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#I’m so ready for the parallels

local-space-gay · 8 months

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I’m really excited to see what they do with Ricky. I think the first episode did a really good job setting up his character. Right away he starts pointing out these connections between him and Stede, saying that he was also an outcast who went into pirating because of it. They were both wealthy, they enjoy fancy things, they seem pretty similar right?

No.

Because Ricky then starts insulting the other pirates. He looks down on them, he draws clear distinctions between them and the other pirates. He tells Stede that “men of our standing, we know a valuable when we see one.” When he mentions the Roman puzzle chest. Ricky clearly sees himself as better than the other pirates because of his status and wealth.

But Stede doesn’t. Sure, Stede is judgy and catty, but he never makes anyone on his crew feel bad or lesser than for not being of high status and genuinely cares for them. He also eagerly wanted to learn about pirating from them, he looked up to them and asked for their advice! Unlike Ricky, who is clearly still clinging onto that superiority, which gets him caught by Jackie when decides to be cocky and make a drink so they “know they’ve been robbed by the best.”

Which is why I think he’s going to end up resenting Stede for “planting” these ideas in his head and go after him, and he’s going to have to realize that he simply doesn’t understand piracy. Izzy’s quote about “belonging to something” makes so much sense when you see the lack of community or solidarity he has with pirates vs. Stede finding community with people who accept him

#I’m so ready for the parallels #ofmd #our flag means death #our flag #ofmd 2 #ofmd stede #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd speculation #our flag means spoilers #Stede bonnet #our flag means gay

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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 9 months

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The idea that GRRM is anti Tolkien is particularly funny because ASOIAF is sprinkled with rather intricate (and even passionate) homages to LOTR. And I can’t help but think of how Tolkien’s Fellowship, more specifically the Hobbits, may have inspired GRRM’s Night’s Watch. Jon Snow, for starters, is in many ways a combination of LOTR’s Frodo and Aragorn. And in the same way that Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin are unexpected heroes in LOTR (because who looks to a hobbit as the face of an epic adventure?), Jon the bastard becomes the leader of a ragtag of socially disenfranchised men (in the form of the NW) who are anything but heroic. Sure there’s the odd knight or noble in there, but the NW is quite full of criminals and the very worst of the social order. The hobbits aren’t the strongest or the sharpest but they become the face of the fight against Sauron. And the NW, while being severely undermanned and under-equipped, has become the main force that stands against winter. GRRM even adds a love letter to Tolkien’s Sam Gamgee by adding his on Sam - Sam Tarly - who acts as a moral compass and counselor to Jon, in the same ways that Sam Gamgee is key to Frodo’s journey. And just like Frodo, Jon gets his very own pair of jokester friends, one of whine is even named Pyp. So it’s all very beautiful and nice, and we should talk about it more because it’s super evident that GRRM is a massive Tolkien fanboy. But I do have to say tho, GRRM’s take on Gandalf is exceedingly hilarious just because Melisandre is famously very bad at her job.

#asoiaf #lord of the rings #lotr #Gandalf - old and scary and very competent at his job #Mel - very old very scary and displays varying levels of competence #jokes aside another cool parallel between Jon and Frodo is that both #choose to embark on this dangerous journey because who else will do it?#Lots of arguing about who will destroy the ring who should have it etc and Frodo is just like #I’m ready to do what needs to be done even if it takes me to Mordor #Which is very similar to Jon who watches the rest of Westeros bicker about some stupid chair #And he’s willing to sacrifice his life and win no glory to save humanity in the face of an existential threat #And don’t think I need to get too much into Jon’s similarities with Aragorn because they’re plain as day #Also the iron throne and the ring of power having cool parallels?#Anyway asoiaf is so heavily inspired by LoTR and grrm is a such a huge fanboy #It’s insane that people think he hates Tolkien or whatever #jon snow #sam tarly #pyp #grenn #the night’s watch #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #merry brandybuck #pippin took #melisandre of asshai #gandalf #valyrianscrolls

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luveline · 9 months

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Bombshell reader is my queen. What would happen if she like got hold hostage or something? She’s usually so confident, I’m sure going thru that would rough her up. Would Spencer take up the more ‘active’ role and take care of her

tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k

Spencer doesn't know if you're aiming for him when you come out but he grabs you as soon as he can get his hands on you. You were running hard enough to wind him, breathless yourself as you gasp into his shoulder. He can't feel you right wearing the FBI vest, desperate to take it off.

You won't let him go.

It must've been bad inside to panic you like this. "Are you okay?" he asks, forcing you away to check you over. "Do you need medical?" He's mildly hysterical.

