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#despite him being a very sad and handsome man
joelscurls · 6 months
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I wanna show you off
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 4.1k
summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!
If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.
Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.
It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.
The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.
You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.
You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.
You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.
Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.
It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.
They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.
Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.
One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 
He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.
“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.
“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.
“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”
“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”
You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”
Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.
Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!
“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”
“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.
“You know I love you, right?” 
You sniff again. Nod. 
“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”
“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 
Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 
You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.
You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.
You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 
“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”
He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 
“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 
And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.
You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.
So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.
“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.
“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.
“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 
Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.
“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.
He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 
Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 
“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”
His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.
Yours, yours, yours. 
And nobody else’s.
“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 
“Got it.”
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It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 
“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 
“Uh-”
“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”
“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 
But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.
You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.
“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 
Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.
“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”
“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 
Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 
You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 
Sheila pays you no attention.
“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”
Your vision blurs scarlet. 
Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“
“Sheila,” she reminds him. 
“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”
You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.
And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 
Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.
“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.
You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 
“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 
You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 
With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 
Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 
And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.
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Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.
He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 
So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.
“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”
“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 
Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 
Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 
You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?
“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”
You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 
He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”
His belt falls to the floor with a clang.
He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.
It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.
“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.
“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.
“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 
His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 
“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.
“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 
Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 
Sheila is home. 
Perfect.
It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 
You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 
“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 
“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 
“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 
Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 
“You sure?” 
It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 
But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 
You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.
You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 
Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 
The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 
He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 
“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 
He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 
You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.
You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”
“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.
His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 
“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.
“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”
“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”
It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.
When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.
The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 
“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 
“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”
He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.
“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”
A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 
Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?
Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 
“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”
Oh my word!
Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 
The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 
If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.
“Joel, fuck-”
“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”
This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.
His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 
Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 
He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 
A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.
Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!
And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 
“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 
“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 
“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.
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end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3
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sundrop-writes · 3 months
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Loverboy
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Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader
Summary:
You try your best to make Spencer’s first time a good one. Spencer can’t hold himself back, and makes it an incredibly memorable night for the both of you.
Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP.
Word Count: 3,100
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link
THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.
Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.
Warnings: mainly smut/pwp;generally under-negotiated kink; mentions of the social constructs around virginity and the social pressures that men feel based around sex; this is Spencer’s first time having sex and the reader is a lot more experienced; this is not an explicit or pre-planed dom/sub relationship, but there is dom/sub undertones to their interactions; Spencer is more submissive (and bratty/defiant - before becoming compliant) and the reader is more dominant/leading; the reader calls Spencer ‘baby’ and 'brat’; she reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; penetrative sex/penis in vagina sex; mentions of fingering (does not take place during the fic); “just the tip”; unprotected sex - the reader and Spencer agreed to use a condom beforehand but Spencer pushes in without one (the reader secretly loves it, but doesn’t want to tell Spencer because she doesn’t want to feed into his entitled brat attitude and this could be considered dubious consent because he broke her consent regarding using contraception); spanking - the reader spanks Spencer (very mild pain kink); something that could be considered 'premature ejaculation’ (but imo it’s never premature, it’s right on time); creampie kink - they both enjoy Spencer cumming inside of her; mentions of Spencer crying (from overwhelming sensations, not sadness or humiliation); overstimulation (toward Spencer); Spencer fucking into his own cum; I believe that is everything.
A/N: Originally, I had this idea when I was thinking about Lessons For A Genius, but I realized that it didn’t quite fit the tone of that fic, so I decided to write it separately. I hope all you Subby Spencer lovers enjoy it! (Also can you tell that 'just the tip’ is my new fav trope? lmao)
...
“You ready, baby?” You cooed, gently running your hands through Spencer’s hair.
You tried to keep that same soothing, sweet voice that you had been using with him all night, trying your best to keep his nerves at bay. You knew that this was an uneasy time for him - between the social pressure of being a man who had never had sex with a woman before and wanting to ‘impress’ you and his general shyness around other people. You just wanted him to be comfortable and at ease so that he could enjoy himself. Which, of course, was generally the point of having sex. 
When Spencer had asked you to take his virginity, you felt incredibly honored. He was handsome, and despite him being ‘socially awkward’, he was charming. He had his own unique way of flirting, and he did have his choice of beautiful women that he could have fucked instead of you. There had been plenty of gorgeous women from his past, so you were surprised that he was even still a virgin in the first place. 
But when he had been explaining it to you, he had mentioned that the ‘social awkwardness’ had played a big role. The nerves. He had expected that one night, he would simply kiss a woman that he was on a date with, and things would just naturally ‘go from there’. But it never happened like that. He never had that movie romance moment where it fell into place. So instead, he had asked you. 
He told you that he found you intensely attractive, and - the part he hadn’t told you - he had been fantasizing about this for a while. He found everything about you utterly perfect. From the way your clothes hugged your curves to the way you looked dangerous suspects in the eyes and screamed at them without flinching. 
(And stowed away as a deep, dark secret, he had imagined himself in that position many times - handcuffed to an interrogation table, screamed at by you until he was begging for mercy.) (But again, that wasn’t information he was going to just volunteer to give up willingly.) 
So when Spencer laid it all out for you, fidgeting nervously and explaining that he finally wanted to know what sex felt like - you couldn’t deny him. He was too sweet, and too pretty, of course you couldn’t deny him. 
Even though it was something the two of you planned, and you would have simply invited him over to your place for the night, he insisted upon a date night out - taking you to a lavish restaurant first. He said that he wanted to act like a gentleman before taking you to bed. And it was a lovely evening, so there were no complaints on your part. 
You had taken him back to your place, and you had done your best to make him comfortable through the kissing, the groping, and showing him how to ‘satisfy’ you (again, upon his gentlemanly insistence). You were plenty turned on just by being with him, but you quickly found out that he was a swift learner with more than just books and very good with his fingers. 
Now, it was time for the ‘main event’ - at least, the part that would make him feel less much like a virgin, marking that big milestone for him. 
To give him control and make him feel more comfortable, you were on your back with your head on the pillows and he was sitting on his knees between your spread thighs. He had his body pressed pretty much flush against your naked one, savoring the feeling of your warmth. He was almost completely naked himself - save for his very Reid white briefs, barely containing his seemingly very long, hard cock. You hadn’t gotten a good look at it yet - just the outline of it through his underwear, and even tented, it seemed very impressive. 
You really wondered how no one else had snatched him up as a partner yet. 
He was hiding his face in your neck out of shyness. His nervous streak was oddly sweet, but it was something you had been trying to coax out of him all night. Even if you found it entirely adorable and endearing. 
“‘m ready.” He hummed into the skin of your neck. 
This sent pleasant vibrations through you, making you moan lightly as well. You rubbed your hands across the broad of his back, continuing to soothe him, trying to get his stiff muscles to relax. 
“Okay, baby.” You told him. “I’m gonna take these off now, is that okay?” You posed, reaching down to the waistband of his underwear. 
He nodded into your neck, but you weren’t entirely satisfied with that. 
“Please use your words.” You told him. 
It was only after the sentence left your mouth that you realized how ‘scolding’ it sounded. How condescending. 
Oddly enough, it was that tone of voice that made Spencer’s cock jolt, and made him so buttery and compliant in seconds. 
“You - you can take them off.” He muttered quietly. 
“Good.” You praised him, your voice short and firm. 
You felt yourself very specifically holding back from saying ‘good boy’ in response. 
You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and got them down over his ass. The material did get slightly hooked up in the length of his cock, and you tried to take a peek between your two bodies to get a good look at his now exposed dick. But you couldn’t see around him with the way he had his face tucked into your neck. Spencer untangled himself and clumsily got the underwear down over his knees and eventually kicked them off. 
He moaned when he jostled slightly and felt his cock nudge up against the wet heat of your pussy. You let out a hot breath at the feeling, tightly locking your hips in order to keep yourself from bucking forward and rubbing yourself across his cock. You didn’t want to overwhelm him with new sensations. And you didn’t need to tempt yourself with the idea of pushing him over onto his back, shoving his cock inside of you and riding him raw like he was nothing more than a toy for your pleasure. 
This was supposed to be about making his first time good - not about chasing your own selfish desires. 
Feeling curiosity flood him, Spencer finally pulled away from his safe haven tucked beside your head to prop himself up and get a better look. He put a hand on each side of your shoulders, looking down the length of your body to stare at the impressive heat nuzzling up against his cock between your thighs. 
He had become well acquainted with your pussy when he had fingered you, and he already knew what a gorgeous, warm, wet thing it was. But seeing your throbbing wetness right up against his cock, getting to see that natural gloss so carelessly slicking him up - it made him truly realize the wicked reality that he was going to slide his cock into that wet heat. 
He was going to fuck you. 
It was a thought that made his head spin, quite literally made him dizzy with pleasure. He felt temptation so ripe in his veins as he got up on his knees a bit more and the bright pink head of his cock naturally found your entrance, naturally kissing right up against it. He let out a moan as that heat fanned out over his cock, begging to swallow him up. He wanted to be swallowed up by you, wanted to be consumed whole. He bit his lip, knowing it would be wrong to do it without- 
“Hold on, baby, we need a condom.” You told him, trying your best to keep a firm, steady voice as you were overwhelmed with sharp jolts of pleasure.
Feeling the thickness of his cock against you - feeling him right there - it was almost too much for you. You were so tempted to roll your hips up and simply take him inside of you. You were so tempted to have him fuck you raw. 
But it was not what the two of you had agreed upon beforehand. You had to be the logical one - you had to enforce the rules. 
While you reached off to the side, to the box of condoms you had waiting on the nightstand, Spencer continued to stare at your glistening cunt with pure concentration knit over his features. 
He was biting his lip with a near bruising hard quality, his brows knit so tight that he likely could have held a quarter between them. All of it was just so tempting. Feeling the heat coming off you; so different from his hand, so different from humping into his bed desperately at night, so lively, so perfect. The feeling of your perfect wetness coating the tip of his cock. 
Something in his mind was screaming at him:
Just the tip. Just the tip. 
He could press the tip of his cock into you without a condom, just for a moment, and it would be fine. He would know what your pussy felt like on his cock without a condom. And then he would pull it out again and put the condom on and everything would be fine. 
Technically, he wasn’t breaking any rules. 
He heard the foil wrapper crinkling as you tore it apart with your teeth and his need grew even more urgent under his skin. 
Before he even fully made the decision, his hips were surging forward, and he was pushing his cock into you. He let out a throaty whimper as he felt more of that perfect heat and wetness enveloping his cock. He couldn’t have stopped at the tip if he wanted to - he likely couldn’t have stopped the movement of his hips even if someone had a gun to his head. 
He kept pushing more and more of his length inside of you with a heaving, broken groan as he fully sheathed his cock inside of you for the first time. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he felt your raw, wet cunt around him - no barriers, no asides. Just the perfect, unadulterated you. 
“Oh god.” Spencer moaned, bowing his head to rest in your neck again as he began to pant furiously. He was trying to keep himself from fucking into you like an animal mindlessly, just chasing his release. He was trying to simply enjoy the hot, wet, tight vice as it pulsed around his hard cock. 
“Spencer!” You scolded him harshly once again. “What the fuck?!” 
Your pussy throbbed with the fullness, only now truly feeling how big he was, and fuck - he was big. He was stretching your pussy out so good, making you clench around him desperately, unconsciously trying to memorize every single ridge and vein that you could feel. Because of course, without a condom, you could feel every single detail of him, including the underside of his cockhead bumping up against one of those incredible spots inside of you that was almost never touched by any other man. 
As much as you love it, this was bad. You had agreed to use a condom. 
You dropped the condom beside your head out of shock. This had been the last thing you had ever expected him to do. Spencer: someone who had been so timid all night. Someone who had asked permission to touch your breasts just a few hours ago. That very same someone had just pushed into you without a condom, without even asking permission. 
He had somehow morphed into a greedy brat in the span of a few minutes. And as much as that turned you on, you couldn’t encourage that kind of behavior in him, because it would turn him into an entitled monster. Every single instinct inside of you told you that you had to punish him for this, rather than spoiling him. 
He had to learn how to behave. 
“Spencer, you-!” You continued to use that sharp scolding voice, and unconsciously, it only turned him on more. 
His hips flexed forward, trying to push impossibly deeper into you, and you bit your lip, forcibly holding in a moan. 
“I’m sorry.” He whimpered into your neck, his voice entirely pathetic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh-” 
He felt your cunt clench around him, you becoming so turned on by his whimpers of ‘I’m sorry’. You couldn’t help but to love his pathetic sweet compliance. But then, feeling that wet heat tighten around him even more, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 
He pulled his hips back and fucked forward once, and then - that animal thing inside of him took over. And he began fucking you at an even pace, chasing his orgasm inside of you as though you were nothing more than a hot, wet hole for him to fuck. 
“Spencer!” You scolded in a sharp gasp, trying your hardest not to show a pleasurably reaction toward his bratty entitlement and ruthless possession of your body - something he had not yet earned. Not by far. 
“Oh, I’m not sorry!” He moaned louder, lifting his head from your shoulder to give you an utterly filthy grin.
He couldn’t bring himself to be sorry anymore. Not when it felt this good. 
It was one of the most wicked things he had ever done in your presence, and it made you very tempted to reach up and slap him across the face - wanting to slap that grin right off him. You just barely held yourself back from doing so. 
He felt like he had won. At this point, he didn’t even care if it was at your expense. Right now, he was being so truly selfish. 
He was entirely unapologetic in his movements, pounding away at your pussy like it was his own personal toy. He fucked like an entitled boy, like someone with absolutely no regard for his partner’s pleasure - and oddly enough, that only turned you on more. 
It was a dizzying feeling that was only increased by how natural he seemed to be, especially for a first-timer. He was easily keeping up the hard pace, driven only by his pure, selfish need and chasing the heat of your pussy around him, never wanting it to end. 
He hammered his hips into you evenly, becoming sloppy at points, clearly only chasing his own pleasure in a way that drove all of your instincts insane. He absolutely wasn’t performing - he wasn’t fucking you with purpose. He wasn’t trying to make you cum. He was using your body for his own selfish pleasure. He just wanted to get his dick wet like the selfish boy he was. 
There was only one thought on your mind. 
“Filthy brat!” You spat out. 
Spencer couldn’t care less if that was good or bad, even though you hurled it out beside his ear like a cruel insult. He didn’t care if it was an insult - he was still getting to fuck your perfect pussy, he was still feeling you clenching around him as you huffed in his ear. 
All he knew for certain was that you were dripping wetness around him, leaking down over his balls. You were a clenching heat that made him feel like his cock was finally home and he never wanted to leave it. He let out a victorious giggle in between moans as he continued to fuck you. Although you felt an orgasm building in your belly, you felt the overwhelming need to put him in his place. 
You weren’t going to let him get away with this behavior, even if he did have a magnificent cock.
“Dammit, Spencer!” You cursed, bitter annoyance still ripe on your lips. 
Before you could even think too much about it, you reached around his body and sharply spanked the broad of his bare ass cheek. You were desperate to find something that would get him back under your control. It wasn’t even your most powerful swat, seeing as you couldn’t get much heft from the angle of being below him. 
But the hit left a mild sting on your fingers, and caused a nice smack of skin on skin in the room. 
In a second, the sting of the hit across his ass had his hips stuttering in inconsistent waves as he flooded your insides with hot cum. 
You felt a slight wave of disappointment as your orgasm dulled inside your belly, his cock stuttering to a stop and unable to keep up the pace that was driving you there. But then you were boiling with heat once again as you felt his cum leaking out of you around the base of his cock where the two of you were joined - you couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling. And you loved soaking in the filthy knowledge that he had cum so quickly simply from being spanked. 
He was definitely a brat who liked to be punished. Someone who needed to be put in his place by you. 
