⋆. 𐙚 ˚ moni's introduction!
hi! i'm maei or moni, i'm an aries. i absolutely love writing stories and reading—it's one of my biggest passions. i'm a fangirl at heart, and i'm kinda new here, so bear with me! i'm a big fan of tom hiddleston, matthew gray gubler, gabriel macht (or harvey specter), and sabrina carpenter!
(will make a masterlist once i have the time!)
fluff = ☼ | angst = ☂ | ♨ = smut | ❄ = sexual tension
⌗ loki laufeyson
☂ for the children ; In a cold, distant marriage of duty, you long for connection, but Loki remains emotionally absent. When you ask why he stays, his answer—"For the children"—shatters the last of your hope.
↪ ☂☼ for all of us ; After a brutal attack against the royal family, you get hit in the crossfire and Loki realizes what he's been missing all along.
❄ burn ; Loki grows jealous when a visiting prince from Alfheim flirts with you at a grand Asgardian feast.
☼ blushes and bruises ; Loki never cared for Midgardian traditions—least of all Valentine’s Day. But when the God of Mischief finds himself enamored with the Avengers' beloved nurse, he begins to question everything he thought he knew about affection.
☼ blurb ; Loki being with you and his kids!
⌗ harvey specter
☼ blurb ; Harvey just needing you.
⌗ spencer reid
☂☼ almost doesn't count ; Spencer Reid has been crushing on you ever since you joined the BAU, and Valentine’s Day feels like the perfect time to finally ask you out.
☼ pillow kingdom ; Dr. Spencer Reid may have three PhDs and an IQ of 187, but when it comes to battling his two tiny, chaos-loving children in an all-out Pillow Kingdom war, he never stood a chance.
⌗ other characters...
❄♨☂☼ into the hollow (james conrad)(series); You were supposed to be on a beach in Hawaii, drink in hand, finally taking the vacation you had waited months for. Instead, you're standing on Pier 45, watching as a classified expedition unfolds before your eyes, all because Bill Randa decided to drag you into one last mission.
reminder! this is my first time writing on tumblr, and if you don't like my writing, that's fine! if you're here for smut, please know that i'm not really comfortable doing that just yet—still working on it! but nevertheless, bear with me. thank you!
yes, the idea of reader getting used as a fleshlight is fantastic, but what about reader using him as a dildo? not worried about his pleasure. you're only fucking him because he's a loser with a huge cock.
you're stuffing your panties (lacy, soaked through, reeking of your perfect pussy) into his face in a failed attempt to stifle his loud, unabashed moans. he definitely hasn't been fucked before, if so, not like this. due to his inexperience, he's probably came way too many times already inside you, and so you're bouncing on his fat, slimy cock with cum sloshing inside you and leaking with every bounce onto his pelvis.
"oh fuck- shut up, will you? i'm t-trying... mmnh... to focus," you manage out. trying to sound stern is basically an impossibility when you've got his cock smushed inside you to the hilt.
his hands are fisted in the sheets, knuckles white, thighs trembling beneath you as you sink down on him and then rock your hips back and forth while completely stuffed. this method doesn't give him as much pleasure as it does for you, but you don't care. this isn't for his pleasure, or your connection. all you care about is how deep he hits when you sink all the way, how your cunt's clenching so tight he can't stop shaking.
"f-fuck-!" he whines again pathetically through the lace in his mouth, drool soaking the crotch of your panties where they're pressed over his mouth and nose. his eyes are wide, glassy, fixed on the place where you meet him. it's humiliating how desperate he looks.
"you like getting used, huh?" you pant, beginning to bounce again so the overstimulation hits once more. you let his big, drooling cock drag and catch with each rough bounce. it makes that slick, wet sound every time you move.