"No," you say, eyes closed, shaking your head until he lets you back into his arms. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine–"

"Spencer, I'm fine."

Spencer can't remember the last time you called him Spencer. He's used to Spence, babe, baby, handsome. He's even used to your hand on his elbow to say hello without speaking. So no matter what you say, he knows you're not fine.

Spencer leads you over to the back of an ambulance, where you glare at him. You've definitely never done that before.

"I don't need medical–"

"You have to get checked out." He's definitely never spoken to you like that. Terse, his hands on your arms to stop you from getting up. "Non-negotiable."

Your eyes shine with betrayal while the EMTs check your vitals. You have a bruise like whiplash against your neck that's tender to the touch, wincing as they prod it with their white gloved fingers. You're acting peculiarly but not outside of the realm of reasonable.

A car backfires somewhere in the street and you flinch. "Spence," you say, looking up at him through your lashes, "can we go?"

He waits for a nod. "Yeah, we can go."

The issue is that you can't stand. You push up, you blink, and you sit down hard again, making a small pained sound from the back of your throat that Spencer cant abide by. "What's wrong with her?" he asks.

"Adrenaline." The EMT squeezes your shoulder affectionately. "You're alright, hun. You can sit here until you feel ready."

She and her partner take a break in the front of the ambulance and tell you to shout if you need help. Spencer hesitates for a few seconds, looking down at you with a quick assessment of behaviour. He finds the things that are wrong with you —shaking hands, painful contusion against your throat, obvious emotional distress, weak legs— and he runs through options on how he's going to help you.

Spencer takes your hands into his, just a little smaller, less skinny, and way softer. He doesn't know whether he can truly smell your hand cream or if he knows the scent from the hundreds of times watching your routine. You take it from the pocket in your purse, squeeze the smallest bit from the tub, and rub it in slow circles around your palms. It calms you in your rare wounded moments, and Spencer imitates that now. He draws gentle circles into your skin, the tremble ever so slightly quelled.

"Is it bad?" he asks you, transferring both of your hands into one. Freed, he trails the knuckles of his left hand parallel to your wicked bruise.

"It hurts." Your eyes are glassy, your lips in a downturn that turns his heart. "Hurt my ego."

"He got a cheap shot," Spencer says sympathetically, dipping forward to kiss your jaw just above the bruise. You go still. He worries it was the wrong thing to do, but you crane your head forward into his chest.

Your tired sigh is like a rake.

"It's okay. It's okay." He takes your hand again. "We'll ice it at the hotel. With arnica, it'll be gone in a week."

"I was really scared," you murmur.

Sitting as you are in the back of the ambulance, he doesn't have to bend much to press your joined hands to his chest. Eyes shut, that close to one another, Spencer swears he can hear your rapid heart.

"But you made it out. You're always going to make it out, because we have a great team and you're good at what you do. You're strong. Smart. And you're brave, because you got scared and you kept going anyway. You saved someone just now."

You push him away without malice, your perfect eyebrows pinched up at the starts. "I thought maybe this time I wouldn't make it out. Not like me, huh?"

Spencer sits next to you in the ambulance, sliding his fingers into yours with more confidence than he feels. "That's easily explainable. Do you know what working memory is?"

Your stress melds fond. "No."

"Working memory is one of the brain's systems necessary for thought and function. It's important for everything. And when you're under immense pressure, the strength of your working memory depletes– being in a high stakes situation like that, it's natural to choke. It doesn't mean you underperformed. It doesn't mean you let anyone down."

"I never said I let someone down."

"I worried you were thinking about it."

"I was." Your glassy eyes have clarified. Spencer lets out a breath of relief as you raise your hand to his cheek, stroking it briefly with the back of your fingers. "I'm glad you think that, but I doubt Hotch will say the same thing."

"Hotch will tell you well done and make you take mandatory leave for a week. We should regroup with the others." Spencer nudges you in the arm. "I'll write your paperwork if you tell me what to say."

You drop your face into his shoulder. "I'm recovering from a traumatic event. Can't you do the muscle work?"

"Y/N!" Hotch calls, a phone glued to his ear. "Well done. Nothing else tonight." You smile. "You can do the paperwork when you get back next week."

"Ugh."

"Told you. Well done, mandatory leave," Spencer says.

"Excessive," you mutter into his arm. It takes you a few seconds to warm up, and when you do it's like groundhog day, sunshine filtering through the chill, "Thanks, handsome. For everything."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 27 days

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not a top

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘top’

rated e | 510 words | cw: recreational drug use, questionable consent if you squint really hard and close both eyes due to the previously mentioned recreational drug use | tags: unclear relationship at the beginning, anal fingering, anal sex

🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝

“So you’re…not a top?” Eddie asked Steve, high enough to forget how they got on this topic at all, but not high enough to ever forget the way Steve’s hand hadn’t left his thigh for the last ten minutes.