You should have been angry with him for foregoing the condom, and cumming inside of you so abruptly. But you couldn’t find much anger there as he bit your shoulder and moaned hoarsely as his orgasm pumped through him. It only lit a bitter fire in your belly, telling you that you were going to keep him, because this turned you on too damn much. 
Spencer moved to pull away as the clenching of your pussy around him became too much. But you weren’t going to let him get away that easily. 
You moved both your hands to his ass cheeks, digging your nails into the flesh there. You clung onto him hard and made a rough movement, shoving him forward until his cock fucked all the way back into you. You moaned under your breath at this and he let out a tattered gasp at the pure overstimulation. 
“You’re not done yet.” You told him, entirely demanding. “You wanted it so damn bad, brat. So go on. Keep going.” 
Spencer moaned at this. He almost wanted to argue - he was tired, that had been so much for him. 
But as he became dizzy with the feeling of hot pin pricks all over his almost numb, still somehow rock hard cock, he could find no flaws in your logic. He only wanted to say yes. He wanted to live inside your pussy forever. He realized that he never wanted to pull out if you weren’t going to make him. 
He tucked his forehead back into the crook of your neck and began fucking into you roughly once again, battering his hips between the sharp prick of your nails in his ass and the hot pool of his own cum that he had left inside of you. 
“Thank you!” He moaned out. “Thank you, thank you, oh thank you!” 
“You better fucking thank me.”
...
A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, and there will not be a sequel or a continuation to it. If you enjoyed it, please comment about the body of work that has been written. If you like my writing style and want to read more about Spencer, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my other Masterlists to see if something else catches your eye.
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ch3rriiii-bunn · 1 year
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Just like them
With Hantengus clones♡ AHHH THIS IS PROBABLY THE CUTEST IDEA I CAME UP WITH
Warnings: female bodied reader, demon reader, harpy reader (on Urogi's part), reader is mentioned to have darker skin and thicker hair, slightly suggestive(?), fluff, mention of other uppermoons
Aizetsu
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Aizetsu met you through douma. He found you, a demon with skin more melanated and one horn who didn't like to be around humans or demons. Douma decided to introduce you to a demon who is similar to you. His name is Aizetsu
Aizetsu's first impression of you was just as negative as yours. "You're not an upper rank? You must've run into some strong slayers... how sad," he frowned. You frowned as well. "It's a pity, but you're an upper rank, meaning you'd have to run into the hashira... it's terrifying, isn't it?" You look up at Aizetsu as his eyebrows knit at your response
Aizetsu decided to listen to douma on taking you in. Not just because douma is an upper rank, but because he didn't think he'd feel some happiness to be around another demon like him, it felt like a gift. He introduced you to his brothers, but you've always been quiet around them, feeling envy you can't have emotions like that too
Aizetsu was calm like you, which made you feel safer around him. The two of you would relate a lot to each other, which brought you closer, "I hate when Sekido yells at me. He's so mean, " you say with tears filling your water line. Aizetsu comes closer to you, also having the same sad expression, "me too... but I'd never yell at you, " he says and cups your cheek
Aizetsu only smiled around you, not all the time but once in a while. "Can we stay together forever? I don't want you to leave me, " he said with a trembling voice, holding back tears. "I can't leave you. My heart would break," you said, hugging him tightly and crying, making Aizetsu hug you back, crying as well
Sekido
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Sekido met you, though, akaza. Despite akaza hating anyone weaker than him, he had some respect for Upper Moon 4 and found a demon, you who's a lot like Sekido
Sekido and you would bump heads a lot since both of you are easily angered and didn't take any shit from each other. "I'm much stronger than you! How dare you speak to me like that, let alone make that face at me, " he says, raising his voice. You snarl. "And how dare you, a man, speak to a woman like me like that. I don't give a damn if you're stronger. " You raise your voice back
Sekido gets very frustrated with you since he met someone who had the same level as anger as him, but oddly, that drew him closer to you. He couldn't help but smirk whenever you'd boss his brothers around and called them out on their stupidity. Finally, he'd met someone with common sense even if you were a pain in his ass
Sekido would always bring up how he's stronger and would kill you at any time he wished, but it always ends up being empty threats because he actually felt some enjoyment having you around
Sekido makes sure he's alone with you to hold your hand and look away from you. "The fuck are you doing now?" You said looking at him "Shut up. I'm just enjoying you're presents around me. Stupid woman, " he says, and you see his ears turning red. You chuckle "I enjoy your presents too, you stupid man"
Karaku
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Karaku had met you through gyokko. You reminded him of another demon he knew and decided to bring you back to meet him, and boy, were you excited to meet the demon named Karaku
Karaku loved you immediately, and you loved him right back. "Wow, you're gorgeous! I haven't met any other demons with this skin tone as me and my brothers" Karaku laughs, having his arm around you. "Why thank you, and your hair is thick like mine too. It's very handsome if i might say"
Karaku and you would flirt back and forth even in front of his brothers, which would make sekido yell at you both. If you went on missions with Karaku and his brothers, you would get scolded just as much as Karaku by sekido for giving each other the most wicked ideas just for "fun" instead of taking your fights with slayers seriously
Karaku had a habit of always sticking his tounge at you if you ever got mad or upset to cheer you up and you couldn't help but always smile sticking your tounge out back at him and even sometimes putting your tounge on his making you both laugh
Karaku likes to cuddle with you under the moonlight alone. You have your arms around him as well with smile and close your eyes, resting your head on his chest. "I love you. Can i be your girlfriend?" You ask bluntly but still feeling flustered at your own question. "You were mine from the start, pretty girl"
Urogi
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Urogi had a fight with his brothers for the first time ever and flew out of the house for a while to clear his head that day, but he never regretted that because he met you
Urogi was shocked to meet you but was really happy. "Wow! I never met a male harpy! your eyes say upper 4" You gasped and clenched your claws together and covered your mouth "Wow you're an upper rank! That's so freaking cool, dude!". The rush of excitement came to Urogi, and he had the biggest smile on his face. "I don't know what a harpy is, but yeah! And me? You look so freaking cool, too! Your wings are gorgeous!"
Urogi made it his priority to meet up with you after that day whenever he was done a mission and sometimes even brought you around his brothers. His favorite thing to do with you was to lock your talons together and fly high in the night sky
Urogi loved how you felt just as much joy in fighting humans as him and would even made it a game to torture random demon slayers you'd find and play catch with them with your bird like feet in the sky, laughing at their screams
Urogi is a big cuddler and didn't miss the chance to cuddle with you since you loved to cuddle to but never found the right demon to do that with until you met him. You two would be cuddling, facing each other with your arms and legs wrapped around each other and your wings covering you both. "Hey, stay with me forever. I don't think I'd feel joy if you left. I'm strong. I can protect you, " he says."I wasn't planning on flying anywhere with you, " you smiled.
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thatscarletflycatcher · 2 months
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The @hotjaneaustenmenpoll tournament has inspired me to finally write this post, this more than a post, this bit of FUNDAMENTAL Austen adaptation research.
It is well known that there was a Mansfield Park adaptation in 2007, for which the reception went from "eh?" to "huh?", but what most people around here probably don't know, is that this was the cover for the DVD release in Spain:
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And you'll naturally ask, who is that handsome blonde man on the right? He definitely isn't Michelle Ryan, we know what she looks like.
He's Baddeley. The butler. The butler at Mansfield Park. Emma's 2020 class commentary this, and Emma 1996 (ITV) social commentary that, but has any of them put a servant on the cover? Thought so. And people have the gall of calling this a bad, unfaithful adaptation :P
So, in honor of Baddeley and his being the only servant I can think of in the Austen canon of whom we have some pov writing, and what is better, that pov is inner snarky thoughts about Mrs Norris, let's have every time Baddeley shows up in MP 2007, witnesses iconic events, and wins his spot on the DVD cover.
Here we have Baddeley serving some refreshments during Henry and Mary's first visit to Mansfield:
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Here we have him also serving some wine to sir Thomas during the very awkward dinner that followed his return from Antigua:
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Here we have Baddeley making sure Fanny's special picnic goes perfect:
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That includes making sure nobody is dying of thirst (dancing is a very taxing activity!):
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Here we have him at the zenith moment of his telling Mrs Norris that she's not wanted:
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Evil never rests, and neither does Baddeley's commitment to keeping people hydrated, in this case, during a mouth-drying reading of Shakespeare by Henry:
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Sometimes Baddeley's work involves improvising, and taking on jobs others would have considered beneath their title, such as carrying Edmund's bags:
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Or helping sir Thomas get out of his traveling coat:
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But this also has its rewards, as door watch duty allows him to witness the moment sir Thomas yeets Mrs Norris out of Mansfield:
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Alas, in a clear commentary on the class issues of the regency era, despite his relevance to the plot and constant presence at life turning moments of the family, he was not invited and nowhere to be seen at Edmund and Fanny's wedding, while absolute strangers got to witness the momentous occasion instead.
Baddeley, friend, don't be sad. You were there, in our hearts.
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tempobaekh · 8 months
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Dating So Mun headcanons
(this is a long one)
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Pairing: So Mun x civilian!fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, suggestive?? idk, teeny tiny spoilers from avengers: endgame?? y’all will understand when you read this THIS TAKES PLACE IN S2 BUT ALL IS WELL
A/N: I finished tuc last episodes and I’m so sad bc my weekly dose of happiness is over:(( anyways I’m falling more and more inlove with So Mun and wrote this
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OKAY SO
LET'S GET STARTED
So yall met at a food stall and bonded over food
You were a regular at one of the food stalls and really loved by the old lady running the stall
She always gives you samples of new dishes or free food
Even though you would argue with her and try giving her money but she wasn’t having it
ANYWAYS
So Mun had just finished dealing with a level one spirit
Not wanting to disturb the other counters about it as it was just a mere level one spirit and was really easy to deal with
And he decided to stop by the food stalls for a quick snack bc he was feeling hungry
You were at the food stall speaking happily with the old lady
As fate would have it, So Mun found himself at the same stall as you drawn to the mouthwatering aroma of the popular dish the old lady was selling
Your guys eyes met briefly and you two felt an instant connection
As if the universe had conspired to bring yall together
So Mun decided to be the first one to struck up a conversation and asked for your recommendation among the food options
And since you were a regular and you couldn’t pass on the opportunity of speaking to the incredibly handsome man with long luscious curly hair
You decided to share your favorite food/dishes with him
You guys ended up spending the evening chatting and sharing delicious food
And the rest is history
NOW LET'S START WITH YALLS RELATIONSHIP
So Mun’s top priority is your safety
Him being a counter is also the main reason of him being protective
And bc he is just protective over his loved ones
Like he will insist on walking you home no matter what
Picking you up from places
Him always walking on the side of the road
Always holding your hand
He’d always prioritize your safety and well-being
Going above and beyond to keep you out of harm’s way
So Mun wears his heart on his sleeve and is very verbal about his love
Always providing with words of reassurance and love
So Mun did not plan in any way how to tell you about his counter side
He knew he would get a warning from Yung but just couldn’t hold back and continue to lie to you
Like mans loves you too much and cannot physically lie to you too long
So it happened one day
So Mun had just got finished with a particularly hard mission with a level 3 spirit
And something in him just had to see you no matter what
Despite the other counters asking him where he is going
Or Ms. Chu asking to heal him before he leaves where ever he is going
So Mun didn’t listen he only had one thing on his mind and that was you
While you started noticing him disappearing at odd hours
And sometimes the only time you guys would have time to talk would be through late night facetime calls
Or him saying that something urgent came up
You were patient and didn’t want to force it out of him so you didn’t ask him much about him
Besides you trust So Mun to know that he would speak with you when the time comes
One day So Mun had showed up at your door with a cut on his lip, one on his cheek and blood on the side of mouth and forehead after the mission with the level 3 spirit
When you opened your apartment door So Mun just engulfed you in a tight hug
You could also feel something wet on your shoulder where So Mun had nuzzled his face
You came to the conclusion that he was crying
You just stood there rubbing his back and whispering ‘it’s okay’ or ‘I got you baby’ while waiting for him to calm down
When he did calm down you silently dragged him to your bathroom and sat him down on the toilet seat
You grabbed your supplies to clean his cuts while your hands were shaking from worry
You just silently cleaned his wounds
Having silence from So Mun was also concerning considering that he is a very talkative person
When you got done cleaning his wounds you crouched in front of him
“What happened, darling?” you asked in a gentle whisper
That’s when So Mun told you everything
Him being a counter
About the evil spirits
About the other counters
And how tonight’s mission was hard and that he felt like he had to see you instead of letting one of the counters heal him
He also mentioned how he would get a warning from ‘Yung’ for telling you this
You did scold him a bit about that
But he couldn’t hold it in anymore
Like he can never ever lie to you he loves you too much to do that
When he got done talking you just silently hugged him
Holding him close to your chest and pressing small kisses to his forehead
That’s how the rest of the night went
You comforting So Mun and him telling you more about him being a counter
And now you are even more worried and concerned about So Mun
Often waiting for his call or him when he is on mission’s
Now to be honest So Mun was kind of nervous about introducing you to the rest
They can be a bit… much sometimes
He wants everything to go smoothly
So Mun waited for the right moment to introduce you to the others
So he decides to tell the counters first
He casually drops the news when they are all having dinner together at the hideout
The moment the sentence i have a girlfriend leaves his mouth
It’s silence
Fucking silence even Jeok Bong is stunned
Before all hell breaks loose and everywhere is throwing questions at poor So Mun
“Girlfriend?” “When and how and how long!??” “How does he get a girlfriend before me!”
And when he tells them that you know about the counter part
MS CHU AND HANA GO OFF ON HIM
SCOLDING THE SHIT OUTTA HIM
But at the end they calm down and Ms Chu encourages So Mun to invite you over for dinner:))
So Mun playfully not threatens the other counters to act normal and not scare you off
When So Mun then mentioned to you about the counters wanting to meet you
You panic like what if they don't like you? What if they get mad that you know about them being counters?
You know that these people are important to So Mun
They are like his family and you want their approval
So you and So Mun agree on going to dinner and meeting the counters
Ms Chu wanted to make you her infamous and delicious noodles
At the start the vibe is slightly tense before Jang Mul breaks the silence with his booming voice
Ms Chu thinks you are very pretty, and sweet, and perfect for So Mun
Motak and Jeok Bong do not pass off the chance to tease the shit out of So Mun
While Hana has only one question:
“Why him??”
Obviously she’s joking
She’s already planning y'all's wedding in her head, and swears to protect you and So Mun more no matter what
So all of the counters adore you to put it plainly
After the dinner you come around for sleepovers with So Mun much more
Always being a part of game and movie nights with the other counters
And then end the night by cuddling and falling asleep with So Mun
So Mun’s determination and dedication in his counter duties would also translate into his relationship
If you ever face challenges or obstacles you can count on him to stand by your side and work tirelessly to overcome them
That being said he never ever let’s both of you go to bed angry after a fight even though yall dont have many of them
He cannot stand the fact of going to bed angst at you or knowing that you are angry at him
Dates with So Mun are always different
It can be a stroll in the park, cooking a meal together, movie night with lot’s of kissing as well, visiting an art gallery bc he loves art so much and you can listen to him talk for hours, late night snacks, bookstore dates, going to the amusement park, star gazing etc
Like dates with him are always so fun and loving
Bc this man uses all his love on these dates bc he just loves you so much.