"ah- ye-yeah, like it soooo much," he moans so loud it vibrates through your soaked panties, tries to say something, but you shove your panties harder into his face so you don't hear what shit he has to say. his cock pulses again and you can feel more warmth spill out of you, overflowing from the tip, dripping down to his balls in glooping heaps. "such a -shit- big fucking cock wasted on a nobody like ngh! you. y-you don't deserve it."
your voice cracks halfway through but you don't stop or pretend this is anything but using him like he's just a toy that happens to twitch and moan and cum without your permission. your hands are braced on his chest for balance, his skin hot and slick under your palms from how hard he's sweating, poor thing.
you push the underwear just enough to see his eyes, which are teary and rolled back. his eyes clamp shut when you drop down especially hard, and his whole body jerks like he's seizing. his stomach tightens under your hands but the second you grind down again deep, slow and mean, he lets out a strangled sob into your panties, soaked through with spit and the sharp scent of your cunt.
"mmnh, fuck, look at you," you breathe out, "you're crying, sweetheart. is it too much?" you coo mockingly, dragging your hips up until just his swollen tip is nestled at the edge of your cunt, nearly pulling out. the area where his cockhead enters you is smeared in cum and slick. he scrabbles at your arms, needing to be back inside you. then, without warning, you slam back down, clamping hard on him.
he screams behind the fabric. legs kicking. you begin grinding down hard as punishment until you feel another twitch inside you, his cock thickening, spurting another weak, creamy load. his fifth? sixth? doesn't matter.
see more in my multifandom masterlist
see more in my main masterlist
reblog and leave a comment to keep the fic alive if you enjoyed it!
I can't stress enough how badly I don't want to post this. I've been in tears all morning.
But it’s gone too far. It went too far a long time ago and frankly, I should have thrown in the towel eight months ago when this all started, but I’m officially done. I’ve stuck out months of cruelty, of stalking and harassment, of messages wishing for my death. Two weeks ago it escalated when anons began taunting my friends with mine and my fiancé’s personal information, and they’ve since shared that information, as well as photos, with the confessions blog. It’s not about my comfort anymore and sticking out the cruelty I’ve been enduring for months on end in hopes that _maybe_ things will get better. It is about our safety, which has been compromised, and it’s about my loved ones who never had any part of this blog and my writing, who do not deserve to be dragged into this. And I don’t deserve it either. I thought that by formally leaving behind the Pedro/Joel/tlou fandom the harassment would lessen, but it hasn’t. It’s clear that I cannot continue here.
While it is my choice to leave this blog behind, please understand that this is not something I’m doing willingly or happily. In many ways, I feel like this is being taken from me, and I am heartbroken that something that once brought me so much joy (and still does, sometimes) has been twisted and distorted into something so awful and insidious. I guess this is just the unfortunate consequence of what this place has become, the witch hunts the internet encourages. The confessions blog is a fantastic example of what it looks like to give into the ugliest parts of yourself and to make it the problem of everyone else. They burnt a fandom to the ground to the point that there's nothing left, and it still isn't enough for them because they are that fucking empty inside. What's laughable is that they think they're helping, right? I get called a woman who only thinks with her cunt and a woman who is just as dangerous as an abusive man for the fiction I write, but sure - take lessons in feminism from the blog that has spent months on end terrorizing a fandom full of women and queer folks. I'm rambling and this isn't new or insightful but let me just say this - if you contribute(d) to this blog and the vicious harassment of myself and other people, I hope peace never fucking finds you. I hope the guilt of what you've done to real fucking people, mind you, hits you like a fucking train and you have to live with the knowledge of the kind of person you are for the rest of your life. You've done to me and others things I would never do to another human being, ever.
I used to have hope that things would get better, but that was a long time ago. I don't know where to begin fixing what has been irreparably damaged, and I think tried for months to hold onto the shreds that I had left...I just can't anymore. I’ll still be on ao3 writing and posting. Over the next few days I’ll be sifting through this blog and migrating all of my writing over there. I really hope you follow me over there ♡
Thank you to everyone who’s made this special. There’s more of you than I can count and name ❤️ I hope to come back to this one day if things ever get better, but I can't count on that so I am kissing blog strang3lov3 goodbye. Keep being good to each other, kindness is never a waste.