“I’ve never-“ Steve sighed. “Never had sex with a guy, not all the way. So I guess I don’t actually know. But I just kinda feel like I’d enjoy being a bottom more.”

Eddie was ready to propose marriage, maybe offer to give him a home and as many babies as he wants. Maybe he could bribe scientists to figure out how they could biologically have their own kids together.

“What makes you feel that way?” Eddie managed to ask in a high-pitched voice.

Steve shrugged. “Just think I’d like being under someone, being held. I dunno. Sounds stupid out loud.”

“Like fuck it does.”

Steve’s head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

“It doesn’t sound stupid at all. It sounds like you want someone to take care of you and make you feel nice. You don’t have to be a bottom for that, though, if you end up not liking having something in your ass,” Eddie really needed to stop smoking with Steve.

“I do like things in my ass, though.”

Eddie has to stop smoking. Period.

“You said-“

“I said I’ve never had sex with a guy. I didn’t say I haven’t had stuff in my ass,” Steve smirked. “You think I went to Indy with Robin last month and didn’t stop at a sex shop?”

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I did think that.”

“Big mistake.”

“Clearly.”

They sat in a comfortable silence, looking up at the ceiling of Steve’s bedroom. Steve’s hand was still on his thigh, even though the angle probably wasn’t great with how they’d migrated more perpendicular than parallel.

“You should fuck me.”

Eddie sat up.

“I should what? I think I have something in my ears.”

Steve sat up, slower, turning so he was facing Eddie, hand still on his thigh.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“That’s not what you said the first time.”

“It’s what I meant.”

“Steve, I’m honored. But I think the weed is a bit strong for you tonight-“

“Eddie. Kiss me. Touch me. Fuck. Me.”

Eddie was not one for authority, but he was quite good at following directions when it involved getting his lips and hands on a pretty boy.

He kissed Steve. He touched Steve.

He opened Steve up slowly, even when Steve begged for more, faster, harder.

“Need you,” he whined.

God, he whined so pretty.

Eddie was tempted to open him up on a fourth finger, but decided his own cock couldn’t take another second without being inside him.

“Gonna fuck you, sweetheart,” Eddie gasped as he slid the only condom in Steve’s drawer down his length. “Gonna fuck you so good.” He covered himself in lube. “Give you what you need.”

When he bottomed out, Steve sighed.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Eddie kissed his forehead, silent question in his eyes.

“I’m definitely not a top,” Steve winked.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficmay #stranger things

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cherryredstars · 5 months

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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Facesitting, Breast Play, Body Worship, Praise, Aftercare

Summary: darlin' hold me while you wipe my tears, fallin’ you say i’m wise beyond my years

A/N: An anonymous request that I LIVE for!!! Inspired by @osaemu's fic.

Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)

You should have used waterproof mascara.

You should have known no matter how sparkly your dresses were, how perfect your makeup was, or how pretty you looked, he’d always find attention from someone else who did it ten times better. But you had still hoped. Hoped that on your own goddamn birthday, your own boyfriend would spare you even a second of attention. Instead, you’re tilting your head back outside on his shitty mansion’s balcony so your tears don’t ruin your makeup.

If your boyfriend was going to fuck every girl at this party but you, you wanted to at least look somewhat pretty and not like the sad, lonely mess you know you are. You embarrassed yourself enough when you had stormed up to him, interrupted his groupie make out session, and slapped him across the face screaming about breaking up with him. You can feel your chin wobble at the thought, and you sniffle and blink rapidly at the sky in an attempt to banish the new wave of sadness that courses through you. Best present ever! Your late twenties are treating you sooo well!

The sound of the balcony door opening catches your attention, and you’re quick to hastily wipe the tears streaming down your face as you clear your throat. You turn towards the door, ready to give whoever it is a wavering smile and a, Oh! I’m just out getting some fresh air! The smell of cigarettes was so strong haha! I promise I’m not crazy and go around slapping people on my birthday! But, you’re surprised to see Miguel, Gabe’s dad, standing there with a bottle of beer in his hand. And he's staring at you. You sniffle again, blinking rapidly. Gabe’s almost a carbon copy of his father, minus the ruggedness that comes with aging. Miguel also has the working man appearance to him, rough around the edges from hard work that his son doesn’t have. Miguel looks exactly like your usual type, but of course you had to go for his young, stupid son.