So Mun has seen a lot of supernatural shit no he’d have a special appreciation for the ordinary, everyday moments you share together
Like a simple meal or a walk in the park would mean a lot to him
Speaking of art
This man has so many drawings of you
Any chance he gets he will draw you no matter what
He has so many sketches of you while you are doing different things
Bc he thinks you are so pretty
The prettiest in the whole world
The drawings can’t do justice to your beauty he insists
Movie nights with him are always fun
Like he is always down to have a marvel movie marathon with you
Cmon guy’s So Mun LOVES comics you cannot not tell me he doesn’t like marvel especially the comics
Will absolutely hold you in his arms and coo and comfort you when you sob at Tony and Natasha’s death while watching Avenger: Endgame
Like it hurts everytime
Trust me it does;((
So Mun is your biggest cheerleader in your life
Like mans is always there for you cheering you no matter what
So Mun might occasionally struggle with balancing his duties as a counter and his desire to spend time with you
There would be rare moments of conflict but he always prioritize you and your safety
WEARING HIS JACKETS!!!
(or wearing his clothes in general!!)
If you’re cold he is handing you his jacket
And since he already wears oversized ones they are even bigger on you no matter what
Like you see his closet and just snatch whatever you like
He doesn’t mind
He LOVES seeing you in his clothes
HE THINKS YOU LOOK SO CUTE IN THEM
LIKE HE SQUISHES AND PINCHES YOUR CHEEKS
AND COOS AT HOW ADORABLE YOU LOOK IN HIS CLOTHES
Physical touch is one of So Mun’s biggest love language
So he always has an arm around you
A hand on your thigh
Rubbing his thumb on your palm
Holding pinkies
ALSO
MAKEOUT SESSIONS!!
You guys have been caught more than once making out by the others
LIKe
THIS MAN LOVES KISSING YOU
NO MATTER WHAT
And he is damn good at it too
Cocky mf will smirk when he sees how flustered you get after a heated makeout session
Loves having you on his lap while kissing you
Also please tug/pull at his hair like he secretly loves it
THIS MAN DEFINITELY GROANS WHEN YOU TUG AT HIS HAIR
CURRENTLY KICKING MY FEET, GIGGLING, TWIRLING MY HAIRKSJDJSKSHDKJDK
Loves giving you hickies
Like he almost goes feral at seeing the mark that HE gave you on your neck
Mf will purposely give you one on an obvious place that you forget to cover up
And when the others see it they will be shocked
“Yah! You attacked the poor girl!”
“Your neck looks like it’s been mauled.”
But this cocky bastard isn’t fazed
Is fucking proud instead
ALSO
BEING THE MENACE HE IS
When there isn’t any place for you to sit in a setting or place
hE WILL SMIRK
FUCKING MAN SPREAD HIS LEGS
AND TAP HIS THIGH TO INDICATE THAT HE WANTS YOU TO SIT THERE
bro has too much rizz
LIKE IF YOU WALK PAST HIM AND HE FEELS LIKE IT HE WILL PULL YOU ONTO HIS LAP AND WRAP HIS ARMS AROUND YOUR WAIST AND LEAVE KISSES ON YOUR NECK
I'M CURRENTLY MALFUNCTIONING
Also here are some things that So Mun unintentionally does that you think is so attractive and it drives you crazy
When you are standing in the way of him
He will gently grip your waist and move you aside while softly whispering in your ear, “Excuse me, baby.”
LIKE AHHHSKDHDKSK IT JUST MAKES YOUR HEART EXPLODE
There is a noticeable height difference between you two and you find it so attractive when he slightly leans down bc he can’t hear you completely
It just makes you stutter for a moment and collect yourself
Also i feel like So Mun if the type of guy to wear gray sweatpants with either, a t shirt or a compression shirt
And that shit is so sexy
Like you can just sit and watch him in that attire train for hours
Definitely does it to tease you sometimes as well
You’ve met his grandparents and they love you sm
Especially his grandmother
She adores you
And you love her bc she is so genuinely kind hatred and sweet
“Munyoung has sent So Mun an gel to take care of him!”
You almost cried when she told you that
When you are having sleepovers with So Mun at the hideout and y'all can’t sleep you guys will just sit around in the kitchen and eat snacks
Like just sitting on the floor, your head on So Mun’s lap
His hand tangled in your hair and massaging your scalp
While eating snacks and just talking
Or sometimes when you two have too much energy yall will have a singing session
You guy’s would sing and jam out to Lana Del Rey, Taylor Swift, or Chase Atalantic
Istg So Mun is so Lana Del Rey and Chase Atlantic coded idc what yall say
You stand in the boxing ring pretending to be the singer giving a performance
While So Mun is outside the ring cheering you on
Acting like your biggest fan he is anyways
And cheering on encouraging words
“Yeah! That’s my talented baby!”
“You’re doing so good!”
“My pretty girl!”
You guys have been yelled at and sent to your room more than twice by Hana
Who wakes up by the noise
You always carry around multiple hair ties on your wrist for So Mun
Bc you know that he sometimes get irritated when his hair gets in his face
So you either just tie his hair in a ponytail and kiss his forehead
Or he borrows the hair tie from you and presses a kiss to your lips
He treasures all of your hair ties
Like he was on the verge of tears when he once lost your hair tie on a mission
ANYWAYS here are some pet names So Mun calls you by:
Sweetheart: So Mun uses this classic term of endearment bc it’s simple and affectionate
Sunshine: So Mun might use this one bc you bring warmth and light to his life
Precious: He values the people he cares about deeply, and this pet name would show just how important you are to him
Beloved: So Mun is a sincere and devoted guy and he would want you to know how deeply he cares for you. “Beloved” would be a heartfelt way to express his affection
Dearest: This pet name simply emphasizes that you hold a special and dear place in his heart and it’s a reflection of his genuine feelings for you
In conclusion So Mun is the most loving, precious, loyal, sweet, and caring partner
We all need a So Mun in our lives.
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tenpintsofsundrop · 8 months
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Loverboy
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Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)!Fem!Reader (Smut Blurb)
Concept: You try your best to make Spencer's first time a good one. Spencer can't hold himself back, and makes it an incredibly memorable night for the both of you.
Word Count: 3,100
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Please note - this fic contains Dubious Consent. The characters agreed beforehand to use contraception in the form of a condom, and then one of them foregoes the condom without asking the other for permission. The characters are safe and everything in the fic works out.
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: mainly smut/pwp; generally under-negotiated kink; mentions of the social constructs around virginity and the social pressures that men feel based around sex; this is Spencer's first time having sex and the reader is a lot more experienced; this is not an explicit or pre-planed dom/sub relationship, but there is dom/sub undertones to their interactions; Spencer is more submissive (and bratty/defiant - before becoming compliant) and the reader is more dominant/leading; the reader calls Spencer 'baby' and 'brat'; she reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; penetrative sex/penis in vagina sex; mentions of fingering (does not take place during the fic); "just the tip"; unprotected sex - the reader and Spencer agreed to use a condom beforehand but Spencer pushes in without one (the reader secretly loves it, but doesn't want to tell Spencer because she doesn't want to feed into his entitled brat attitude and this could be considered dubious consent because he broke her consent regarding using contraception); spanking - the reader spanks Spencer (very mild pain kink); something that could be considered 'premature ejaculation' (but imo it's never premature, it's right on time); creampie kink - they both enjoy Spencer cumming inside of her; mentions of Spencer crying (from overwhelming sensations, not sadness or humiliation); overstimulation (toward Spencer); Spencer fucking into his own cum; I believe that is everything.
A/N: Originally, I had this idea when I was thinking about Lessons For A Genius, but I realized that it didn't quite fit the tone of that fic, so I decided to write it separately. I hope all you Subby Spencer lovers enjoy it! (Also can you tell that 'just the tip' is my new fav trope? lmao)
...
“You ready, baby?” You cooed, gently running your hands through Spencer’s hair.
You tried to keep that same soothing, sweet voice that you had been using with him all night, trying your best to keep his nerves at bay. You knew that this was an uneasy time for him - between the social pressure of being a man who had never had sex with a woman before and wanting to ‘impress’ you and his general shyness around other people. You just wanted him to be comfortable and at ease so that he could enjoy himself. Which, of course, was generally the point of having sex. 
When Spencer had asked you to take his virginity, you felt incredibly honored. He was handsome, and despite him being ‘socially awkward’, he was charming. He had his own unique way of flirting, and he did have his choice of beautiful women that he could have fucked instead of you. There had been plenty of gorgeous women from his past, so you were surprised that he was even still a virgin in the first place. 
But when he had been explaining it to you, he had mentioned that the ‘social awkwardness’ had played a big role. The nerves. He had expected that one night, he would simply kiss a woman that he was on a date with, and things would just naturally ‘go from there’. But it never happened like that. He never had that movie romance moment where it fell into place. So instead, he had asked you. 
He told you that he found you intensely attractive, and - the part he hadn’t told you - he had been fantasizing about this for a while. He found everything about you utterly perfect. From the way your clothes hugged your curves to the way you looked dangerous suspects in the eyes and screamed at them without flinching. 
(And stowed away as a deep, dark secret, he had imagined himself in that position many times - handcuffed to an interrogation table, screamed at by you until he was begging for mercy.) (But again, that wasn’t information he was going to just volunteer to give up willingly.) 
So when Spencer laid it all out for you, fidgeting nervously and explaining that he finally wanted to know what sex felt like - you couldn’t deny him. He was too sweet, and too pretty, of course you couldn’t deny him. 
Even though it was something the two of you planned, and you would have simply invited him over to your place for the night, he insisted upon a date night out - taking you to a lavish restaurant first. He said that he wanted to act like a gentleman before taking you to bed. And it was a lovely evening, so there were no complaints on your part. 
You had taken him back to your place, and you had done your best to make him comfortable through the kissing, the groping, and showing him how to ‘satisfy’ you (again, upon his gentlemanly insistence). You were plenty turned on just by being with him, but you quickly found out that he was a swift learner with more than just books and very good with his fingers. 
Now, it was time for the ‘main event’ - at least, the part that would make him feel less much like a virgin, marking that big milestone for him. 
To give him control and make him feel more comfortable, you were on your back with your head on the pillows and he was sitting on his knees between your spread thighs. He had his body pressed pretty much flush against your naked one, savoring the feeling of your warmth. He was almost completely naked himself - save for his very Reid white briefs, barely containing his seemingly very long, hard cock. You hadn’t gotten a good look at it yet - just the outline of it through his underwear, and even tented, it seemed very impressive. 
You really wondered how no one else had snatched him up as a partner yet. 
He was hiding his face in your neck out of shyness. His nervous streak was oddly sweet, but it was something you had been trying to coax out of him all night. Even if you found it entirely adorable and endearing. 
“‘m ready.” He hummed into the skin of your neck. 
This sent pleasant vibrations through you, making you moan lightly as well. You rubbed your hands across the broad of his back, continuing to soothe him, trying to get his stiff muscles to relax. 
“Okay, baby.” You told him. “I’m gonna take these off now, is that okay?” You posed, reaching down to the waistband of his underwear. 
He nodded into your neck, but you weren’t entirely satisfied with that. 
“Please use your words.” You told him. 
It was only after the sentence left your mouth that you realized how ‘scolding’ it sounded. How condescending. 
Oddly enough, it was that tone of voice that made Spencer’s cock jolt, and made him so buttery and compliant in seconds. 
“You - you can take them off.” He muttered quietly. 
“Good.” You praised him, your voice short and firm. 
You felt yourself very specifically holding back from saying ‘good boy’ in response. 
You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and got them down over his ass. The material did get slightly hooked up in the length of his cock, and you tried to take a peek between your two bodies to get a good look at his now exposed dick. But you couldn’t see around him with the way he had his face tucked into your neck. Spencer untangled himself and clumsily got the underwear down over his knees and eventually kicked them off. 
He moaned when he jostled slightly and felt his cock nudge up against the wet heat of your pussy. You let out a hot breath at the feeling, tightly locking your hips in order to keep yourself from bucking forward and rubbing yourself across his cock. You didn’t want to overwhelm him with new sensations. And you didn’t need to tempt yourself with the idea of pushing him over onto his back, shoving his cock inside of you and riding him raw like he was nothing more than a toy for your pleasure. 
This was supposed to be about making his first time good - not about chasing your own selfish desires. 
Feeling curiosity flood him, Spencer finally pulled away from his safe haven tucked beside your head to prop himself up and get a better look. He put a hand on each side of your shoulders, looking down the length of your body to stare at the impressive heat nuzzling up against his cock between your thighs. 
He had become well acquainted with your pussy when he had fingered you, and he already knew what a gorgeous, warm, wet thing it was. But seeing your throbbing wetness right up against his cock, getting to see that natural gloss so carelessly slicking him up - it made him truly realize the wicked reality that he was going to slide his cock into that wet heat. 
He was going to fuck you. 
It was a thought that made his head spin, quite literally made him dizzy with pleasure. He felt temptation so ripe in his veins as he got up on his knees a bit more and the bright pink head of his cock naturally found your entrance, naturally kissing right up against it. He let out a moan as that heat fanned out over his cock, begging to swallow him up. He wanted to be swallowed up by you, wanted to be consumed whole. He bit his lip, knowing it would be wrong to do it without- 
“Hold on, baby, we need a condom.” You told him, trying your best to keep a firm, steady voice as you were overwhelmed with sharp jolts of pleasure.
Feeling the thickness of his cock against you - feeling him right there - it was almost too much for you. You were so tempted to roll your hips up and simply take him inside of you. You were so tempted to have him fuck you raw. 
But it was not what the two of you had agreed upon beforehand. You had to be the logical one - you had to enforce the rules. 
While you reached off to the side, to the box of condoms you had waiting on the nightstand, Spencer continued to stare at your glistening cunt with pure concentration knit over his features. 
He was biting his lip with a near bruising hard quality, his brows knit so tight that he likely could have held a quarter between them. All of it was just so tempting. Feeling the heat coming off you; so different from his hand, so different from humping into his bed desperately at night, so lively, so perfect. The feeling of your perfect wetness coating the tip of his cock. 
Something in his mind was screaming at him:
Just the tip. Just the tip. 
He could press the tip of his cock into you without a condom, just for a moment, and it would be fine. He would know what your pussy felt like on his cock without a condom. And then he would pull it out again and put the condom on and everything would be fine. 
Technically, he wasn’t breaking any rules. 
He heard the foil wrapper crinkling as you tore it apart with your teeth and his need grew even more urgent under his skin. 
Before he even fully made the decision, his hips were surging forward, and he was pushing his cock into you. He let out a throaty whimper as he felt more of that perfect heat and wetness enveloping his cock. He couldn’t have stopped at the tip if he wanted to - he likely couldn’t have stopped the movement of his hips even if someone had a gun to his head. 
He kept pushing more and more of his length inside of you with a heaving, broken groan as he fully sheathed his cock inside of you for the first time. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he felt your raw, wet cunt around him - no barriers, no asides. Just the perfect, unadulterated you. 
“Oh god.” Spencer moaned, bowing his head to rest in your neck again as he began to pant furiously. He was trying to keep himself from fucking into you like an animal mindlessly, just chasing his release. He was trying to simply enjoy the hot, wet, tight vice as it pulsed around his hard cock. 
“Spencer!” You scolded him harshly once again. “What the fuck?!” 
Your pussy throbbed with the fullness, only now truly feeling how big he was, and fuck - he was big. He was stretching your pussy out so good, making you clench around him desperately, unconsciously trying to memorize every single ridge and vein that you could feel. Because of course, without a condom, you could feel every single detail of him, including the underside of his cockhead bumping up against one of those incredible spots inside of you that was almost never touched by any other man. 
As much as you love it, this was bad. You had agreed to use a condom. 
You dropped the condom beside your head out of shock. This had been the last thing you had ever expected him to do. Spencer: someone who had been so timid all night. Someone who had asked permission to touch your breasts just a few hours ago. That very same someone had just pushed into you without a condom, without even asking permission. 
He had somehow morphed into a greedy brat in the span of a few minutes. And as much as that turned you on, you couldn’t encourage that kind of behavior in him, because it would turn him into an entitled monster. Every single instinct inside of you told you that you had to punish him for this, rather than spoiling him. 
He had to learn how to behave. 