I'm sorry this is happening. I don't like it either.
pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!reader
w.c.: 2k
a/n: i shouldve made him meaner sorry to all my freaks
summary: You've been teasing Aaron all day. He's not having it.
c.w.: 18+ MDNI, mild dubcon sorry, dom/sub dynamics, semi-public sex, edging, v fingering, brat taming yay, slight overstimulation, some humiliation yay, mention of safeword but not used
[kinktober 2025 masterlist]
read below or on ao3 here <3
“This is what you asked for, isn’t it?”
You can barely answer, not sure if you even have the willpower to, as the muffled sounds of the gala happening outside bleed through the door. The cold restroom tile against your back was a slight reprieve against your heated skin, battling the sweat threatening to form at your hairline as you bite at your lip.
The rest of the team were out in the ballroom waiting for the two of you, and you didn’t miss the waggly eyebrow Morgan gave you when Aaron tugged you out of your seat with a hand wrapped around your wrist. You shot him a sheepish grin, something playful, as if you weren’t secretly thinking of just how you were going to get out of this.
Your brain comes up spectacularly empty as soon as Aaron had forced you into the restroom, flipped the lock, and spun you with a large hand already crawling up the slit of your dress.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You mentally curse yourself at the way your voice wobbles, breath hitching when his hand tiptoes across the expanse of your thigh to toy with the lace of your panties, dangerously close to where you’re starting to ache for him.
Your legs spread instinctively despite the way your eyes keep darting to the bathroom door, the doorknob jiggling.
“No?” His breath fans hotly over your cheekbone, and you detect the citrusy hint of whiskey. “You call what you’ve been doing all day nothing?”
The pads of his fingers skim over your clothed pussy, so light you probably wouldn’t have felt it if all your nerve endings weren’t already on fire. When he brushes against your throbbing clit, your entire body jerks.
Aaron’s caged you in with his broad frame, the sharp scent of his cologne nearly making you dizzy, and your jaw drops open in a loud surprised moan when he greedily pulls your panties aside to thrust one thick finger inside of where you’re already dripping for him.
“Quiet,” he hisses, not even bothering to wait to let you adjust before he’s fucking you roughly, wide palm slapping against your clit. “You don’t want them to hear, do you?”
You immediately slap a hand over your mouth, another harsh moan bubbling out of your throat when he’s curling his finger inside of you, hitting that spot inside of your cunt that has your hips jolting against his wrist.
He immediately stops, unfurling his finger, and when you look up at him to give him what you know will be a weak glare, he’s already looking at you. Waiting for an answer.
Hand still covering your mouth, you shake your head. No, you don’t want anyone to hear you. No, you don’t want him to stop, please.
The corner of his mouth twitches, a small flash of affection in his eyes, before he’s swiftly sliding another finger in your needy cunt. He crowds himself into you, pressing you up harder against the tiled wall with the firm line of his body, the shape of his erection tenting in his pressed slacks and against your hip.
He’s relentless, fucking his fingers inside of you hard and fast, and your eyes roll back into your skull of your own accord. The lewd noises of your pussy swallowing him fills the restroom, bouncing around in your own head, and you seriously wonder how no one can hear the two of you from outside.
You distantly hear a lull in the announcer’s voice, a loud round of applause, and then the scraping of chairs and several pairs of heels clicking through the hallway and getting concerningly closer.
“Aaron…,” you gasp around another stifled moan, hips bucking into his hand. “Stop, I’m going to—"
He leans in until his mouth brushes against the shell of your ear, his broad shoulder so close to your face you could almost lean in and bite him. “You know what to say if you really want me to stop.”
You’ve only ever had to use your safeword once—not even because you were uncomfortable but rather the opposite, so overstimulated and worn out that you weren’t sure you could even breathe besides being able to mumble the word red.