You can feel tears beginning to spill from your eyes again and you turn away. You’re sure he’s going to kick you out, question you on why you’re still here after making a scene and slapping his son in front of everyone. You try to muffle your teary hiccup by placing your palm over your mouth as you rest your elbows on your knees. Miguel sighs deeply, moving to sit on the chair parallel to yours. You turn your head slightly as you catch movement, wet eyes noticing the half empty beer bottle Miguel silently holds out for you. You blink at it for a few seconds in confusion, only understanding that he’s offering it to you when he shakes it slightly in his hand.

You pull your mouth away from the palm of your hand and shake your head slightly as you mumble, “I don’t drink.”

He doesn’t say anything in return, taking the bottle back and taking a sip. You study him for a second, waiting for him to get mad or something, but he just looks straight ahead admiring the view as he sips on his beer. After a while, you do the same. You look straight ahead, feeling the tears dry on your face. Your face feels slightly sticky from the tears, and you have a feeling you’ve smudged your mascara and eyeliner.

Now that you’re not focused on crying all the water out of your body, you realize how cold it is outside. You shiver, only lasting a few more minutes before you’ve decided you rather not die of hypothermia tonight. As you’re about to get up, Miguel speaks up.

“I’m sorry about, Gabe. I don’t know how he turned into such an ass. He’s a piece of shit for making a pretty thing like you cry on your birthday.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you. You give him a tight lipped smile, shrugging in mock-indifference.

“It’s okay, I didn’t like him that much anyways, no offense.” Then, to lighten the mood, “I’m not an expert on feelings, but I don’t think he liked me that much either.”

Miguel stares at you like he doesn’t believe you when you say you don’t like him, but it’s the truth. You haven’t really felt anything romantic for Gabe in a while. The only reason you’ve stuck by him was because he’s the only person you really know in Nueva York. But now, you’re all by yourself in this big ass city. At least you love your job.

“Yeah, well, he’s an idiot for letting you go. Trust me, sooner or later he’s going to regret it.” Miguel defends you. He looks personally offended at the thought of his son, or anyone, not liking you.

His words make your smile brighten slightly and you laugh, “Thank you, but I really doubt that. By tomorrow he’ll probably forget I even existed.”

Miguel scowls at that, and you yelp when his hand reaches out and pulls your chair towards his. Your knees knock with his, and you have to hold onto the armrest of his chair to prevent yourself from falling on top of him. You look up at him with wide eyes, breath stifling from how close his face is to yours. Your heart beats erratically as he leans in close, the almost red-brown of his eyes getting more detailed. Your eyes can’t help but trail down to his lips. They’re slightly glossy from his beer, and for the first time, you're tempted to try it.

You’re quickly startled out of your thoughts when Miguel’s hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. They’re slightly hooded as he looks down the end of his nose at you, and you gulp nervously. His thumb caresses your skin gently, and you have to work hard to not close your eyes as he leans his face down. Instead of the kiss you thought he was going to give you, he shifts until his mouth is close to your ear.

Your disappointment quickly disappears as your breath hitches. His breath his warm against your ear as he whispers, “He should have treated you like a fucking queen.”

Your heart skips a beat, eyes dropping to your thigh as Miguel’s other hand moves to rest on it. It kneads the plush skin softly before sliding up and fiddling with the ends of your dress. His hand looks so big on your body. You can feel the calluses on his fingers, they’re rough and cracked. Totally different from the too soft hands of Gabe. The hard difference between a man who works hard to get what he wants and a boy who expects everything served to him on a silver platter.

Miguel’s hand begins to slip under the edge of your dress, and your body straightens with your gasp as his fingers skim the center of your panties. You can practically sense Miguel’s smile as his fingers ever so lightly brush up and down. You can’t help the way your body squirms at his touch, thighs threatening to close around his hand. His fingers float higher and higher, until they’re pressing against your clothed clit. You can feel yourself dripping into your panties and you whine.

“I can treat you like the queen you are.”

Miguel’s voice distracts you from his hand, eyes moving up to his face as he moves away from your ear. His eyes are glossy with lust, something hot in his gaze. You can feel yourself clench around nothing, and based on the way Miguel’s eyes darken, he felt it too. His words pound against the walls of your brain, repeating and stretching as you think up of what he means.

In the end, all you can let out is a: “W-what?”

Behind the lust, Miguel’s eyes flicker in amusement. His hand leaves your chin, sliding up your face until he’s twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “Let me show you how you should be treated. How a man would treat you.”