“Spencer, you-!” You continued to use that sharp scolding voice, and unconsciously, it only turned him on more. 
His hips flexed forward, trying to push impossibly deeper into you, and you bit your lip, forcibly holding in a moan. 
“I’m sorry.” He whimpered into your neck, his voice entirely pathetic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh-” 
He felt your cunt clench around him, you becoming so turned on by his whimpers of ‘I’m sorry’. You couldn’t help but to love his pathetic sweet compliance. But then, feeling that wet heat tighten around him even more, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 
He pulled his hips back and fucked forward once, and then - that animal thing inside of him took over. And he began fucking you at an even pace, chasing his orgasm inside of you as though you were nothing more than a hot, wet hole for him to fuck. 
“Spencer!” You scolded in a sharp gasp, trying your hardest not to show a pleasurably reaction toward his bratty entitlement and ruthless possession of your body - something he had not yet earned. Not by far. 
“Oh, I’m not sorry!” He moaned louder, lifting his head from your shoulder to give you an utterly filthy grin.
He couldn’t bring himself to be sorry anymore. Not when it felt this good. 
It was one of the most wicked things he had ever done in your presence, and it made you very tempted to reach up and slap him across the face - wanting to slap that grin right off him. You just barely held yourself back from doing so. 
He felt like he had won. At this point, he didn’t even care if it was at your expense. Right now, he was being so truly selfish. 
He was entirely unapologetic in his movements, pounding away at your pussy like it was his own personal toy. He fucked like an entitled boy, like someone with absolutely no regard for his partner’s pleasure - and oddly enough, that only turned you on more. 
It was a dizzying feeling that was only increased by how natural he seemed to be, especially for a first-timer. He was easily keeping up the hard pace, driven only by his pure, selfish need and chasing the heat of your pussy around him, never wanting it to end. 
He hammered his hips into you evenly, becoming sloppy at points, clearly only chasing his own pleasure in a way that drove all of your instincts insane. He absolutely wasn’t performing - he wasn’t fucking you with purpose. He wasn’t trying to make you cum. He was using your body for his own selfish pleasure. He just wanted to get his dick wet like the selfish boy he was. 
There was only one thought on your mind. 
“Filthy brat!” You spat out. 
Spencer couldn’t care less if that was good or bad, even though you hurled it out beside his ear like a cruel insult. He didn’t care if it was an insult - he was still getting to fuck your perfect pussy, he was still feeling you clenching around him as you huffed in his ear. 
All he knew for certain was that you were dripping wetness around him, leaking down over his balls. You were a clenching heat that made him feel like his cock was finally home and he never wanted to leave it. He let out a victorious giggle in between moans as he continued to fuck you. Although you felt an orgasm building in your belly, you felt the overwhelming need to put him in his place. 
You weren’t going to let him get away with this behavior, even if he did have a magnificent cock.
“Dammit, Spencer!” You cursed, bitter annoyance still ripe on your lips. 
Before you could even think too much about it, you reached around his body and sharply spanked the broad of his bare ass cheek. You were desperate to find something that would get him back under your control. It wasn’t even your most powerful swat, seeing as you couldn’t get much heft from the angle of being below him. 
But the hit left a mild sting on your fingers, and caused a nice smack of skin on skin in the room. 
In a second, the sting of the hit across his ass had his hips stuttering in inconsistent waves as he flooded your insides with hot cum. 
You felt a slight wave of disappointment as your orgasm dulled inside your belly, his cock stuttering to a stop and unable to keep up the pace that was driving you there. But then you were boiling with heat once again as you felt his cum leaking out of you around the base of his cock where the two of you were joined - you couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling. And you loved soaking in the filthy knowledge that he had cum so quickly simply from being spanked. 
He was definitely a brat who liked to be punished. Someone who needed to be put in his place by you. 
You should have been angry with him for foregoing the condom, and cumming inside of you so abruptly. But you couldn’t find much anger there as he bit your shoulder and moaned hoarsely as his orgasm pumped through him. It only lit a bitter fire in your belly, telling you that you were going to keep him, because this turned you on too damn much. 
Spencer moved to pull away as the clenching of your pussy around him became too much. But you weren’t going to let him get away that easily. 
You moved both your hands to his ass cheeks, digging your nails into the flesh there. You clung onto him hard and made a rough movement, shoving him forward until his cock fucked all the way back into you. You moaned under your breath at this and he let out a tattered gasp at the pure overstimulation. 
“You’re not done yet.” You told him, entirely demanding. “You wanted it so damn bad, brat. So go on. Keep going.” 
Spencer moaned at this. He almost wanted to argue - he was tired, that had been so much for him. 
But as he became dizzy with the feeling of hot pin pricks all over his almost numb, still somehow rock hard cock, he could find no flaws in your logic. He only wanted to say yes. He wanted to live inside your pussy forever. He realized that he never wanted to pull out if you weren’t going to make him. 
He tucked his forehead back into the crook of your neck and began fucking into you roughly once again, battering his hips between the sharp prick of your nails in his ass and the hot pool of his own cum that he had left inside of you. 
“Thank you!” He moaned out. “Thank you, thank you, oh thank you!” 
“You better fucking thank me.”
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sashi-ya · 3 months
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𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑨 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻. Trafalgar Law x F! Reader
🌨 a/n: so I recently been to Austria, a country I often visit since it's literally like a dream. (plus, my mom knew she was pregnant with me there, so I was used to come back to Innsbruck as much as I could with her). But in any case I got inspired there to write this little fic, that might -or not- be a multi chapter one if you all like it. The place exists and the scam part, happened to me -kinda, the airbnb existed, but not as it was listed :P- but in any case, please enjoy and don't forget to leave some feedback if you want more~ ❄ tw: a very sfw story, that might evolve into something else if you want me to keep writing about their trip 😏 ☃ wc: 2.6k
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Hijacking for the first time, what could go wrong? Maybe everything, maybe nothing.
A two-month long trip all around Europe has found you on a little village of Austria. Your boots are cold, but luckily they are snow proof ones. Your skin all bumpy, your cheeks irritated. It’s been snowing all night, and despite the sun rising for now, some clouds in the sky menace with more white blessing to fall upon your shoulders very soon.
Those little mountain streets around the Alps are wonderful, they surround mountains going up and down and in a spiral way. But those are wonderful, as long as you can drive a car with heating. And you don’t have one right now.
The crunchy sound of the snow beneath your boots mix with the melody of a glacial river running in between the mountain and the road. It is certainly beautiful, the little rocks and stones being bathed by such pure and cold water, the rests of dry leaves and some moss growing on an everlasting shadow casted by tall, enormous peaks.  Everything is worth taking a picture, but you should prioritize your battery life this time around. The GPS is sometimes wonky, being that high can affect the service.
Many cars have passed by, but none of them have stopped. Little lorries carrying logs pass, cars completely drenched in dirty snow and that mix of salt that roads have during winters.
However, just when your hopes for finding someone to at least give you a ride to the next village were about to run out, the yellow shine of an old VW ban flashes before your eyes.
There, behind a curve -a very dangerous one if you ever went to the mountains- something smells like smoke and a tall man of white furry hat swears up to the skies.
You walk towards him, carefully. Who knows what is happening? Who knows who that man is capable of? There is one thing you are sure, however, and it is that this man is absolutely mad at his old van.
When peaking behind a dark wooden tree that’s now covered in spots of white snow, you discover the annoyed man is a young -handsome- one.
His van, a little rusty but still cute, seems to be having problems to keep going and the smoke coming from it shows it very well.
“Sir? Sir! Your van is catching fire!” you announce, realizing the smoke is indeed a very serious issue.
The guy of chocolate skin and tattooed hands turns around to look immediately at you and then to the back of the van. Those 70’s vehicles had actually their engines right in the back instead of the front.
And Indeed, you were right. Apparently the climb had been too tough for the poor old VW and its engine couldn’t take it any longer.
He quickly opens the back door, maybe searching for a fire extinguisher while you grab fistfuls of snow in an attempt to put down the incipient flames. Quickly enough, and with not many damages to count, the fire stops, and the only thing left is a big black spot on the back of the caravan.
“Thank you” he says, as dry as hopefully your socks. “No problem. What happened? Did the engine over heat?” you ask, curious despite his “I don’t want friends” face. “Yes; these hills are no joke. This never happened to my Polar, but there is always a first time…” he sighs, assessing the damage with a sad expression.
Apparently his van has a name; “Polar”. That’s very cute, and his eyes too. A golden shine in them looks even beautiful with the pristine white around. His tattoos do as well. You wonder about his name, and what is he doing on the road, but you are not sure if it’s proper to ask. However, he asks first.
“What are you doing here? do you have a car?” he mumbles, his voice is as attractive as he is. His eyes scan the place, but nothing catches his attention.
“No, I am actually hijacking. No one stopped so I started walking before the sun starts going down. I definitely got scammed; the Airbnb I was supposed to stay in didn’t, in fact, exist.
He grunts, almost silently. Apparently he is not happy with what happened to you but that’s it.
“Well, that’s so unsafe. I am sorry I can’t give you a ride right now. Apparently none of us have been blessed with good luck today” he says, walking around his vehicle with long legs covered in spotted jeans.
You nod. Your tongue is aching to ask about him, but you clearly catch the hint… he doesn’t want you there.
“Yep. Well, I wish you luck! I must keep going” “Same to you, be careful”
He doesn’t even look at you, something that makes you -somehow- very sad. In any case, you start walking away. There is no point in staying there… even if you have great mechanical skills that could help.
And as you do, you also have a very, very loud consciousness voice screaming at you on how could you leave him with no solution if you know it…
“Sir, you should check your water level…”  you shout, a few meters away from him. The sound of your voice echoes in the huge natural immensity of the Alps and his golden eyes finally fall upon you.
He stops moving for some seconds, lost in you. You, as well, wait for him to say something else. Something like “stay with me” or “don’t go”. A total stranger you want to hang up with. A total unknown woman he wants to protect.
“You know how to fix this?” “I do…”
Or so that was what you thought.  
No more than a couple of minutes took you to help him out. VW vans are noble machines; they are durable and easy to fix despite their particular design. And soon, as a part of your payment, the man that you learned is called Law and you drove away through intricate roads and huge snowflakes.
“Where are you going, (Name)-ya?” he asks, handing you an old cover from an old comic, Germa 66.
“I was supposed to stay for a couple of days in Bad Goisern, and then I thought of visiting Salzburg. I am on a long trip through Europe. What about you?”  you ask, cuddling with the blanket. A certain blessing for your freezing hands.
He nods, checking the breaks before going down the hill.
“I am too. I just graduated medical school and I thought of taking a little vacation before my residency starts. I’m going to be a surgeon. A cardiac surgeon” he tells, full of dreams he fails to cover up behind a tough guy expression.
You celebrate his success, and the next couple of hours become a ping pong of questions and answers. A smile on your face that leaves your cheeks hurting accompanies you until the sun hides and the little lights on the mountains start to scatter.
You didn’t want to go down in the first village, nor the second, nor the third. Law, didn’t want you to go down his van either. You named Salzburg, and he promised you to take you there.
But the night found both of you, and apparently your mechanical skills weren’t as good as you thought the would… Polar decided to stop, in the middle of nowhere during a dark, very dark winter night.
You close your eyes as the sound of rusty gears fail and Law’s annoyance grows stronger than ever. When Polar finally loses all of the power, Law manages to agonizingly park on the side of the road and a huge sighs escapes his lips.
You peak through your left eye; his DEATH tattooed fingers squeeze the wheel, and you know he will snap at any moment. But he doesn’t…
“I’m sorry. I thought- I-“ you try to give a plausible apologize, even though you had nothing to do with it.
“No. It is not your fault… it is mine- As we didn’t stop, I have completely forgotten to fuel Polar up” Law says, absolutely mortified for such stupid mistake. Apparently you were enough distraction to keep him from the basics of road tripping.
You breath alleviated and try to stop your upcoming laughter. Your grimacing did nothing to hide it, and a big burst of laughter took over the van and everything around.
Law looks at you pissed, but a soft smirk garnishes his lips. You can’t stop, perhaps it isn’t that funny… but you feel so happy right now. And you have no idea why, since you are literally stranded in a very dark wood with temperatures below 0C and snow pooling on top of that van.
“Welp, it’s ok. We should wait until tomorrow, then” you say, knowing the risks. “You- you prefer spending the night in here? aren’t you afraid of dying?” he asks, surprised.
“I am, in fact, scared of dying. That’s why I know very well I can’t walk during a snowstorm in the middle of the night in the Alps. Plus, you are too sweet to be considered a threat” you joke, searching for some chocolate inside your backpack.
Law narrows his eyes, deepening his frown. Apparently being called “sweet” and “not a threat” is not something he enjoys.
“I could cut you open and took all of your organs out during the night” he says, serious as hell. “Go for it. Don’t forget to steal my heart, doctor” you laugh, taking your jacket off.
Law is flabbergasted; he has never confronted someone like you before… but he is beginning to like it now.
A bar of chocolate that you had kept in your backpack for too long lays too close to his nose. You shake it, offering its sweetness to him.
He takes it but doesn’t eat it. Instead, his hand gets pressed against the window behind you. Law has pinned you against the door of your side. He is not a very muscular man, but he is indeed very tall and lean… if he wanted, he could do anything to you.
Your eyes widen, big as the moon. You swallow, thinking maybe walking through the forest might be a safer option.
“L-Law… I- didn’t mean to-“ you tremble, asking yourself where did you put the Victorinox blade you bought in Switzerland… it should be enough to defend yourself, right?
You notice his chest is also tattooed as his clothes open just a little. His arms, are too. His scent, despite the danger, smells deliciously tempting…
“Don’t trust strangers that easily, (Name)-ya” he whispers, a few centimetres from your lips. Letting you go after and biting the chocolate bar as if nothing has just happened.
You remain there, frozen up with your eyes widen and your lips softly trembling. He is, in fact, very right. Law is indeed a stranger, after all.
When oxygen finally begins to reach your lungs and brain again, you move and blink the dry eyes away. Silently you sit back, properly. You aren’t able to say anything, somehow you have run out of words.
You squeeze the blanket he gave you, covering you as much as you could, making yourself as tiny as possible on that old leather seat.
“Are you ok?” he asks, so nonchalantly.
“Ye-yes, I’m… ok” you mumble back, almost sticking yourself to the passenger door. “Is it ok if I go to sleep? I’m tired”
Law nods, confused. Maybe he was just joking around, but it did scare you big time. He goes down the van and opens the back doors. You look at him disappearing in the darkness until a very little glimpse of silver light coming from the moon filters through the doors.
But, soon after, fairy lights illuminate the back allowing you to discover a very cozy space behind the front seats.
“I am glad I installed this independently from the fuel tank. I have a little power generator for the back. It’s not a hotel bed, but it does the job” he says, showing you a precarious mattress covering the entire floor of the vehicle.
You smile softly, it looks cozy and pretty. The walls are full of random posters and maps, and there is even an old picture of a younger Law with three more guys wearing fancy hats with something written in the snow. You take a closer look at it, to discover it says, “Pirates of Heart” and you giggle. What a peculiar gang name.
“Law, this is really cute. You even have a lot of blankets and cushions!” you chime, easing a little bit.
“My best friend Bepo decorated it for me, I only helped him with the lights” he says, a little embarrassed.
You jump right back, leaving your backpack in the front seat and forgetting everything for the moment. What a reckless lover girl.
“I am going to sleep in the front seat, don’t worry. Use as many blankets as you need” he informs you, closing the back doors and leaving you there. You most probably were to say “no, stay here” but you simply couldn’t.
After all, this tattooed doctor is a gentleman. Right?
You let yourself rest for a bit on that improvised bed, with your sight blurring while looking at the fairy lights. The scent of the blankets and pillows is the same as him, something you secretly enjoy without even knowing. You catch a glimpse of the reflection of him sitting in the front through the back windows, at how he takes his hat off revealing a dark shade of onyx spiky hair.
