immediately flooding down onto tojis face. Him lapping up all your juices like a dog. 

“So sweet mamas, just how I like it.” He says his face is covered with your orgasm. 

He retracts his head from your entrance, raising himself up. You can clearly see the bulge peeking through his sweats. In haste he removes his pants and boxers in one go. Revealing his long throbbing cock. Leaking with pre-cum he smoothly injects it into your pussy causing you to gasp. 

"I-it's t-too deep” you mutter

“C’mon it hasn't even been that long has she forgotten me already?” Toji says smirking, sweat pacing down his forehead. He lifts you up, you wrap your legs around him. 

“Mm” you moan softly as Toji thrusts you up and down. Your toes curl at the fast pace, you lean your head onto his shoulder resting from the fatigue. How Toji has so much energy you could never understand you swear he is a beast. 

“Its okay close your eyes ill take care of everything” Toji whispers softly in your ears. You grip onto his sweaty back for extra support, your black acrylics marking all over. He continues to rock into you until you can feel his dick twitch in your pussy. You feel Toji retract his dick but you stop him. 

“N-no i want you to cum in me..” You say breathless and almost on the verge of passing out “Please..i'm on the pill” you whine, you move your hand over your stomach where you can see his bugle imprinted onto you

“Haaa, are you sure?” Toji asks

“Mhm” you nod quietly, tears leaving your eyes.

And with no second to think Toji immediately releases into you shoving all his up your pussy. You can feel his cum leaking out of you as he fills you up.

“Ah” you squeal, cumming as well, flooding down out your pussy attaching to his chest. You both are out of breath. 

Both of you were snuggled underneath a blanket, your head resting on his chest listening to his heartbeat. While he was munching on the wings you decided to order wings. You put on twilight. He hates it and thinks it's a waste. Secretly you think he enjoys it but he wants to be different. And the movie fit the atmosphere, it was a rainy October night. What other movies would you guys watch??

[silviakundera]

Melody of Golden Age ep 1-2 watch comments

"Even a ghost claiming lives has personal desires."

Empress Dowager ruling behind the curtain

Head of the Imperial Guards!ML is slightly unusual, that's more commonly the role we see in second male leads/supporting character who backs up the ML.

But because they've made him the ML, he's of course Super Respected & Very Serious Business Guy

I appreciate how OTT melodramatic the ML is. His intro is The Double-esque.

I also appreciate that we can actually tell that armor is supposed to be heavy.

Decent costuming & sets - not historically accurate but the story isn't trying to be. It looks decent (not just cheap fabric & props), creates a sense of time & place. You can tell the clothes have a sense of weight, like they should. tbh my expectations were low, so I didn't expect it to look so good.

So the guy over the Inspectorate is a dick. Noted.

ML has the backing of the Empress Dowager. So tons of political players resent him. A bit precarious.

FL is non-descript but that's not necessarily a bad thing. She just acts like a normal person. After just trying 2 dramas where the actress does this thing where she opens her mouth & eyes wide as she talks and constantly looks unsure/startled and almost sounding-out her words, it's refreshing to see an actress just... talking

Assassination attempt! FL is in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Inspectorate dude most definitely a dick.

LMAO the slo-mo on the ML and the not-at-all-scary dogs 😂😭

ML was the son of a convicted official, huh? Who rose to captain of the guard? not bad, my dude, but who was his benefactor and will they turn out to be SECRETLY EVIL???

FL knows ML from somewhere but is he pretending not to remember, because he just that dramatic

Young orphan boy wants to become FL's disciple. He's cute and hopefully not Secretly Evil (look, SOMEONE is gonna be secretly evil, let's just face facts)

FL is gonna be sister in law to ML but is that truly all she "remembers" about him? ugh her sister has that cutesy way of speaking that grinds my gears. Please!! don't purse your lips and talk wide-mouthed like a child 😭

FL family are not fans of marrying their fav daughter to the dramatic guard leader. FL's concubine mom: "It's quite good to be ignorant and uneducated!"

so there's a reason ML doesn't want this marriage bestowed: the prime minister can threaten their family, pressuring the married in daughter to spy on ML and share info

but engaged sister has fled with a scholar! 😱 how predictible! Except our ML and FL already met, so she will need ML's participation in the subterfuge

LMAOOOOOOOOO ML cannot move a finger without slow mo and an orchestra. can't even trot his horse down the street 😭 buddy is just going for an evening ride stoppppppp

ML is being so omnious and unnecessarily threatening, he knows that girl fled right?

The way they have ML and FL face off so far isn't bad, compared to other low-grade idol dramas - he is above her in status and the way he speaks to her very much reflects that but it never feels to me like he is treating her like a child, simply a lowly constable (he's just That Bitch). She asserts herself with frustration & anger, but she doesn't throw temper tantrums, stamp her feet and pout.