His proposal burns through your stomach, your eyes blinking rapidly as you breathe in deeply. You can smell the slight tinge of beer mixed with the masculine scent of cinnamon and firewood. It makes your brain dizzy, coaxing you to nod in agreement. Miguel’s hand stops playing with your hair instantly, eyes falling over your face for any sign of indecision. He doesn’t find any, but he still needs verbal confirmation.

“You gotta tell me clearly, baby.” He urges, leaning his face close again.

He’s a millimeter away, your lips brushing against his as you say, “Please.”

Your only warning is the rumbling groan he lets out before he’s catching your lips in a searing kiss. You whine against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. You lean more into him, arms hesitantly coming to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair. Your lips part when you feel his own hand push onto the small of your back, allowing his tongue to slip through. Both of you moan into the kiss when your tongues meet, the remains of bitter beer invading your taste buds. It should be disgusting, should remind you of all the times Gabe slobbered all over your mouth in a drunken make out, but it doesn’t. Miguel is experienced, knowing where to place his hands and where to caress with his tongue. His lips move with calculated confidence where Gabe would open and close his mouth like a fish.

Right as your mind becomes slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen, Miguel pulls away. His eyes are still trained to your lips, now plump and wet with spit. He hisses under his breath, cherishing the yelp you let out as he quickly lifts you as he stands. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, only tightening as he sets you into a bridal-style carry. His sudden display of strength makes you clench your thighs. Gabe never offered to carry you, mumbling something about not wanting his arms to get sore. But Miguel carries you like you weigh nothing, even trusting to support you with a single hand as he opens the sliding door and closes it behind the two of you.

The loud music hits you full blast, the smell of nicotine and alcohol following. From Miguel’s arms, you can see Gabe still on the couch with his entourage of girls. Even from the distance and colored lights, you can see the redness of his cheek where you’ve slapped him. You’re quickly forgetting about him again when Miguel starts moving, carrying you up the stairs. He pauses in front of the door two away from Gabe’s. Miguel’s room. He opens it and locks it behind the two of you, depositing you on his large bed.

It smells strongly of him, and you have to fight yourself to not breathe in deeply. His sheets feel heavenly against your skin, caressing it like silk. The mattress sinks under you slightly, cocooning your body. It sinks deeper as Miguel crawls on top of you. Your hips are caged by his knees as he kneels, arms holding him up by your head. They come to rest under your head, pulling you up to kiss you again. The two of you sink back into the bed as your tongues clash, and you squeal when Miguel flips you over so you’ve swapped positions. He chuckles against your lips, pulling away and smiling when you pout at him.

“Shhh,” He smiles, hands sliding down to the zipper of your dress. He drags it down slowly, watching as the straps of your dress fall away and slide down your shoulders, “Let me worship you.”

Your thighs tighten around his waist, blinking down at him as he pushes your dress down to reveal your bare breasts. There wasn’t any need for a bra with your dress having built in padding. You gasp when he surges forward, holding you in place with his hands on your waist as he sucks one of your boobs into his mouth. Your hands tangled into his hair, head tilting back with a moan as he licks and teasingly bites down on your nipple. One of his hands slides up to your upper back, pressing so your chest is pushed against his face. He moans around your nipple, hungrily lapping and sucking as he looks up at you. He’s entranced by the way your lips part as you moan and whine, your neck revealed to him as your face faces the ceiling.

He can feel his cock twitch in his pants, distracting himself by giving your other breast attention. His eyes practically roll to the back of his head as you tug on his hair. When he’s satisfied, he parts from your breasts with a final kiss to both of your nipples. They’re hardened and shiny with his saliva, and he’s almost tempted to go back for seconds. But he has other things in mind. You watch him as he lays flat on his back, the hand at your back returning to your waist so his other can reach under your dress. You gasp, hands planting on his chest as he rips your underwear off of you. Your eyes are wide as he brings them up to his nose, squeezing at your waist as he moans at the scent.

He stuffs them into his pocket, both hands now planted on your waist again. He bunches your dress around your waist, looking like a goddess as all your privates are revealed to him. He picks you up, your hands gripping the headboard as he sits you on his face. The noise you let out is close to a scream as his lips instantly attack your clit, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue is warm against your aching bud, your eyes rolling back with another loud moan when his tongue slides against your folds. You want to cry when he pulls you off his face slightly, his chin already sparkly with slick.

“Gods baby, you’re so sensitive. Gabe never eat you out before?” He teases, but he quickly loses the smirk on his face when you whimper out a no. He rolls his eyes, mumbling out pinche imbécil before diving back into your folds.