For the next half an hour, or maybe less, you both become silent. The only sounds are the huge slaps of snow falling from the sky against the van and the subtle whistle of the wind filtering through the doors.
It is cold, but it’s probably colder in the front as Law is only using his Germa 66 blanket to cover up…
“Law? Are you awake?” you ask, shyly.
“Mh? Yes... why?” he asks back, with not much emotion but a soft tremble on his voice. He is probably cold, very cold.
“I feel bad for you; you must be freezing. There is plenty of room back here, you could sleep here. It’s ok with me” you say, taking advantage of not being in front of him.
Law takes a few minutes to move, but he ultimately does. He hops to where you are and sits there crossing his long legs. He is not wearing his black leather boots, so you can see Sora’s socks.
“Cool socks” you say, sitting right in front of him watching his cheeks go blushed. “Here, cover up. You are freezing, doc”
Both of you cover up with heavy blankets and fall into the mattress at the same time, facing each other.
Maybe, it is too strong to deny it. The attraction is natural, and you both can’t stop it… Exactly like the wind and cold reaching your skins.
“I am still cold” you mumble.
“I read in one of my books that the best way to keep the warmth of our bodies is to share it… skin to skin” he whispers, unable to take his eyes away from your lips.
“Is that so?” you breathe, coming closer to his embrace, allowing his arms to surround your frame and your hips to join with the other’s.
His forehead slowly touches yours, the bridge of your noses do as well. Your fingers, playfully but slowly, crawl to the crook of his neck. While his, squeeze your waist with delicate dominance. A leg that snake into the other’s, crossing, tangling…
Lips coming closer, so close. Breaths warming up, going faster and bumpy. Hearts that indeed had been stolen, the first kiss of two strangers, meeting for the very first time like two snowflakes join while falling from an endless sky
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWill they continue their journey together? 🦢
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etheries1015 · 5 months
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HELOI THJERE:
so long story i rewatched corpse bride had a brainrot of it + vil brainrot and i was wondering about a corpse bride au vil x reader (like possibly vil being a corpse/undead groom (idk if i used that word correctly) if that makes sense, and the reader just reciting their wedding vows and accidentally marrying him
tldr: vil x reader corpse bride au where vil is an undead groom request
This was actually kind of fun to write, Lol. I surprised myself with how interesting this was! Thank you for the fun lil' request <3
My (perfect) undead groom
Vil X reader
General warnings: Gender neutral reader, corpse bride au
You stood at the altar to be married off with some...stranger. Riddled with nerves you could not help but become a shaking stuttering mess, after managing to set your soon-to-be mother-in-law on fire and stumbling over your vows, you left in a moment of embarrassment and weakness.
You wandered into the forest, rubbing the engagement ring in your hand with your thumb as you swung your legs back and forth sighing.
"How can I possibly be so stupid," You grumbled to yourself, "Can't even remember just a few silly words? I swear I had them down earlier! why can't I just..."
You took a deep breath with your eyes closed, holding the ring in your hand with a tight grip before exhaling and slowly opening your eyes. With one hand on your chest and the other holding the ring up to the sky, you began to perfectly, clearly, and confidently speak your vows. As you came to the finishing line, you gracefully placed the ring onto a thin branch before your final declaration, and your ultimate life sentence;
"Will you marry me?" A moment of silence, the wind blowing through the leafless trees as you let out a breathless sigh and a pitiful smile with sad eyes. The moment you bent down to retrieve the ring, the branches seemed to come alive as your wrist was suddenly grasped tightly within the brambles, pulling you to the ground. You let out a screech of shock as you pulled your arm roughly back from nature's grasp, falling to the ground. Before you had the chance to get back up, a tall figure was looming over you.
Whoever it was, was incredibly handsome. Strangely, you couldn't really describe how uneasy yet...attracted it made you feel. The man had skin of a blue tint, sunken cheeks, and torn-up wedding attire. One arm was fully shown to be a skeleton, with a portion of his rib bones showing in an opening of his torn tuxedo. Despite this...he was tall, with his blue-tinted skin free from impurities and hair forming his facial features elegantly. His arms were crossed, staring down at your trembling body.
"W-who-"
"Hmm," He said, bending over to get a better look at you with a finger up to his chin in thought. With a tilted head, his beautifully decorated yet empty amethyst eyes looked you up and down- you suddenly felt incredibly insecure at the sudden attention.
"Unkempt outfit, unconfident gaze, and the resemblance of a half-priced sack of potatoes," You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows, flabbergasted at his brazen comments. You opened your mouth to protest before he roughly grabbed your cheeks and turned your head left and right. "However, confident vows, elegant execution, and heartfelt emotions" You felt yourself side-eye awkwardly, feeling this very one-sided conversation further your confusion (and lowkey hurt your ego while inflating it all the same.)
"You could use some work, but.." He removed his skeleton hand from your face to take a look at the ring you had put upon what was a branch only moments before, admiring the way it glittered in the moonlight. The strange man smiled fondly before looking back down at you.
"I do."
"You do what?" You exasperated.
"I will marry you, potato."
You suddenly scrambled to your feet and began to spit out incoherent words of protest- all falling upon deaf ears. The tall, mysterious man grabbed you by your hand and began to lead you into his world.
"I must introduce you to Rook and Epel," He said, turning to you with a handsome smile, "They must know I have finally found myself a spouse. And I need all the help I can get to fix you up to be suitable to be called mine."
~~
Masterlist
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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 5 months
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Every Lifetime
Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC
Masterlist
Part 2
Warnings: Cazador being awful, violence, main character death, angst, compulsion, sad af
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Cazador removed Astarions blindfold roughly. His eyes taking time to adjust, he struggled a bit against the binds that tied his hands behind him. Cazador threw you down in front of Astarion. He swore his heart squeezed so tight in his chest he could hear it cracking. You were closer to Cazador than Astarion ever wanted you to be. 
“How rude of you not to introduce us to your friend. Did I raise you without manners, boy?” Cazador spat as he pulled you away from Astarion by your hair. You let out a shriek which only made Cazador pull harder. Astarion struggled but with his wrists and ankles bound there was nothing he could do. 
———————-
You and Astarion had known each other since you were young. Nearly inseparable as you grew up amongst the high elves despite being a drow. Astarion and you took care of each other and eventually went to Baldur’s Gate together, tasting freedom as adults for the first time. Neither of you ever said it, but neither needed to. You were it for each other. Like perfect puzzle pieces. You never yearned for another, always finding safety and solace in one another. 
The night Astarion was made a spawn was the worst night of your life. The gur beat you as well, not nearly as badly as they had him though. They just wanted you out of the way. You watched through hazy vision as Astarion went limp, battered and bloody, before they took him from the house you shared. You awoke the next day, everything destroyed and no Astarion to be found. You grew cold as your heart locked itself away. 
100 years passed but you remained in Baldur’s Gate. Astarion was your only home, so you settled in the last place you were together. You opened a little shop, making potions of different varieties. You made a good life for yourself. And yet, you felt so alone in the world. You never stopped wanting for Astarion. So when you bumped into him on your way home from your shop you were sure you were hallucinating. It was him but it wasn’t. This Astarion had white hair, red eyes, and fangs. He had been keeping an eye on you from the shadows since the day he was turned. He didn’t trust himself to be around you, not with the sanguine hunger constantly clawing its way up his throat. For 100 years he watched your flourish, and yet, you had an air about you that felt lonely. He missed you endlessly. Sometimes the thoughts and memories of you were all that kept him going. Cazador was a cruel master, he never wanted you mixed up with him. But Astarion couldn’t help it, he had gone without for 100 years. But having you in front of him, he couldn’t resist. No words were shared as you both attached your lips to each other fervently. Every emotion being let out into the kiss, both of you could feel tears on your faces. When you finally did break for air you held him tightly as he did with you. The cold aura you had melted away in an instant, you had him back. Your little star. Still as handsome as ever, but there was pain in him, you could see it. You pulled him into your house, the very same you had both resided in once. He looked around, smiling softly. It was very, you. Just the way he’d imagined it. 
“How?” was all you said, looking at him with big wet eyes.
“That night… I was so close to death, a man named Cazador promised he could save me… I was so afraid… I accepted and he turned me into this… this monstrous thing.” 
You could hear the hateful quiver in his voice. But also one of fear, of nervousness. You went to him, holding his face, looking deep into his eyes. “Vampire or not you are still my little star. Nothing will change that.” you kissed him again. He held you close, afraid that the last 100 years had changed him too much. 
He told you everything. Showed you the scars. Explained why he couldn’t stay but how he would always come back for you. And he did, he visited as often as he could. His master kept him on a short leash but you were just elated to have your love back. The world seemed brighter, sweeter. 
Until this fateful evening. The knock on the door wasn’t Astarion but another vampire. You had no time to react before he hit you, knocking you out, the world fading to black. And now you were here, in a grand palace being dragged away by your hair. Cazador held up a dagger, ready to strike you down before a devious little thought crossed his mind. Astarion begged and pleaded as Cazador stalked back to him. Do anything to him just please let you go. 
“Oh… Oh I see! How you have grown up Astarion. Find love did you? Well, why don’t you love them… to death.” Cazador laughed. He compelled Astarion to walk to you, forcing himself on top of you. You whimpered, not afraid of Astarion but afraid of what Cazador would do to him. You could see the same fear reflected in his own eyes. They were big and soft, you knew it wasn’t him doing any of this. 
“Please…” Astarion begged once more, tears streaming down his face. It almost made Cazador’s undead heart stir. Almost. 
“Drink.” Cazador demanded. Astarion let out a sob before sinking his teeth into your neck. You yelped, the unexpected pain catching you off guard. You could feel gulp after gulp of blood leaving you. You knew you were going to die, you made peace with it quickly. You tangled your hand into Astarions wispy locks. “I’ll find you again. In every lifetime. Always.” you reassured him. You grew cold, your hand falling limply from his hair. “Goodbye little star… I love you…” was the last you could manage to mumble out before slipping into oblivion.
When Cazador finally released Astarion he fell next to you, his body wracked with sobs. He traced his fingers softly over your face. “Darling please… wake up… I’m so sorry… I didn’t want to…” 
Cazador stalked over to him, making him rise out of compulsion. “You have no one in this world but me, boy. You’d do well to remember that.” he tossed Astarion aside, leaving him alone in the large palace hall. All Astarion could do was cradle your lifeless body, whispering to you, rocking you. Dreaming you would stir, you would wake up and reassure him everything was fine. 
You never did. He buried you himself, next to the same grave Cazador made him claw his way out of. He needed to be able to see you again, somewhere to find peace with you. He swore to you he would defeat Cazador. He would find you again, bring you back. In every lifetime. Always.
-------------------
Naboo's Note:
Ahhhhhh! So sad but fear not, there will be a part two! I'm hoping to get it out tomorrow or Saturday. Thank you all for being patient with me, today is the first day since surgery I haven't been 100% bed bound from the pain. Thank you all for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Ilysm, see you again very soon! xoxoxoxo
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velvet-lounge · 8 days
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Why the TF2 Defense Trio deserve more recognition
The people have spoken, I have decided to create an essay disguised as a post on this godforsaken website because it's a free country goddammit! (I would have done it either way lmaooo, I have a lot of shit to say about these maniacs) To start this formal essay glorified very serious shitpost, why should you as a tf2 fan care about these 3 men? They're so "boring" and there's not much going on with them. If ya took a second, let's pause with what was being said. YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND to think such thoughts, we must shake you out of cuckoo land by giving you an in-depth look into these three so that you understand where I'm coming from. Let's start in order:
Demoman:
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After being in the fandom since 2019, there's always one character I always thought wasn't given much anything in the fandom at all. Even taking ships out of the equation, there's barely any fics I've that focus on Tavish Finneagan Degroot specifically that I've seen that isn't a compilation fic (I read a lot of x readers, don't judge me). Believe me, I checked ao3. I went through Demoman's tags and I tried very hard to filter a lot of the crossover and relationship tags, yet there's less of Demoman himself, than there's him just existing as a side character of a story. Which is honestly sad, I honestly think Demo is one of the more kinder mercs compared to a lot of the team. This man made friends with the BLU soldier, despite knowing that they were supposed to be killing each other. Sure, it's unclear whether or not Demo did actually go through with it and it's just a ruse, because the voicelines in WAR! don't have a set timeline. But I do think that Demo would have tried to keep his friendship with BLU soldier. He's very chill. I've never actually seen him get violent against his friends and family, despite being a drunkard. I honestly think he's one of the sweetest people in TF2, he takes good care of his mom and haunted sword lmaoooo. Jokes aside, he seems like a genuinely good man and I barely see anything that suggests he's sadistic. He's a chaotic and loud, but not bad. Not bad at all. The fact he can still do his job well, even after drinking so much that his body created a whole distillery, is even more impressive. He is damn good at what he does and works very hard. He's had multiple jobs, even as wee little lad. Despite what people think of him, the fact he's getting paid 5 million dollars a year, is proof he knows what he's doing. He loves his job and couldn't bear the thought of not working. I feel like his backstory isn't talked about enough in the fandom either. When you think about it, it's kinda fucked up that he was put in an orphanage by his biological parents until he was in the right age to be blowing people up. Not only that, his eye socket was haunted by the Bombinomicon so that every halloween a giant eye would manifest, attacking him and his friends. Even Medic couldn't help him and instead resorting to scooping the part of Demo's brain where he remembered so he would stop asking. He most likely has a lot of stories for you, I see him as the type that has a lot to say. His past is the most fleshed out and complete out of all the mercs, which I really appreciate, you can do a lot more with him. Also another thing, during Unhappy Returns, he took the time to reassure Soldier that he wouldn't think he's a civilian. He didn't brush Soldier's worries aside and instead comforted him. I wish I had a lot more to say about Demo because I am baffled that he isn't being gushed about as a potential partner. He has the excitement and like zero baggage. A thing I also wanna point out is that he seems to be insecure of the fact he's a black scottish man with only one eye during Meet The Demoman. I may be reading into things a bit too much, but it makes me wanna be like "NOOOO don't talk about yourself like that, bro. You're so cute UGHHH" Also also he's handsome. Sure looks can be subjective, but I still think Demo has a face I would kiss hehe. He looks great with his beard and his cheeky ass smile. GOD I could gush about him all day, but I have to move on rip.
Heavy:
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Honestly, I'm having a hard time just finding the words to describe this amazing man without giving him the respect he deserves. But I'll sure try. Heavy has had a difficult life and I've always admired how strong he was. Not just of his muscles, but he endured one of the toughest situations and still kept moving forward with his life even though it was traumatizing. You see why I'm even having a hard time talking about him? I can't really get down into the weeds, without getting serious for a min. I feel like the fandom doesn't give him much credit for being able to deal with so much. He's the rock for his family after his father disappeared (atp I think he's dead, which is the cherry on top this depressing sundae) and I wouldn't doubt that he would be the same for his team. He's a man of few words, but that makes him all the more intriguing. Just because this man has a lot of brawn does not mean he's dumb at all. Despite how he acts in the battlefield, Heavy is observant and clever. Although, it's implied that Spy being Scout's dad is an open secret between the mercs and Miss Pauling, the fact he figured it out without saying it directly must mean he has a lot more going on. He's also educated, getting a phD in Russian Literature. It's not a STEM program, but he actually got a doctorate and went to college, that's a lot more than half of what the mercs did lmaooo. Also he has a bit of a softie side, not just for his mom and sisters, but also other creatures as well. I respect him so much for avoiding violence against those dogs during the Showdown comic. Not only shows what an absolute sweetheart he is, but also how much he's able to think quickly on his feet. Heavy is very direct and blunt, I don't see him as the type to lie about his feelings. I appreciate that he doesn't feel the need to sugarcoat anything, he'll get the job done and he ain't playing. There's no fluff, he knows what he wants and that's to rev up Sasha and ram through sons of bitches without any worries.