And Aaron had immediately stopped, pulling out of your sore cunt and letting his still hard cock bob and slap up against his stomach, tossing the bright pink vibrator aside. He looked at you like you had been shot; brows pinched in concern and hands gently cradling your face as if scared to touch you and not as if you were silently writing your thank you note to Penelope for her extremely thoughtful gift.
So it wasn’t as if you were nervous about telling Aaron when you were uncomfortable.
You actually just weren’t sure if you really wanted him to stop.
You’re wretched away from your thoughts by your impending orgasm building at the base of your spine. You’re sure he can feel the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, the desperate gasps leaking from your mouth.
And then he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you groaning in frustration as he tears your orgasm away from you when it was right at the tip of your fingers.
“You know better than that,” is all he says, cutting your curses off, before sliding his fingers back inside of you.
They go in easily with how stretched open you were, your wetness filthily coating his fingers and the insides of your thighs. He doesn’t waste another second as he steadily fucks you again, fingers immediately curling into you as he shoves his knee against your thigh to spread you open further. You want to complain, yell at him maybe, but Aaron’s playing with you in a way that has you secretly giddy with excitement.
“God, you’re fucking annoying.” You know your words miss with the way you have to pant them out, even moreso when you grab onto the damp hair at Aaron’s nape to pull him closer. “I’m serious, Aaron, stop.”
He’s smug when you press his forehead against yours, eyes crinkling at the corners and his thumb rudely brushing against your swollen clit. “You’re not helping yourself, sweetheart.”
The patronizing tone doesn’t help you either as you’re thrown to that edge again, your fingers tightening against Aaron’s scalp. Blood rushes through your ears, deafening the hum of the crowd outside the room, and you know you’re probably talking too loudly when you say “Aaron, stop, I’m—”
He jerks his fingers away again and for a split second, you swear you thought you were about to strangle him, hundreds of FBI agents outside be damned.
He must see it written all over your face and, that freak, it seems to spur him on even further as he begins to rub slow circles around your throbbing clit. Your entire body jolts with the sensation, your legs trembling so hard that Aaron has to use his free hand on your hip to keep you standing. “That was the last one, I promise.”
“Wow.” Your voice catches in your throat, chest heaving as Aaron appears spectacularly unaffected. “So considerate of you.”
His pace quickens, the pads of his fingers seamlessly rubbing over you in that precise way only he manages to do. “Keep it up with that mouth of yours and I won’t let you come.”
You bite your next words back, knowing that Aaron is always true to his word. You’re not sure if you even have that willpower to annoy him anymore, your incessant need to bother him steadily wilting away with each swipe of his thumb over your puffy clit.
It doesn’t take that long to be right there again, the heat settling in the pit of your stomach never fully going away. Your entire body feels like it was on fire, sweat lightly coating your skin, and you just knew your hair that took your nearly half an hour to perfect was probably a rat’s nest by now.
But you didn’t care anymore.
“Fuck, fine, hurry up,” you gasp, nails digging into the damp skin above his collar.
“I thought you wanted me to stop?”
He’s mocking you, taunting you, even as three of his thick fucking fingers sink back into your aching cunt. You tense at the immediate stretch, unsure if you wanted to jerk your hips towards him or away, but Aaron makes that decision for you as his hand on your hip that was keeping you standing squeezes before pushing you harder against the restroom wall.
You know what he means by it—you can take it.
Two of his fingers were usually enough, but three has you wincing, having to take a deep breath to make yourself relax.
The discomfort passes quickly, leaving behind nothing but heat rushing through your veins as you arch your back off the cool tile. You felt unbelievably full, like if you could close your eyes and concentrate hard enough, you could almost pretend Aaron was mercilessly fucking you with his fat cock instead.