Bad guys are in masks. 🕵

Oh yeah, I knew it - ML is betting on the bride's family to cancel. He knows that 3rd sister won't show.

FL just like, "I'll be the bride" - girl I know ya'll don't want to die for defying the monarch but he literally knows who u are. Like you've had 3 conversations and he knows your name. What's the plan??

lmao he shows up just to be intimidating and point a sword in her face. I would try to sell him on fake-spying.

Huh. He actually doesn't need any convincing! Doesn't press about deceiving the monarch and lets it go. There's been multiple indications that he's a drama queen who had created this image but he has a soft side underneath. He's given her a way out twice now when it would have been easy & convenient to let her die.

ML is right that this marriage isn't much of a threatening conspiracy when everyone knows what's up. He's ridiculous but also sensible.

I hate her sister-friend, do not stay PLEASE go home. you are on my last nerve.

oh naturally ML and FL met as children and there's a token. there's always a childhood token.

ML can't even walk into a room without dramatics asdgghjkl

tbh I feel like he is actually a lot nicer about things than he could have been. other than some threatening, he's just gonna let her live there as long as she doesn't spy on him.

[rodolfoparras]

Soap Alphabet; G= Goofy, K=Kinks, L=Locations, 18+, MINORS DNI, | insp by this.

Pairing: John Soap Mactavish x male reader

content tags: handjobs, exhibitionism, glove fetishism (I think that's the word idk Soap likes getting u off with his gloves on)

Stand alone/ part of a series

A/N: I've been seeing this a-z alphabet thing going around here and on tiktok and wanted to give it a shot, this is meant to be a blurb of some sort, I just dont know how to shut up thats why its a wee bit long.

“You want head ?” Soap asks as he nudges you with his shoulder.

You turn your head to the side to look at him, and despite the mask that you’re wearing he knows you’re raising a brow at him. “We’re literally at a stake out”

“So ?” He asks with a shrug, not really seeing any issue with having his mouth on your cock while on the clock “You’ll keep watch while I do all the work. Well technically we both will be doing the work” he says, chuckling at his own joke.

You turn your head straight forward, gaze falling upon the soldier stationed a bit further away from the two of you “What about him?

Soap turns his head to the soldier as well (what’s his name again? Marvin something?) only to see him being as oblivious as ever to the pairs of eyes burning into the back of his neck. “What about him?” Soap asks as if nothing could deter him from this side quest, not even the presence of someone else.

“He’ll see” you try to explain, as if he’s somehow forgotten about the potential consequences while forming this great plan.

“That’s what we got this bad boy for” he says and gestures to the rock laying in front of you. It’s rather large in size and manages to hide two grown soldiers pretty easily. The only thing is that it has a large opening in the middle of it but as long as one lays low (which the two of you have been doing) onlookers are only able to see your heads and shoulders. Technically he’d be able to suck-

You can't believe that you’re actually considering this.

But once you realize there’s really not much to do here anyway other than lay around in the dirt (something you’ve been doing for a good hour or so), you agree to his suggestion.

“Hell yeah “ he cheers once you agree to do it. You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm as you roll over to lay on your back, while the other man stays laying on his stomach. Once you’re laying on your back and your head’s propped up on the heavy stone, he scoots down to be eye level with your lower half. His hands are quick to find their way to the waistband of your pants, wrestling with the belt and fumbling with the buttons.

“Fucking gear- can’t take it off- why are these things so heavy- oh thank fuck “ he says once he manages to take them off and before you know it you’re stripped down to your underwear, cold air caressing your exposing skin and sending goosebumps through your entire body.

“Oh you’re really into this idea” he says, taking note of the way your half hard cock presses against the fabric of your underwear.

“Can I tell you something?” He says as he starts trailing kisses up the expanses of your thigh “been thinking about this for a long time now” he explains as he runs his hands down the sides of your body“ you know getting to suck you off on a mission, I’d make sure we’re safe off course but you get the gist of it no?” he continues to say , and fucking nuzzles up against your dick.

“Wait” he almost shouts ”can I use gloves for this?” he asks and it almost looks like he’s fucking giving you puppy eyes.

“Yes yes, just get on with it Mactavish “ you say, annoyance clearly showing on your face as you tug at his hair in warning.

“Oh-oh-alright geez just thought I’d ask for consent, it’s important you know “ he says, clearly still teasing and clearly enjoying himself.

“And I really appreciate it babe but I really need your mouth on my co-“

All of sudden gloved hands pry at the waistband of your underwear, tugging your boxers down to your knees, and freeing your dick.