I feel like I wanna point out, his story seems the most unexplored in the fandom, even though it has a lot of potential for ANGST factor. I already broke down how sad it is, but I just feel like it isn't said enough. Can I just say how cuddly he looks?! GAH, I feel like he would give the warmest hugs! The way he smiled in Unhappy Returns when he finds out his family doesn't need to live in fear anymore, just melts my heart! He's so protective over his family and friends! I wish I had a lot more to say about this guy because I just can't stop finding more things about him that go unappreciated. I had to literally edit this part so many times before moving on, he just has those little details you don't notice until you take a second and have that OH MY GOD moment
Engineer:
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I was getting so hyped, when it was finally our resident southern nerd's time to shine. GOD I have so much to say about this man. It's been over 5 fucking years and I have never stopped simping for this man since 2019, I think I'm gonna go insane from how much I've been repressing, I go feral when he's around. Anyways enough stalling. I don't ever think a fictional character has ever made me swoon quite like Engineer, I really mean that. I have ask and pleaded to whatever god was listening to give me a man like Engie. To me, he is everything I ever wanted and more.
First, I wanna talk about what makes him attractive to me. His accent. His southern charm, UGH he's killing me with that smooth voice and chivalry! I swear this man could make me faint just from existing. The way he smiles is so warm, his insults are so corny I love them. That five o clock shadow GAHH! I'm getting butterflies all over again. I swear I love all three of the defense bois, but Dell Conagher has my heart wrapped around his gunslinger metal finger. All those personal reasons aside, I've always thought Dell Conagher was a very interesting character in the world of TF2. He might not have much screen time or goofy shenanigans like the other mercs, but that doesn't mean you can ignore him oh no no no. This man is important within the whole story of Mann Co and TF industries, his grandfather being the catalyst of the game's events and the comics going forward. The Conaghers are the SOLE REASON why Team Fortress 2's story exists. I find it strange that the fandom hasn't done much with this fact because you can do a lot with this idea. Engineer knows a lot of shit and would be the biggest threat to Helen, if not for the fact that his family has been helping her for years.
Like his backstory, he's not seen much in the battlefield, but he has a lot more going on behind the scenes. Imagine the possibilities. He is damn intelligent and he knows it. While Dell is very sweet and has a southern charm, this is a facade to hide his God complex and sadistic tendencies. If you think this man is just your boring gentle engineer, you've got a big storm coming. It's heavily implied that he sawed off his own arm so that he could use the gunslinger. This man works on projects with Medic and doesn't question the moral implications of putting a human brain in a pumpkin. Hell, he threatened his own employer, even if he was an old man (Granted, Blutarch dug up his grandpa's grave, so he probably should have gotten something a lot worse than just Dell telling him to fuck off). Engineer is more than the texan egghead sweetie pie, he is a mercenary for a reason and I would argue that he might be as insane, if not more than, the rest of the team. No sane man would willingly work with a bunch of war criminals if he wasn't also crazy. That's the thing I really like about him. I love playing as him in the game because it represents his character very well. He technically serves a supportive role to the team with his buildings, but he is a killer with a lot of tools in his disposal, With the right amount of training, he can absolutely dominate in the battlefield.
I feel like he's one of the people that underestimate and assume that he's an easy target, but he's a lot more than that. He has a lot of layers that makes me want to learn more about him and what he has to offer.
In Conclusion:
These guys are cool. Lmaooo okay I won't just end it there. I genuinely believe that they're not getting the recognition that they deserve, they've got a lot more going for them if you pay attention. Sure they might not always be the loudest or most prominant character in the story, but what they lack in quantity, they make up for in quality TEN FOLD. They don't have to be your favourite, but you should at least give them a chance. You never know, they may surprise you.
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Okay so thats enough of that, I couldn't find a divider above this message, so you're getting this grainy ass gif. Honestly, I put way too much effort on this shitpost lmaooo, but I just wanted to get my thoughts out in a more concise manner. If you want to add more stuff about these three that I didn't mention, feel free to do so. Anyways thanks for reading
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fandomnsfw · 1 year
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A Gift From Thor - Ivar the Boneless x Reader
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(Outfit and hair from this imagine!)
Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader
Prompt: Saved by Lennon Stella and my lack of votes from my deleted poll 😂 sad times man
Description: You are a Viking healer, who travels the world to learn all healing techniques. After an unfortunate tumble from a ship you get lost at sea. As Valhalla becomes more certain you pray to Thor for love and boy does he deliver.
Warning: None really apart from use of a few dirty words for a Manhood.😂
********
“Please don’t let me die here Thor.” You pleaded towards the sky before going under again trying to not swallow anymore water.
“Please don’t let me die here Thor.” You pleaded towards the sky before going under again trying to not swallow anymore water.
When you came back up you realised the storm was spreading around you. You let tears fall down your face as you decided to float on your back for a while. You stared up at the sky suddenly feeling very tired. You tried to fight it but you had been out here for too long.
You knew you wouldn’t survive this despite praying to Thor so you let yourself slip your eyes shut. You hated that you had yet to do so much with your life. You didn’t regret much but you did have one regret swimming through your head as you felt your body slip into unconsciousness.
‘Please let me fall in love once before you take me to Valhalla.’
“Wake up woman! Come on!” You heard someone scream as your body was being shaken. You let your eyes flicker open and the first thing you saw was blue. You thought it was the sea for a second but then realised it was someone’s eyes.
You shot up and backed into a corner anxiously as you looked around the boat your were on. The Vikings on the boat were staring at you curiously as you assessed your dripping wet clothes. You were only in a white night gown which was wet enough to see through making you cross your arms to cover yourself as you curled into a ball.
“What is your name?” The blue eyed man asked with a small glare.
“Y-Y/N.” You stuttered as a cold gust of wind swept over you.
“I am King Ivar.” You stared into his blue eyes and handsome appearance before looking towards the sky with a laugh. Thor couldn’t be serious you thought humorously.
“King Ivar the Boneless.” You chuckled as you shot him a sweet smile. The ruthless Viking that killed his own brother in anger, conquered England and Kattegat.
“You’ve heard of me.” Ivar snorted before staring you down as if trying to read you.
“Yes the ruthless Viking Ivar the Boneless you are a legend. I also know a lot about your condition.” You muttered pointing to his legs.
“I used to treat someone with the same problem.” You whispered softly with a polite smile.
“So you’re a healer?” He asked with a glare almost like he didn’t wish to talk about his illness.
“I have traveled the world learning every kind of healing knowledge I could. My goal was to be the best healer in the world. But it appears Thor has made my fate known.” You chuckled as you recalled your prayer to Thor.
“And what fate would that be?” Ivar asked curiously as he moved closer to you.
“I think I am here to take care of you.” You muttered shyly as you avoided his eyes.
“Maybe you are right. We’re almost at Kattegat, get some rest.” Ivar snorted before throwing his own furs over you as well.
He didn’t say anything and you chose to just accept the unusual kindness with a smile as you drifted off to sleep. You barely registered when your head leaned onto his shoulder but he made no move to remove you so you fell into a peaceful sleep.
Ivar watched you as you slept thinking about how beautiful you were and kind. You hadn’t even been scared of him when you found out who he was and that made him more curious about what kind of woman you were.
He also justified his fascination of you by telling himself you were a healer and could help him manage his pain, but he knew that was a lie. He wanted to get to know you. Find out everything about you and maybe even test your loyalty to him.
Once you had arrived at Kattegat Ivar shook your shoulder gently, rousing you from your slumber. You stood up before bending down to help Ivar stand with the help of his crutch. He gave you a nod before being lifted off the boat.
You followed closely behind as he walked to what you guess was his throne room. He smashed the door open startling the people inside of the room and he was approached by 3 men who looked at him with various emotions.
“Brother thank the gods your finally back.” The one with the same piercing blue eyes said as he approached Ivar with a hug.
“Yes and it appears the gods may favour this young woman here too.” He chuckled as he guided you by you hand to stand in front of him.
“This is Y/N she’s a healer that has traveled the world.” He explained slowly and his brothers looked you up and down. There was a small amount of lust in each of the brothers face which made you step back into Ivar’s space so you were stood in front of him your back pressed against his chest.
“Get your eyes off her brothers she not a slave she’s a free woman who will be my personal healer.” He huffed irritably as his arm wrapped around you waist. His touch was comforting and if made your heart race which was unexpected but you leaned into his touch and his eyes widened a little at that.
“I would like to wash up before we talk about anything else. If that is okay with you my King.” You muttered softly as you turned in his grip, your face was barely a hand width from his, your face flushed which seemed to amuse him.
“Of course love.” He muttered softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear sweetly.
You giggled softly at the new pet name, ducking your head shyly as he asked his slave to help you prepare a bath in his room. You were shocked he was allowing you into his room but you nodded as you followed the slave.
******
Once you had bathed you were dressed in the nicest dress you’d ever seen and the slave braided parts of your hair but left the rest hang loosely around your back. Your dress was pure black with blood red lace wrapped around the sleeves, they also gave you a long fur coat that made you feel like a queen.
You smiled down at your clothes before getting dragged back to the great hall. The slave had barely spoke to you which was a little awkward but once you saw Ivar again you felt more relaxed. He looked you up and down before giving a nod.
You approached him slowly and he pulled a stool up next to his seat at the head of the table. You sat down without a word, laying your hands on your lap as you waited for your next instruction. Slave were bringing in the food when someone finally addressed you.
“I have a question if you don’t mind?” Bjorn asked scepticism clear in his voice.
“Please ask away Bjorn Ironside I have nothing to hide.” You gave him a sweet smile which only seemed to make him more sceptical.
“You know of all our stories?” He questioned slowly and you just gave him a nod.
“Are you not scared of any of us? Even Ivar? No offence but you’re a healer not a shield maiden yet you have no fear of us.” He seemed confused but his question had you laughing which made everyone look at you.
“As you know I was stranded in the ocean when King Ivar found me.” They all nodded and waited for you to continue.
“Before I felt myself drift into unconsciousness I begged Thor for something before I died. It appears he listened.” You added with a giggle.
“What did you ask for?” Hvitserk asked with excitement in his eyes.everyone began eating as they waited for your response.
Bjorn and Ubbe were drinking their mead and Hvitserk and Ivar were eating a piece of meat when you finally spoke up. Let’s just say everyone was shocked by your next sentence.
“To fall in love.” You muttered casually as you vegans to eat your own food.
The drink in the two eldest brother mouth was spat everywhere in shock, Ivar dropped his meat and his mouth fell open and Hvitserk started laughing almost choking on his food as he did.
“You think the gods brought you here to meet someone you will love?” Ubbe asked as he coughed awkwardly.
“No I think the gods brought me here to love Ivar.” You answered simply giving Ivar a sweet smile who flushed a little but his eyes were full of amazement.
“Ivar?” Bjorn asked humorously as he began eating his food.
“Why is that so funny?” You huffed angrily suddenly feeling very offended by how they were treating you.
“Yes, why is that so funny?” Ivar asked irritably, his hand coming down to give yours a reassuring squeeze.
“Because you cannot…you know…” Ubbe muttered awkwardly and you shot a glare his way.
“Because you cannot satisfy a woman.” Hvitserk blurted out and you stood up so fast making everyone jump.
“I can imagine you don’t do a great job at doing it either!” You screamed throwing a cup in Hvitserk’s direction hitting him square it the head. He stood up to retaliate but Ivar stood up in warning.
“Don’t you dare touch her!” Ivar growled as he pulled stroked your hair gently making you smile to yourself.
“I apologise I lost my temper but you should not talk about things you do not understand.” You muttered with a pout.
“He is our brother we know more about him than you.” Ubbe huffed in annoyance.
“Yes about him but not his illness! I have treated another person like him and his cock works just fine from what his wife said. In fact last I heard his wife had given birth to their 4th child.” You snorted as you remembered the joy of the first time his wife managed to conceive.
“How?” Bjorn asked curiously as he leaned his chin on his intertwined fingers.
“The first step is actually getting the person walking and seeing as that has already done all he needs is a special herb from China and a woman to warm his bed.” You answered honestly though the last string of words caused your heart to ache at the thought of another woman enjoying him.
“Kattegat has a few Chinese traders who pass through here maybe one of them has it.” Ivar responded with a small amount of excitement in his voice.
You nodded softly as you stared at your hands and tried not to think about the lucky woman who would be held by this beautiful man. Suddenly you heard Hvitserk laugh at your eyes shot up at the sound.
“And you want to be that woman.” He snorted with a smirk and you frowned.
“I would never presume that a King would want to bed me. I said I was sent by the gods to love Ivar I did not say he was to love me. I will spend my life serving him as his healer and loving him silently.” You muttered with tears in your eyes before standing up and walking out of the great hall.
You could not bare anymore snide comments or horrible things being said about Ivar. How could brothers be so mean to their brother. Not to mention he is their King they should show respect despite being blood.
You were strolling round the markets when you came across what looked like a Chinese trader. You gave him a nod before asking in Chinese if he had the herb you were looking for. He gave you a shocked grin at your perfect Chinese before passing you a bag of the herbs. You inspected it and gave him a nod before telling him you’d be back with gold for him.
You slowly strolled back to the great hall with a small smile but as you entered the hall to see the brothers now drinking around the fire you smile dropped and you walked past them to Ivar.
“I found the herb but I have nothing to trade for it.” You mumbled awkwardly as you avoided his gaze.
He stood up, making his way to his bedroom, you followed him slowly and as you stood in front of him he passed you a bag of gold coins. You gave him a nod and turned to walk out the room but Ivar’s hand grabbed your hand spinning you back around.
“Do you truly believe the Gods sent here to love me?” He asked quietly as he locked his eyes into yours.
“Yes. I feel a connection to you. I feel so calm when I am near you.” You answered him, his hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch involuntarily.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I find it hard to believe you have never loved a man.” He chuckled as if the thought was ridiculous.
“I have spent my life travelling I have never even bed a man before.” You muttered shyly as you averted your eyes from his now wide ones.
Ivar nodded and released you so you quickly ran back to the market and received the herbs. Hopefully this worked because even if it was not you he chose to bed you hoped it would make him happy. His happiness was your only concern right now.
Once you returned you passed the herbs to Ivar who looked at them with a raised brow. His brothers came over to the throne and gave there brother a sign to hurry up. You nodded at Ivar as you took the bag from him.
You took the meat leg in Ubbe hand with a cheeky smile before ripping off a piece of meet and coating it with green herbs. You picked up the coated meat and passed it to Ivar.
“It called Yin Yang Hou. It’s a Chinese herb.” You stated as Ivar threw in his mouth nervously. You waited for what felt like years but really it was only 20 minutes before Ivar’s eyes widened.
“It works.” Ivar laughed as he stood up.
“Yes we can see that.” Ubbe laughed as you all looked at his noticeable erection.
“Very clearly.” You giggled as you looked at his size through his pants.
Ivar hobbled over to you with a smile before he pulled you in for what felt like a hug from a lover. One hand was in your hair while the other was very low on your back. You actually felt his hardened member pressed against your stomach as he held you.
“Thank you.” He whispered in your ear before stepping back.
“So who shall I bring to your room?” Ubbe asked joyfully as he patted his brother back.
“No one.” Ivar answered and your eyes shot to his.
“But you are finally able to bed a woman.” Hvitserk laughed evenly as he frowned at Ivar.
“Y/N would you excuse us for a moment.” Ivar spoke, you gave him a nod before leaving the Greta hall and waiting outside. Ivar watched as you walked out before turning to his brothers with a smile.
“You’re going to bed her aren’t you?” Bjorn snorted with an approving nod.