You can’t help bucking against his mouth, his nose beginning to nudge at the bud between your legs. He groans under you in appreciation, and you feel it throughout your whole body. You’re a whiny mess on top of him, your sounds drowning out the music from downstairs. One of your hands comes to tangle in his hair to help guide your movements, and his hands start rocking your hips to help out. He can feel you clenching against his mouth, your orgasm close. For a second he debates not letting you finish and instead making you come around his cock. But no, he isn’t greedy. He’d let you have all the orgasms you want. You deserve to be deeply satisfied and fucked out. Plus, he needs to make up for all the times his son failed to get you to your peak.

He’s definitely happy with his choice as you fucking scream his name, back arching as you lean against the headboard. Your thighs twitch around his head, your breath heavy as you whine. Your release flows into his mouth like thick honey, and it tastes just as sweet. He can feel himself twitch in his pants again, and he holds you down to prevent you from getting up. He needs to make sure he swallows every last drop you’re giving him. Has to show you how grateful he is that you’re giving him your sweet release. When he finally lets you off, you do so on numb legs. You roll to the side, chest still heaving as he groans.

“Fuck hermosa, taste fucking divine.” Miguel praises, his body hovering over yours again.

You whine up at him, pulling him into a shy kiss that he returns desperately. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you whimper. As he shares your taste with you, his hands finally get rid of the rest of your dress. He pulls away once it’s off, resting his forehead against yours as his hands undo his belt buckle.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that? A fucking vision. And you’re all mine.”

Your body arches into him at his words, hands exploring the expanse of his clothed chest as he gets his pants off. His chest leaves your hands as he sits up again, rapidly undoing the buttons of his button-up and hurriedly taking it off. Both of you are naked, and his eyes get the chance to explore you as you explore him. He’s built in muscle, a little chub at his stomach that has you leaking onto his sheets. His cock hangs heavy in between his legs, unable to hold up its own weight. It makes your mouth water and you almost beg him to put it in your mouth.

You’re distracted from your filthy fantasy when Miguel’s finger lands at the end of your throat and in between your collarbones. He slides it down, goosebumps mapping where he touched. He brings his finger down the valley between your breasts, dragging it to your stomach, and ending its journey at your clit where he taps on it gently. The whole time he holds his breath as if breathing would disturb the perfection in front of him. It makes your body sing, arching into his touch with a small noise that he soaks up.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers into the darkness of the room, leaning back over you.

You can fill his tip rubbing between your thighs, smearing his precum on your skin. You spread your legs wider for him, and you gasp when he grabs them and pushes them up to your chest and over his shoulders. He kisses the side of your knee, eyes peering down at your face as he guides his tip to your entrance. He rubs it up and down slowly, collecting your dripping arousal and nudging at your clit until your body is jolting in sensitivity. When he brings it back to your weeping hole, it slides in with little resistance.

You moan needily as it enters you, and you clench around his tip. It makes Miguel’s mouth drop with a groan, trying to push past your tightness, “You’re so tight, loosen up for me baby.”

You try to relax your walls, but every time he slides further in, your walls clench in pleasure. It makes him chuckle, and he toys with your clit to help your efforts. It works well, and he slides in easily as he rolls your bud in circles.

“Fuckkk, that’s it baby. Taking this cock so well.”

You whine, back arching as he bottoms out. His balls are flush against your skin, and you squirm on his cock as he begins to slide out. You gasp out when he thrusts back in, hitting against your cervix. Your hands reach above you to bury into the plush pillows, mewling as he starts building up a pace. You try to turn your head away, closing your eyes tight as you moan, but Miguel reaches down so you face him and force eye contact. Your eyes are completely dazed from pleasure, lust threatening to spill through your tears. Miguel groans at the sight, his hips beginning to thrust into you faster. Your gummy walls drag against his length, fluttering every now and then as he works you towards another orgasm. It makes his cock twitch inside of you, and he hides his face in your neck and leaves bruising marks. The way he presses into you makes him hit deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you impossibly close to climax. Your hands leave the pillows to rake down Miguel’s back with hiccuped mewls of his name as you feel your stomach burn.

“I know, baby,” Miguel grunts, teeth clenched as his hips start stuttering. “I know, I’m right there too. Let go, I got you.”

With his reassurance and the persuasion of a few more thrusts, your body tenses. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, body arching and twitching as you come. Feeling your walls clench so tightly around him makes Miguel explode soon after, moaning out your name. He works both of you through your orgasms with shallow thrusts that slowly dwindle to a halt. He breathes heavily into your neck, groaning as he slowly pulls out of you with a wet squelch. His face hovers over yours, showering you in chaste kisses that have you letting out breathy giggles.