The cold air is rather unkind to your sensitive skin, raising goosebumps all over your body every time the wind caresses it.

“Will get u all warm real soon give me a minute yeah?” He says, noticing the goosebumps that rises on your skin as he spits onto your dick and on the glove he’s wearing. “What? Need lots of it” he says and shrugs innocently once he takes notice of the look you give him.

At last he wraps a gloved hand around your dick, warmth emanating from his palm as he starts stroking root to tip.

Your head hits the rock with a soft thud, eyes squeezing shut, heavy breaths escaping your lips, as you allow yourself to relax in his grip.

His pace is slow and gentle at first, as to not hurt you with the rough material of the glove. The spit does aid in making the movements much more fluid but you can still feel the fabric tugging and taunting sensitive skin, leaving you hissing every time it grazes your sensitive tip. Apologetic fingers are quick to soothe the sting, slicked with spit and thumbing at the tip. But despite the slight pain that comes with each and every stroke, you find yourself welcoming it, hips bucking into the palm of his hand.

“Oh fuck yes, you look so hot right now, Can’t believe you’re letting me do this, dear god” his hand settles on a slow and gentle pace, but it quickly turns careless and eager once your cock’s fully hard and weeping. A curious thumb goes to collect the precum dribbling from the tip, smearing it all around the head before he continues stroking your dick.

You’re twitching in his grasp, hips bucking into the palm of his hand and boots digging into the muddy ground “please, please, please ”

He ignores your pleas, solely focused on the sight in front him. “I have been thinking about this so much, you don’t even know, wanted to see my gloved hand wrapped around your cock, can’t believe you let me do it, love you so much”

He soon settles for a steady pace, occasionally he’ll twist his hand close to the tip, making you furiously buck up against him.

“Fuck fuck fuck” you moan as you continually thrust up into the palm of his hand. You’re sure by this point the soldier must’ve heard something, but you’re far gone to care, heels digging further into the floor as he speeds up the pace of his hand.

“Shh he’ll hear” he says with a chuckle as he presses his lips against yours in an attempt to suppress your moans.

“Fuck him” you whine out against his lips, hands burying in his hair to keep him close to you.

“Actually I was hoping you’d fuck me” he says with a wolfish grin on his face as he quickens his pace.

Another moan, much louder than the previous one escapes your lips.

“As much as I like hearing the pretty noises you make, we need to be quiet for the next part or else we’ll blow our cover” he says, once again reminding you of the soldier who’s still very much present.

He goes to take off the glove on his other hand, successfully pulling it off by just using his mouth before he palms the thing and gestures for you to take it.

“This isn’t part of your fantasy is it?” You pant, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Maybe” he shrugs innocently but there’s no missing his devious grin. “But you’ll still need this “

“Then get to it” is all you say , as you bite down on the glove, tasting leather on your tongue.

“With pleasure” he says before he goes to bury his head between your legs.

[Once it’s all over and done you hear the Scotsman say to himself “Saving this as a souvenir “ before he pockets the two gloves he’d been using.

“You’re one strange man, Mactavish, you know?”]

[skinnywalker]

hii! could u do Sam Winchester nsfw headcanons? tysm <3

NSFW ABCs for Sam Winchester

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

So so sweet. All he wants to do is care for you after sex

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his legs and how they pin down your chest.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He really likes cumming inside you but he understands caution so it's more up to you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes hair pulling. Like A LOT but he is too scared to tell you because for how careful he is with his hair.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sam has had sex and he has quite a lot of tips and tricks but being a Winchester means he still isn't used to a long term relationship.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or mating press.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He isn't super serious or super goofy. It's really just how you are both feeling.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is always shaved and sometimes waxed cause he is Sam.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

So romantic. Literally always so sweet and intimate.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Really never does. Even when you're gone just cause he doesn't feel the need. Only really does it if he's been gone a while.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Role-playing, rope play, breeding, and switch.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Most soft places like couches, chairs or beds.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You wearing his clothes or you being wet. Just the thought of you like that gets him streaming.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurting you in anyway.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes giving because it's in his nature but he won't say no to a good blowjob.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Normally slow but sometimes he really just needs you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He doesn't mind them but prefers to take his time.

A little but Sam is always taking risks anyway so he does like some normalcy.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Up to 5 but that will clock him out for the night.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He owns a dildo and some bondge gear and will use them on you if you want him to.

Sam does have a bit of a teasing nature but he make sure you get what you beg for.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quiet moaning mostly till he cums and the he whimpers and begs real loud.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He wants to put a baby in you regardless of you gender.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7 inches, cut, with a soft pink tip more long than thick but pretty veiny.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not super high but it's really more about you and what you want.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After he is sure you're ok he gets comfortable and normally fully sleeps once your asleep.