“No I am going to make her my wife.” Ivar grinned and his brothers laughed and congratulated him.
******
Later that night there was a meeting called by Ivar, saying everyone must attend. You were already by Ivar’s side as everyone started pouring into the great hall with chatter. You could here people asking each other if they knew what was going on but no one seemed to know except Ivar and his brothers.
Ivar stood up and everyone stopped talking, listening to whatever he was about to say. You bowed you head in respect before lifting it to watch him address his people.
“I have brought you all here to inform you I have found a woman that I wish to make queen.” You stomach dropped as the words left his mouth. Your heart squeezed painfully as you looked down to hide your tears.
“Her name is Y/N and she is a healer.” Your eyes shot up to him who was staring down at you. The tears that had escaped seemed to shock him and he approached you carefully.
“What is wrong my love?” He asked gently and you wiped your eyes with a smile.
“I thought you were going to marry some random beautiful Princess or something.” You sniffled with a pout and he just laughed before cupping your cheek and leaning down.
When his lips touched yours it was like a million sparks exploding behind your eyes. It felt like the most amazing thing you’d ever felt. It was your first kiss and you wished it would never end. He pulled away to look at his people who were smiling.
“Meet your future Queen of Kattegat!” He cheered heartily before leading you to the queens throne. You blushed as he made you sit down.
If someone would if told you as a year ago that you would one day be a queen you would’ve laughed. Yet here you were with the most beautiful man you’d ever seen holding your hand as he tells you he wishes to marry you.
“I am shocked you wish to marry me my King.” You whispered to him as he laced your finger together.
“Why? You are beautiful, kind and know how to handle my legs among other things.” He smirked as he brought your hand to his lips with a lustful gaze. You flushed under his gaze but gave him a smile to show him you were happy.
“I wish to make a sacrifice to Thor as a thank you to him for leading me to you.” You chuckled happily and he nodded his head in agreement.
“And maybe to Freya so she might bless us with a child.” He added making you giggle returned his nod.
You could not believe everything that had happened and how quickly you fell in love with this man beside you but no matter what you knew your life together would be adventurous and for that you could not wait.
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ystrike1 · 1 year
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You're the Cutest when you're pathetic ~Dru**ed S*x with Co-Dependent Chiaki - By Umekoppe (8.5/10)
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The title says it all. A handsome, codependent yandere barges into our main characters life. He makes it better in every way. He is a devoted and kind boyfriend, who she genuinely loves. Their relationship gradually slides down a slippery slope, towards toxicity and substance abuse. This one is a sad and scary read.
She's the ugly twin.
The fat twin.
The dumb twin.
Aoi stays out of the way. Her sister beat her at everything. She didn’t enjoy her childhood, and now she's a lonely adult. She doesn't get bullied. She gets used and critiqued constantly at work. Her boss does it to push more out of her. She also works for an abusive company in general. She has an office job, but she is severely underpaid. Even more so than her coworkers, because she gets saddled with helping everyone else.
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Chiaki saves her when she's getting harassed on the train. He's been watching her for a while. He sees what she can't see. She's a kind person. She's too kind. He wants her to give that kindness to someone who cares about her, instead of strangers.
Specifically, him.
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Chiaki is a record producer and songwriter. He's the rare kind of artist that makes alot of cash. I like the hint here. Producers are notoriously exploitative. They are literally known worldwide for taking advantage of naive dreams, and discarding artists that are no longer needed. Aoi just thinks he's cool and talented, but nice people don't usually succeed in the music industry.
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He says weird things sometimes, but he is the best boyfriend she has ever had. There's a timeskip. They are a real couple. After two years Chiaki starts to get impatient. He wants Aoi to rely on him more. Aoi is pretty uncomfortable with being spoiled though, even after two years of gentle love.
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Gentle love didn’t work. Aoi still sees herself as an unworthy, lucky person. Chiaki choosing to date her is a miracle in her opinion. She can't see why he was attracted to her kindness. He is naturally colder. Aoi is, despite all of her insecurity, a kind and hardworking person. That's even more admirable than it usually would be in this case, because Aoi isn't popular or successful. She's a kind and caring girlfriend, even though her life is hard.
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Chiaki starts to push. He wants to live together. They're in an apartment now, but he has money. He wants a big house and privacy. He wants Aoi to quit her job and marry him. He is a rich man, and she hates her job anyway.
It's a win for both of them.
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Aoi starts to get conceited. One of her coworkers has been using her as an errand girl. That coworker lost her boyfriend of four years, and she's been bumming around mixer parties looking for a new one. A handsome rich one. A guy like Chiaki. Aoi looks down on her, and she thinks she'll be ok no matter what, because she has a capable man.
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She freaks out. She doesn't like what she sees inside herself. She doesn't want to live off Chiaki's money. She wants to value him as a partner, because he treats her so well. She doesn't want to waste her time being angry at coworkers. She doesn't want to hate her life.
She wants to be good.
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Chiaki has been doing his best to get what he wants. He knows how to put on a show, and he loves Aoi very much. When a cute fangirl starts following him he handles it in seconds. He shows Aoi how capable he is whenever he can. He thought being the perfect boyfriend would be enough.
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....but now Aoi wants space. She wants a career. She doesn't want her only accomplishment to be dating a rich guy. She wants to feel proud of HERSELF. It doesn't matter if Chiaki praises her daily. She needs to love herself too.
He kidnaps her(?). They move into his dream house after he manipulates her. He tells her he's not nice, and he loves her very much. She quits her job, and she becomes a wife that doesn't go out much. Someone who exists to be loved by her husband.
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theemporium · 1 year
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Could I possibly request a number 46 smutty fic with Charles leclerc 👉👈 loved your Daniel fic!!!
thank you, darling!🖤this was meant to be a blurb and became 1.3k but enjoy!!
46. "leave the heels on"
.
It was funny how quickly you could go from hating a person to fucking them. 
Or maybe when it came to Charles Leclerc, it was really fucking realistic. 
Securing a position as a team member in the infamous Scuderia Ferrari quickly out of university wasn’t something you expected to happen, and yet it was just how your life seemed to go. A handful of interviews and silent prayer of thanks for your supervisor pushing you to take up Italian classes to improve your resume, you found yourself working with one of the biggest and most historical teams in motorsport history. 
And eighteen months after joining the team, you finally got upgraded to join the team as they travelled from city to city with each and every race. 
That was how you came to learn that you and Ferrari’s golden boy did not get along. 
At all. 
The team found it endearing: the quarrels and arguments, the scoffs and eye rolling, the fact neither of you could stand to be alone with each other for longer than two minutes but always found your way next to each other. 
You found it to be the biggest pain in your ass. 
But being a part of the Scuderia Ferrari team meant more than late meetings and travelling the world. It also meant fancy events and over-the-top galas you were constantly having to show your face at. 
Deep down, you hated them. The dressing up in pretty dresses and glam makeup was fun the first few times, but now it just felt like a chore—all for you to stand around the bar abusing the no-limit drinks and get through a handful of awkward conversations when most people at these events just wanted to talk to the drivers themselves.
“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t look so sad.” 
The accent was thick and very Italian, the smile was something quite like charm and mischief and you were pretty sure he was just a guest. But hey, the gorgeous man in the three piece suit seemed like a far better way to kill your time than sitting at the bar alone. 
“What are you gonna do about it, handsome?”
But what you didn’t seem to notice was the piercing eyes of Ferrari’s number one trophy glaring at you from across the room. 
Now, Charles wasn’t stupid. 
Did you irritate him beyond measure? Yes. 
Did you make him want to rip his own hair out? Also yes. 
But were you also one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen in his life? Unfortunately, yes. 
Maybe that was why it pissed him off so much, why you pissed him off so much, because half the time he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell you to fuck off or to just fuck you. He was left in some weird internal battle that drove him crazy, and usually you were the person on the receiving end of his shitty moods and snide remarks. 
And whilst the driver knew you were in no way, shape or form his, it didn’t stop the burning bitter feeling bubbling in his stomach. It didn’t stop him from downing the rest of the overpaid champagne in his flute and slamming the glass down with little care. And it did nothing to stop him from striding across the room towards you and the mystery man who was all over you, giving you little chance to say anything before he was tugging at your hand and pulling you towards the valet. 
Hissed sneers and bitter words were passed between you, which quickly became hard, sloppy kisses and wandering hands underneath clothing. In some daze of lust, want and anger, you had made it to an apartment—undoubtedly his apartment—and despite your racing heart and the voice in your head screaming this was a bad idea, you didn’t want to stop. 
“Leave them,” his voice was rough and a little husky, matching the darkened look in his eyes as he watched you from the end of the bed. Your dress was pooled at his feet, your hair was sprawled out around you from where you laid on his bed and your hand fell back to your side when he spoke. 
“Leave what?” you asked because you were a little shit, because you wanted to hear him say it. Your body hummed and sang to reach out, to touch him and undo the buttons and see the skin you caught glimpses of during race weekends. But your ego was winning out. 
“Leave the heels on, cherie,” he muttered as he shrugged off his jacket, tugging at the stupid bowtie he was forced to wear and shedding off his shirt as effortlessly as a drunk man trying to restrain himself could. 
“This some weird kink of yours, Leclerc?” you commented teasingly, watching with your painted lips tucked between your teeth as his shirt fell to the floor, his belt following and the unbuttoned trousers he had yet to take off tempting you. 
“Acting like you don’t like it?” he retorted, grinning a little at the way you fell silent as his fingers glided over your heels, along your calves and up your thighs until you were spread for him. 
“Are you going to do anything or just stare?” you muttered, your voice a little breathier than you would have liked. “I had a willing partner before you dragged me off, Leclerc, it would be a shame for this night to be a disappointing performance from you.” 
His eyes gleamed with the challenge. “Pick a number.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“Pick a number,” he repeated, hooded eyes falling to the apex of your thighs as his hand reached out towards you, his thumb pressing against your clothed clit. 
Your breath shuddered. “Four.” 
“Four,” he hummed with a low chuckle, one that felt mocking and twisted but still made the coil in your lower stomach tighten. “Such a low number, not very ambitious.” 
Four. 
Fucking four. 
As it came to be, that would be the number that haunted you for the rest of the night in the best way possible. Whatever snarky remarks or digs you took at Charles, they would quickly fall flat when the boy had you shaking and moaning and begging, when he had you so fucked out that you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about stupid rivalries or the teasing comments. You just wanted him. 
“Please, please, please,” your cries muffled against the pillows, your hands clutching the sheets of the bed and your body jerking with every thrust of hips. “I-I can’t—”
“Can’t what?” Charles hissed between clenched teeth, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips so hard that you knew there would be bruises in the morning but you didn’t care. Not when his cock was hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even realised made you feel this good. “Can’t give me one more, baby? You’ve already been so greedy, already came five times.” 
You choked out a sob, one hand reaching back for him. “Charles–”
“Shhh,” he cooed mockingly as he reached towards you, your body pressed against his chest and his hands on your hips guiding you back onto his cock. “You sound much less annoying when you’re moaning my name, cherie.” 
“Fuck,” you hissed, eyes clenched shut as your head lulled back to rest on his shoulder as his fingers brushed against your swollen clit. “Charles, I can’t anymore, I-I can’t—”
“One more for me, baby, one more,” his lustful words slurring together as you clenched around him, a sound deep and guttural escaping his mouth as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “Shit, so good for me.” 
Maybe fucking someone you hated was easier than either of you thought.
And maybe it was going to become a more recurring incident than either of you ever considered.
.
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Imagine Dancing Under the Star With Vash
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Vash the Stampede X FemReader
Rating: T
Warnings: Angst, Suggestive themes
Word Count: 1.2k
(A/N:) SOMEBODY GIVE THIS MAN A HUG! Man I know I have wrote a couple things for Nicholas but I can’t deny Vash is a looker to. But man I want to hug him and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him ever! Poor thing! So this is me trying to give this handsome weirdo the comfort he needs! Enjoy and until next time happy reading! ~Countess
When you had gone to bed laying under the stars and glow of worms, Vash had been right next to you. You slept easier with him by your side not only because of the protection but the warmth as well. You rolled over expecting to find his form but nothing but cooling rock met your wondering hands. Sitting up and blinking sleepily you called out quietly with no answer. You gave him a few moments to return but grew frustrated when no sign of him even appeared. You liked your sleep and you liked being warm while sleeping, so you couldn’t help but be a little grumpy by the blond’s disappearance.
He’d been ran out of another town while the people cursed his very name. Vash liked to act that he was used to this sort of treatment and it didn’t bother him but you knew, it hurt him every time, despite him trying to hide it. You stuck close by never willing to leave his side, especially after these moments of receiving animosity from others who he wanted to protect. Vash always means well even though the majority of the time it ends in disaster. 
Wrapping your thin blanket around your shoulders you set out to find him and drag him back to bed. It was cold tonight and you were exhausted. He had found a large mesa for you both to camp out on. It was fairly easy to climb up, but the trek was still exhausting for you. You knew Vash was exhausted himself, but when he was in a state like he is now he’ll keep pushing himself until he drops. It didn’t take long to find him, sitting on the edge with his feet dangling. You blew a stray strand of hair out of your face, ready to do whatever it takes to comfort him. Vash didn’t even look your way when you sat beside him. His bright blue eyes staring vacantly across the land that always seemed to be against him.
“It kinda sucks sleeping without my heater,” you teased after you had given him a few moments of silence in your presence.
“Sorry about that,” he chuckled looking towards you with a sad smile.
“I guess I can forgive you this one time,” you stated before shuffling closer. You draped half the blanket over him before nuzzling into his side. Vash stiffened at first as your body pressed against his before he melted with a sigh.
“Thanks,” he said. You nodded giving him another round of silence before you would press a little further. He needed to talk about it, but that didn’t mean he was not going to be stubborn and hide it with a fake smile. Worms danced around you both, lighting up the night with a bright green flicker. They did freak you out at first until you had grown used to the creatures and now you could say that they were even pretty as they bunched in the sky. You looked back up at Vash watching him hide the tears and forcing them back once more.
“Y’know you can talk to me,” you whispered. “I know you can’t be in a good place right now.”
“It’s fine,” he replied flatly.
You glared at him, “No it’s not fine. Vash, you don’t deserve to be treated that way. No matter what you’re just trying to help!”
“Honestly,” he looked away knowing that you would get mad at him, “I think I hurt more than I help.”
You huffed before elbowing him in the ribs, “If I didn’t love you so much I’d push you off this cliff. You’ve helped me a lot and I’m much better off for it.”
“Yeah,” he said bitterly, “I’ve gotten you shot at, almost killed, and now you get to sleep outside under the worm lit sky.”
“I actually think that wormy sky is really pretty now thanks to you.”
He turned and smiled but you gripped his cheeks causing his lips to pucker.
“Stop it. You don’t have to fake smile for me. It never reaches your eyes,” you released him, “and it breaks my heart.”
“Sorry,” he dropped the smile.
“And stop apologizing!”
“So...,” Vash stopped at your glare. “I get it.”
“I hate it when you’re sad,” you huffed. “It’s like I can never get you to cheer up. You just bounce back like a ball, it’s a little annoying.”
Vash chuckled quietly. “Wanna dance? It’ll make me feel better.”
You were floored by the request and it seemed like you couldn’t get up fast enough. You had become so close to the man they call Stampede and you couldn’t deny feelings were growing deep inside. Your womanly wants couldn’t deny his handsome features despite the goofy attitude. You took his offered hand the warmth of his skin seeping into yours while the cool of the metal tingling against your waist. He hummed a nameless tune while pressing you closer into his chest. You reached up stroking the hair from his eyes and he pressed in further enjoying the gentle touch.
“You have such a handsome face,” you purred.
“Careful you don’t want to stroke my ego too much,” he warned teasingly.
“Please,” you blew a raspberry. “You’re the only man on this forsaken sand pit that needs to get a little bit of an ego. Cause honey you ain’t got one.”