Once Miguel has caught his breath he gets up, carrying you as he stands off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. He places you down on the sink’s large counter top, your body shocked by the cold marble. He parts from you with a slow kiss to your lips, turning to prepare a bath for you. When the tub fills with steamy water, he picks you up again, stepping in and sitting down with you between his legs. You sigh as the water soothes your aching body. Miguel’s hands begin to massage your body, whispering small praises into your skin and leaving kisses along your neck and shoulders. The coziness of the atmosphere makes you sleepy and you try to stifle a yawn.

Miguel smiles against your skin as he hears it, and he begins to run his fingers through your hair, “Go to sleep, I’ll take care of you.”

And just like that you’re asleep.

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you’re woken up with kisses along your naked shoulder. You smile before you open your eyes, turning around to meet Miguel’s face. He hums when you turn to him, pulling you against him more and kissing your cheek. You chuckle at the affection, kissing the crown of his head as you rake your hands through his hair.

“Morning, hermosa.” He mumbles to you, eyes shining at your presence.

“Good morning, handsome. Want some coffee?” You reply, smiling wider when Miguel nods.

You get out of bed, grabbing Miguel’s button up from last night off the floor. You button it up just enough to cover everything, and you hear Miguel groan from the sight from his place on the bed. You giggle, promising to be quick as you leave his room. When you go downstairs, the place is still trashed from the party. You roll your eyes at the mess, feeling bad for the cleaners and already knowing you’re going to offer them help. Luckily, the kitchen is still functional and you begin to brew Miguel’s coffee. You hear footsteps approaching as you fill a mug, turning to see Gabe.

He’s rubbing his eyes when he enters, the tell-tale expression of a hangover on his face. He pauses when he sees you, squinting as the sunlight pours from the kitchen window.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks gruffly, eyes falling to the mug of coffee in your hands. You don’t like coffee, he only knows because you complained about it all the time when he got you one.

You roll your eyes at his tone, setting the spoon down on the sink. You grab the mug and begin walking over to Gabe. For a moment, he thinks the coffee is for him and he begins to reach out for it. But he pauses as your hand cups his cheek mockingly and you coo at him like he's simply a toddler with an attitude.

“Now, now, Gabe. That isn't how you should treat your step-mom, is it?”

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heerinnie · 9 days

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Imagine having threesome with heehoon, like they both would tease you, and make you beg for their dicks. Tie you on the bed and fill your ass and cunt at the same time. Or cover your eyes with a blindfold and than fuck you one by one and ask you who is it? And when you tell them the wrong answer, they would go extra rough on you and make your body go numb and I can imagine them cursing alot while fucking you senselessly. Like "yeah, you like that slut. You like being railed by two dicks at the same time" "wrong answer whore, now get your ass up and be ready for the punishment"

RAH 🦅DONT EVEN because I love your brain rn.

Ngl i see Hoon and Hee as two different people in bed. Hoon seems like the kind of individual who would push you to your limits and make you feel inferior, 100% hard mean dom that punishes you even when you happen to laugh at a joke told by a guy other than him or Hee and then asking you if his joke really was funny or if you wanted to add a groupie to your roster. His behaviour could be seen as toxic in some situations but after fucking you dumb know he didn't mean a single word he said. Outside of the bedroom he really is an amazing and compassionate boyfie completely contrasting his wild and animalistic side in bed.

On the other hand, Hee comes across as someone who’s gentle with you, a soft dom if I do say so myself. He’d whisper gentle words of praise in your ear, cooing at you for taking him so well and for all the ways you'd let him have your body and mind. Now this might come out of nowhere but I must spread my heesub agenda. This man is such a switch, he’d be a soft dom in bed but the biggest brat known to man if you take control. And absolute menace because nothing beats the way your irritated brow twitched when he spoke back and he just lived when you took it out on him.

Now all of that mixed in with being in a poly relationship with these two? I don't know about you but I’m sold.

They would take turns using you one by one and revel in it. The hard thrusts of Hoon using you like a fleshlight, bruising your hips with his grip along with Hee whispering sweet nothings and telling you about how much of a good girl you are for taking him while sucking and playing with your tit would send you into overdrive, turning your mind into nothing but mush.

On most occasions things would happen the usual way as expected, the opposite parallels of your two boyfriends domming would never bore you so you couldn't complain much. However, there were some days when Heeseung's behaviour and demeanour would take a complete U-turn, surprising both you and Hoon, wondering where your sweet man went. He would align himself with Hoon's attitude, which was quite different from his usual self and he would adopt an entirely different attitude to how he treats you during sex. Same goes with hoon, there ware days where he sees your struggling and would take hours taking care of you whether it’d be eating you out until you couldn’t remember the issue or making love to you telling you how beautiful you’d look carrying his and seungie’s babies.