“Aaron,” you warn, and you think he doesn’t hear you because he doesn’t respond, silent besides the devastating sound of his fingers fucking you so deep you knew you were going to feel it tomorrow. “Fuck, Aaron—”
“Look at me.” The low rasp of his voice gives him away, and when you meet his gaze, you’re only slightly pleased to see his eyes half-lidded and a pretty flush rising up his face. “Ask nicely.”
Your face heats up, heart thudding erratically in your chest, and when you hear another muffled thundering of applause, your resolve breaks.
“Please,” you beg, throat dry as you desperately clench down on Aaron’s fingers to stave off your orgasm. “Can I come, please?”
You know Aaron’s patience was wearing just as thin—his hard cock straining uncomfortably against his slacks, his back aching from hovering over you, and the pads of his fingers pruned as if he was in the shower for over an hour and not because of how soaked you were. Although he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the night bringing you to the edge over and over again, there technically was an event that he was specifically invited for that he was missing.
“Okay,” he mutters after a pregnant pause, warm breath fanning over your cheeks. “Okay honey, let me feel you.”
Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, that tension in your stomach snapping even before the words have fully left his mouth. You think you almost taste blood when you have to bite down on your bottom lip to hold back the moan that spills out of you, instead something only slightly pathetic leaks past your lips as your pussy clenches around those perfectly thick fingers.
Aaron’s hand comes around to cradle the back of your head, shielding you from the hard tile as your back bows, your thighs squeezing and trapping his wrist in between your legs as heat crashes over you.
You’re trembling when you come back to yourself, chest heaving, and when you blink the sweat out of your eyes, Aaron’s already staring back at you.
Your shoulder blades ache from how long you’ve been pressed up against the wall, your expensive dress wrinkled and disheveled, and you’re not sure if you want to push him away or beg him to fuck you when the doorknob jiggles again.
“Jesus, can whoever’s in there finish fucking already? I need to pee!”
Heat licks across your cheeks, embarrassment and something akin to shame slithering down your spine. Everyone probably heard the two of you, heard you moaning like a whore while you were getting fingered in the bathroom and begging your boyfriend to let you come.
It only makes you want him to fuck you even more.
As if he can read your mind, or able to easily decipher the glassy look in your eyes, he pulls at your dress bunched around your waist until it settles back to 30 minutes ago. His fingers are drenched in your slick, glistening underneath the dim fluorescent lights, and you watch with bated breath as he lifts his hand up to his face.
He stares at you when he easily slips his own fingers in his mouth. Your throat goes dry when he makes a low noise at the first taste of you. You’re able to see how his tongue leisurely laves in between his fingers, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, before popping them out of his mouth.
You’re about to say fuck it and drop to your knees until he’s coming down your throat when Aaron turns around to wash his hands at the sink.
He catches your shoulders deflating in the mirror and rolls his eyes, as if his cock still wasn’t hard and visible through his slacks. “You can wait until we get home.”
That fucking patronizing tone again has you halfway between wanting to punch him and wanting to shove him against the sink to have your way with him.
But you hear a crowd forming outside the door, and if this gala full of policemen and federal agents wasn’t the perfect place to catch an indecency charge, you’re not sure what was.
“Fine,” you say, before stepping closer towards the mirror to try and save your hair. “But you’re the one who has to deal with everyone when we get back to the table. You know they don’t take me seriously.”
You try your best to ignore the formidable line outside the restroom when the two of you walk out hand in hand, not even bothering to pretend like you weren’t having sex at a public and very expensive event.
Aaron leans in to press a kiss to the side of your forehead, distracting you from the multiple glares of the women on the brink of pissing themselves. “Deal.”
How do you sleep will never be as mean as too many people. Paul’s ass is straight up just saying “you’re a sleep deprived conniving stupid cokewhore and I have a hot beautiful sexy wife. You’re an annoying hypocrite and a sellout. My beautiful lovely sexy wife is waiting for me. It’s so over for you, you’re a lame loser who’s a one hit wonder. And oh your eating disorder too” and its even worse when you remember that paul wrote too many people on his own while john had people pitching in lines etc for how do you sleep