“Hey,” he laughed holding onto you tighter. You squeezed back, just holding him while the sky came alive with the buzz of worm wings. You both didn’t need music, as just swaying to the natural rhythm of the land was enough. Vash had a hint of the smell on him mixed in with his natural musk. You didn’t know how you made it so far without him but when you looked up from his hold to see that genuine smile finally pulling at his lips you felt overjoyed.
“Finally got you to smile for real.” You brushed his cheek once again. Vash leaned down getting closer to you. You searched his face quietly seeking answers to his deepest secrets within the depths. But they were going to be hard to unbury and it would take time, and you were willing to give all the time you needed to discover what makes Vash, Vash. 
Vash leaned closer and you knew exactly what he wanted so you opened yourself to him and he took his chance. His lips started gentle before picking up pace. You moaned into his mouth pulling him closer as the green light painted you both in the night. He pulled away panting gently as you kept a hold on him. You kissed the side of his mouth before pulling away but still keeping a grip on his metal hand.
“Let’s get some sleep you handsome typhoon,” you yawned.
“Your wish is my command,” he bowed comically.
“Good! My wish is to be warm,” you started walking and he followed. “Come on heater the night is a wasting and I am not one to pass up good sleep.”
Vash chuckled again helping to ease you down onto the ground. He followed suit nestling beside you with an arm wrapped around your waist. Your scent comforted him and the feel of you against him brought good memories.
“Goodnight Vash,” you mumbled already falling asleep.
“Goodnight,” he replied waiting a little longer after you succumbed to fall asleep. He wondered what he did to deserve you until he too fell asleep. Maybe time would answer that question for him, but until then he wouldn’t question it much as he was thankful for you.
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starrydixon · 1 year
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Rainstorm
Era: Alexandria Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: None-Specified Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: language, minor angst but a happy ending!!
Summary: After a week full of turmoil, the last thing you needed was a torrential rainstorm passing through Alexandria to worsen your already somber mood. When an unexpected guest appears at your door, you're surprised at just how fast your mood changes for the better.
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The wind howled outside, causing the shutters that decorated the outside of the townhouse to rattle and shake. Heavy rain poured down from the dark gray and angry clouds that covered the blue sky, blocking the sunlight from shining down and making Alexandria seem gloomy and wet. Basically, it was a classic rainy day.
You were curled up on the couch in front of a fire that roared in the fireplace in your living room. A blanket was wrapped around your body like a cocoon, fuzzy socks covered your feet, a new book was perched on your lap, and a cup of steaming tea sat beside you on a coaster. Usually, you loved rainy days, before and after the end of the world. Solely because it gave you an excuse to do nothing but relax with the things that gave you the most comfort. 
This time, however, there was minimal comfort to be felt as the storm outside only brought you more unease and gloom than it usually did. No amount of fuzzy socks or steaming tea could shake the sorrow from your body.
It had been a rough week for you, emotionally and physically. After a distressing argument at the start of the week with Daryl, your best and closest friend since the very beginning of the world-ending apocalypse, you had been working yourself to near exhaustion in an attempt to distract yourself from feeling the pit that sat heavily in your stomach. Whenever you did allow yourself to feel it, it was always a different feeling haunting you: anxiety, anger, sadness, guilt, and everything else in between. 
You knew the argument had been blown out of proportion; starting from something small and then escalating to hurtful words being thrown both ways. It had gotten so heated, that Daryl left Alexandria and hadn’t returned since. You had no idea where he went, maybe going on a hunting trip or visiting the Kingdom to confide with Carol. It worried you to no end, not knowing where he was, but you hoped he was okay; despite how hurt you still felt from his harsh words.
From the moment you first met Daryl, back at the camp stationed in a Georgia quarry, you had been infatuated with him. He was a very handsome man, his broad shoulders and strong build was never lost on you. However, it was his rugged charm, loyalty to the people that he held closest, and the subtle ways he consistently cared for the people around him that made you attracted to the archer. As much as it pained you to stay in the friendzone, you cherished the connection you had with Daryl and didn’t want to ruin it by making a move or confessing your feelings to him.
Knowing that you had fought with the man that you loved and cared so deeply for, and being on the receiving end of the venom that laced his voice, stung more than the tears that pricked and pooled in the waterline of your eyes as you watched him stalk away from you, burning anger in each stride of his legs and stomp of his feet. 
You were snapped out of your thoughts of dejection when abrupt pounding on the front door of your home sounded. The harsh bangs had practically caused you to jump out of your skin, and the book that was once sitting in your lap had fallen to the floor, face down and undoubtedly creasing the pages. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you rose to your feet; all the while staring anxiously at the source of the sudden intrusion. With the heavy downpour, you knew the only reason why someone would venture outside, away from the safety of their home, was to inform you that something was wrong. 
You feared the worst; thinking a large horde of walkers were nearing the community, the walls of Alexandria had fallen apart due to the heavy winds, or that someone had gotten severely hurt. Dread filled your body as you slowly approached the front door. You were trying to prolong whatever nightmare you were about to find yourself in. 
More impatient bangs sounded from the door, so forceful you swore you saw the slab of wood vibrate with each harsh pound of a fist. 
When you opened the front door, just a crack, you were instantly met with bitter cold winds and wet rain that seeped through the sliver of space. As a way to brace yourself from the cold, you tightened your arm around your body more securely before pulling the door open. If your body hadn’t been so tense from bracing the harsh rainstorm that dusted by, you were sure you would have lost some form of balance from the sight you were met with.
Daryl was standing a few steps down the staircase that led to the front door of your townhouse; dark clothes drenched and sticking to his body like glue while his dark strands of hair stuck to his face and neck. Through the curtain of bangs that hung over his eyes, you could see him squinting through the harsh winds and pelting rain.. 
“I fucked up!” The archer shouted over the torrential downpour, his arms outstretched and raised by his sides as if to further emphasize his statement.
You thought he was drunk, high, or at least on something. It was the only way to explain this crazed behavior. Why would he willingly be outside your house, sober, and practically being assaulted by Mother Nature herself, just to talk to you? After the last time you two had spoken, you assumed that the archer wanted nothing to do with you anymore. 
Before you could utter a single syllable, Daryl continued. “I really fucked up, and m’sorry! I shouldn’t of said those things to ya, or treated ya like that! I just-“ 
Loud thunder erupted in the angry sky as a flash of bright lighting struck the air. You both cringed at the disturbance, and Daryl was having a hard time getting out what he wanted-no-needed to say to you. With his confidence momentarily stunted, the archer brought a hand to his face and haphazardly swept away a few sopping strands of hair from his line of vision. His feet shuffled anxiously on the step he was teetering on. 
“I ain’t good with words unless I’m bein’ a dick…but I just wanted to say that—I just-I just love ya, alright!?  Been in love with ya for a real long time, and I know I don’t deserve ya, and—it just hurts sometimes and I act like an asshole because of it!” The weather was unrelenting, so Daryl was still having to strain his voice and shout over the heavy downpour.
You were sure your mouth was opened ajar, although you couldn’t feel it since your whole body was simultaneously numb and burning hot at the same time. With the amount of emotions flooding through you, it was hard to process the admission that Daryl had just professed to you. This resulted in you becoming struck with silence as you stared at the archer with wide eyes. 
Taking your silence as a sign of rejection, Daryl began to descend down the steps with a shake of his head. Embarrassment and shame of his impulsive actions were quickly overcoming him, and he couldn’t stand to look in your eyes anymore. His retreat away from you seemed to snap you out of the stunned haze you were in.
“Daryl!” Without hesitation, you left the safety that your doorway held and leapt into the rainstorm. 
Now at the bottom of the staircase, Daryl spun around when he heard your voice calling after him. The archer had just enough time to brace himself and catch you, just as you jumped into his arms. Instinctively, your arms snaked around his neck, and your lips found his in a haste kiss that ended just before it could start.
As you were beginning to pull away, with heat flushing your cheeks, Daryl’s large hand clasped over the back of your neck and pulled you back into a heated kiss. Daryl wasn’t sure when exactly the urge to kiss you became unavoidably prominent whenever he looked at you, but he knew it’s been for a while; maybe since the days spent on the Greene’s family farm. 
As you kissed until you were both blue in the face with diaphragms aching, there was no rain drenching you, or thunder and lightning cracking through the sky. It was just you and him, letting out all the feelings you’ve both been harboring for the past few years in a searing kiss. 
“I love you too.” You spoke softly, just barely above a whisper, once you had pulled away from him to allow fresh oxygen to fill your lungs. 
With your eyes still shut, you could feel Daryl’s strong chest heave against yours as he caught his breath, and his forehead rest on yours with a gentle press. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, and you had a hard time trying not to laugh at the tingly sensation the touch brought. 
“M’sorry.” Daryl murmured quietly, so quiet you almost missed it due to the rain assailing down on you. “I shouldn’t of-of acted like that, no matter how upset I was…I just-” 
Before he could finish speaking, you quieted him by tightening your arms around his neck and bringing him down to your level so you could replace your lips on his for a short, but meaningful, kiss. “I know…I’m sorry too, for everything.”
The archer’s arms only tightened around your figure more securely as his head shook slightly, almost as if he couldn’t accept or believe in your forgiveness. Reluctantly, you pulled away from him again; this time with just enough space separating you both to be able to look at his face and in his eyes. Regret and blatant sadness filled his gray-blue eyes, and it caused your heartstrings to pull painfully. Removing a hand from off his neck, you cupped one side of his face and swept a few drenched strands of dark hair from off his cheek with your thumb.
“We’re both at fault here…but we can start, whatever this is, with a new slate, y’know?” As you spoke, a smile grew across your face, brightening your features in the process. 
As Daryl let his eyes flicker over your face, admiring the light radiating off of you despite the storm around you, he could feel the rays of your smile warm his body and bring light back to his previously dulled eyes. He felt reassured by your words, convinced that you both could forgive and let this moment be the start of something new and special.
“Yeah…that sounds good.” With a nod of his head, and a smile of his own twitching at the corners of his mouth, Daryl held your face in his hands and pulled you in for another captivating kiss.
You couldn’t help but laugh against the archer’s lips, your arms now wrapped loosely around his neck as you leaned backwards with each laugh that escaped you. It was quite possible that you’d end up with a cold, due to being out in the pouring rain for so long, but that was the last thing on your mind as you continued to kiss the man you’ve been painfully smitten with for a long time. 
From now on, whenever a rainstorm passed through, you knew those feelings of gloom and weariness would be replaced with warmth and elation. You’d think back to this exact moment; kissing Daryl for the first time in the pouring rain, wearing matching smiles that were so bright it threatened to clear the dark clouds in the sky and bring the sun out once again.
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A/N: I’ve always wanted to write the ‘kissing in the rain’ trope, so as soon as this idea struck me, I ran with it! Is it a little cliche? Maybe. But is it cute? Yes. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!! <3
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sudzymactavish · 3 months
Text
TF141 x GN!reader
How they would react to reader getting shot and succumbing to their wounds
TW: Angst, blood, shooting, pleading, crying, suicide being said but not actually done, sad things in general
(Fic under the cut!)
John "Soap" Mactavish
Soap, or rather Johnny, was always a fun guy to be around. He got his work done, made friends with everyone on the team, and was a little silly from time to time.
Then he met you. He always talked your ear off about all the things he's ever done, and more. John was always able to do his work and have strong bonds between him and everyone else. His and your bond was especially strong.
That's why his whole world fell apart when he saw one of Makarov's minions shoot you in the chest, your body falling to the floor. His person. His lover.. well, not yet at least, but who cares.
He quickly got to you as the rest of the team overed you both. John quickly tried to bandage your wound, all while saying "yer okay, don' worry yer okay". The only person he convinced was himself when you started to have trouble breathing.
Then, he and you both knew it was the end. He nor you knew exactly where the bullet was, but it was clear, you were going to die.
Johnny held you, crying as he bear hugged you. He told you how much he loved you and he was sorry, it all coming out in broken English and Scottish.
He held you until the medics came and pronounced you dead. He keeps a picture of you and the 141 underneath his bed in the barracks.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Gaz was always a sarcastic joker, but knew when to be serious. He was a well structured man who knew when and how to get a job done.
Him and the 141 were like brothers, and that didn't change when you arrived, despite one thing; he would smile a bunch when you were around.
Of course, it could've been brushed off as politeness, but you and he both knew that it was more than that. He would always light up when you were there, speaking with care and confidence to you.
It was obvious he cared about you when you had been fatally shot in the neck. The team had split up, and you were alone. You garbled into the radio, and gaz responded "you alright, mate?" With a chuckle. He didn't know what was really going on.
He eventually found you, half dead and clutching your neck to try to stop some of the bleeding. He quickly went to your side, a new seriousness you had only seen on suicide missions. He pressed his hand on your wound to try, just try to save you.
He was crying. He was telling you how much you meant to him as you slowly went limp. You were gone.
He stayed with you until they pronounced you dead. He keeps your favorite album of music that you used to ramble about to him.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon was a quiet man who was always hiding behind a skull mask. He never took it off, (at least besides that one time in MW2 but don't think about that ‼️) keeping himself hidden. A ghost of a man.
No one really knew why he wore it, but they all knew he was still a man under the mask. He was friends with the 141, and nothing was changing that.
When you first arrived, he was skeptical. Dismissing that you were undoubtedly the most (beautiful/handsome/pretty) human being he's ever seen. Eventually, he trusted you more. He talked to you more. He would do little things for you that made you smile, and that's all he wanted to see. He wanted his person to smile.
That all ended, when you were grimacing in pain over a fatal shot at your leg. The bullet hit an artery (for people who don't know, an artery is something that carries a lot of blood. If you get shot in an artery, you bleed out very quickly) and the blood was spilling fast. Ghost was turned from you, not seeing you fall. After you hit the ground, the blood was going fast. It stained your combat boots and pants, you trying to press on the wound. The puddle of blood grew and grew, ghost accidentally stepping in it.
He actually thought he was bleeding, until he saw you. He shouted "cover me! Soldier (your name) down!" He went next to you, covering your wound with pressure.
When you listened hard enough, you could hear small hics and saw small tears wet his balaclava. You reached your hand out to his face, slowly lifting the hard mask, then him following your action with taking off the balaclava. You saw his face, for the first time.
He pressed your hand to his lips, muttering a soft "I love you, soldier.." you were dead moments later. He did not let go of you until they forced him to. He keeps your dog tags around his neck.
John Price
John was a soft man, but knew when to get rough. He was best friends with his team, even joking that they were his sons. He knew how to get a job done while making sure everyone was slightly safe, or at least careful. (He kinda failed with soap..)
When you came, he was always patting you on the back or ruffling your hair. He was always cheery, smiling and offering you cuppas. He knew it was so wrong to love you, a person a part of his team, so he kept his distance. But was just close enough to give off the elusion that you and him were best pals and nothing more. You and him both wished it was more.
When you got shot in your shoulder, he of course was worried, but thought it was nothing. That changed drastically when you had gotten a life threatening infection. Well.. it only changed when you had passed out while training. Price took you to medical, learning the truth about what that one little bullet did.
He was so angry. In so much pain. While you laid in medical, he went to go find the man who shot you. Laswell advised against it, saying that price wasn't thinking straight. He wasn't. But he still went along with the mission, eventually having to go solo.
Before he left, he told you how much he loved you and he would be back soon. You confessed you liked him back. He left, happy, but ready to rip that man to shreds with his bear hands if he had to.
The mission was successful, and he came back to your room, only seeing your dog tags on the bed. The nurse said you had passed the minute he got here. You waited.. for him.
As the captain, he wasn't allowed to take a leave. So, he now sits in his office. He reads your papers over and over, seeing your face one last time on the papers.
I am exhausted. Hope you enjoy this! Not proof read btw.
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