Back to sub hee, god when you three fuck but hee subs it’s like something straight out of porn. Moaning and whining as you play with his cock and balls teasing and edging him all whilst sunghoon fucks you in doggy like an animal in heat. Slurring degradation and praise towards you both. I’m convulsing.

I hope what you gathered from this is that their duality would be insane, I'm insane, i need them NOW.

#heeseung smut #heeseung drabbles #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon smut #sunghoon drabbles #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #from rinnie 💟

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cryypt1d · 9 months

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i’m jumping on the “nandor will turn guillermo in a few years once he feels ready” train for THREE reasons.

1. i cannot fathom a world where they are not together and happy forever and ever

2. if guillermo is turned but refuses to kill humans, nandor bringing him cups of blood or whatever would parallel guillermo’s duty of bringing food to the vampires for so many years

3. it would be gay and fun and they could have a vampire wedding

this is not really a theory more just what i want to happen. i am not normal about them or about this show

#what we do in the shadows #wwdits #nandermo

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snixkers · 3 months

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Parallel Parked

Pairing: Spencer Reid × Wife!Reader

Fluff

For: @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Prompt!

Summary: You two take your daughter to school for the first time, but you can’t make yourselves leave the parking lot.

Content Warnings: Leaving kids at school, worries of children growing up, pure fluff

Author's Note: Absolutely love this, I'm a full believer in girl-dad Spencer!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN

The bag was packed, the lunch was made, and your daughter was dressed and eager for her first day of school. Your husband had instilled in her a love of learning from an early age, attempting to teach her quadratic equations before she learned to walk. Even though she didn’t pick up on everything he was saying, the way she reached for his tie was cute enough for the both of you.

But that was the past. Now she was smiling from ear to ear as she ate her chocolate chip pancakes and watched the two of you get ready. Packing was always on Spencer due to his eidetic memory, but you still wanted to double-check that she had everything and sneakily add your own touches.

The two of you moved around with an unspoken sadness in the air, heavy with the knowledge that your daughter was no longer so little. Although she would soon be going off to her first day of kindergarten, you tried to keep yourself excited for her. After all, this was a great experience that could open up a gateway of learning for her.

She velcroed her shoes and stood up, straightening out her shirt and adjusting the large backpack she certainly wouldn’t need.

“I’m ready to go!”

Her cheerful voice cut through the dull atmosphere, and you both grabbed your keys and got ready to go. When you slipped into the car, she sat in her seat next to the backpack and turned on one of your husband’s favorite classical stations.

She looked excited, and you couldn’t blame her. That childlike wonder was one of your favorite parts about her. The drive was unusually quick. You’d gone this route several times before, and you swore it took twice the time.

She grinned even wider as she saw the school in the distance, kicking her little legs as if she couldn’t wait. As soon as the car was parked, she swung the door open with a burst of energy.

Spencer had to hurry to catch up to her as she ran towards the front doors. You grabbed her backpack and led her inside the winding halls, looking for the room number that her school sent out. She pointed it out for you, smiling proudly at her skills.

The two of you smiled at each other as she stood outside the classroom, waving at her teacher and making sure she had everything she needed. You both took turns hugging her, saying your ‘I love you’s and ‘goodbye’s. When she headed inside and took a seat at the table, you turned around and squeezed each other’s hands reassuringly as you headed back towards the car.

After unlocking the doors and taking your seats again, he just sat there in silence. You were quiet too, holding back bittersweet tears at the knowledge that she didn’t need you two anymore. He sniffled softly as well, staring at the doors of the school as the air thickened. You just sat together, sharing your sadness and pride in your daughter.

He took a deep breath, opening his mouth and voicing his concerns.

“What if she needs something and the school calls? We should wait here just in case.”

You nodded in agreement, wiping your tears and following his gaze to the front doors.

“She gets out of school at 11. It’s easier to wait a few hours. We can take her out for ice cream to celebrate.”

He squeezed your hand as you two relaxed, waiting for your daughter to return from her first day of school.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fanfic #spencer reid #reqs open #spencer reid x reader #mentioningmargins #dad!spencer reid #tooth rotting fluff

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missroller15 · 2 years

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also been writing notes and reactions so expect a ton of that to be released soon, I have so much to rant on and discuss, this is gonna be fun 😅

#gilmore girls #gg s6 #specifically regarding Logan and Christopher at the moment #I’ve caught a few details and parallels I’m so ready to dive into #ofc also discussing this jess episode too bc I love talking abt him <3333

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