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#spy!reader
glittergoblinzz · 1 month
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Rats
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Pairing - Vladimir Makarov x Spy!Reader x Yuri Volkov
((Translation: Мой маленький = My little wolf))
❗CWs: Reader is AFAB, dub-con, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Smut, p in v sex, oral (male receiving), kidnapping, slight breeding kink if you really squint....18+ MDNI❗
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Reader who's part of Task Force 141 and gets sent to infiltrate Vladimir Makarov's ranks within the Inner Circle in order to get close to him and gather Intel on him
Reader who spends well over a year undercover within Makarov's Inner Circle, slowly getting closer and closer to the Ultranationalist
Reader who believes everything is going smoothly until Makarov confronts them out of the blue one day.....
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
The cold, hard muzzle of the gun presses up against your chin as Makarov stares deeply into your eyes...
"You wouldn't ever betray me, right Мой маленький волк?"
Makarov's calm, cold voice echoed through the room as he looked down on you. All you could do was shake your head a little as you replied to him...
"No, Sir. Never. I'm completely loyal to you...."
Makarov only stares you down for a few more moments before pulling the gun away and putting it back into its holster.
"Good....you'll have enough to prove your loyalty to me soon enough. Now be a good dog and come."
He doesn't say anything else before turning and leaving the room, expecting you to follow. You do, which you would later regret if you knew what was about to happen.
The Russian terrorist leads you out of the room and down a couple corridors within the compound before arriving at his private quarters. He opens the door and lets you in first. The first thing you notice in the room is the fact that Yuri, Vladimir's right hand, is there. That wouldn't have surprised you if it wasn't for the fact that Yuri had a smug look on his face as you walked in.
The moment you go into the room, Makarov follows you in and locks the door behind you. Your heart races as he approaches you from behind and Yuri approaches you from the front. You feel Makarov's hands grab a hold of your hips as he pulls you in close to him. He leans his head down, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispers to you.
"You said you were loyal to me, yes? Let's see just how loyal you are..."
Makarov's hand slides underneath the hem of your shirt, moving up to your chest and grasping one of your breasts while the other stays on your hip. Your eyes widen as Makarov starts to fondle you. Every reasonable voice in your head is telling you to stop him, to get away...but your body is enjoying the way he gently kneads your breast and pinches your nipple too much.
Makarov leans down more and presses his lips against the side of your neck. He starts to kiss your neck and nip at the skin just hard enough to break it, causing a little bit of blood to emerge. The mix of pain and pleasure ripples through your body and you can't help but let out a small moan as Makarov continues to fondle your breast with one hand and attack your neck with his mouth at the same time.
This continues for a moment before Makarov's other hand that's still on your hip slides down under your pants. His fingers glide under your panties and reach your already slickened folds. He gives a little chuckle as he pulls away from your neck and moves back to your ear, gently nibbling on it.
"Ah, is Мой маленький волк already wet? I guess you were more eager to show your loyalty to me than I had anticipated..."
Makarov then proceeds to run his index finger over your swollen, sensitive nub, earning a moan from you. He keeps rubbing in small, circular motions as he enjoys the sounds of pleasure you're making. Yuri watches on, palming himself through his military fatigues as Makarov assaults your breast and clit.
Eventually Makarov gets tired of this and removes his hands from your body. You think that this was all he wanted but oh how wrong you were. The Inner Circle leader proceeds to tug at your uniform top until it rips, revealing your scarred torso that's now only covered by your bra. Makarov takes note of the scars on your torso, gently tracing over some of them with his finger before removing your bra and then your pants, leaving you completely naked in front of the two Russian men.
"Now we're really going to test your loyalty to me, Мой маленький волк. Yura, come."
Yuri does just that as Makarov leads you over to the bed in his private quarters, bending you over the side of it. Yuri stands at one side of the bed, right across from your face as Makarov stands on the other side, right behind your raised ass. The men look at each other before looking back down on you. You hear the sound of their pants rustling as they get their cocks out, not bothering to remove their clothing at all.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize that these men are about to take you, the thought both terrifying and exciting you at the same time. Makarov takes his thick, veiny cock and slowly slides it up and down your slick folds, getting his member all nice and wet before he takes you.
Yuri, on the other hand, gets up on the bed and kneels down in front of you so he can properly position himself in front of your mouth. Makarov is still sliding his cock up and down between the folds of your wet cunt before he suddenly pushes himself into you without warning.
Your eyes widen and your mouth opens wide in shock. Yuri takes this opportunity and slides his cock into your mouth, causing your gag reflexes to flare up. Makarov grips your hips, the soft and plump flesh spilling out from between his fingers as he holds onto you while he thrusts into your cunt.
Yuri grabs a fist full of your hair to keep your head in place as he starts moving his hips. He's a bit more gentler than Makarov with his thrusting but not by much. His big, tight balls slapping against your chin as he fucks your mouth. Yuri lets out a soft groan of pleasure as you suck him off.
You grip the bed sheets as Makarov continues to relentlessly pound into you, stretching you out as he takes you. The only sounds that can be heard are the soft grunts coming from the men and the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin as the men continue to fuck you. Yuri pulls out from your mouth for a moment to get you a moment to breathe but also so he and Makarov can hear your little mewls and moans.
Makarov lets out a soft grunt as he feels your gummy walls start to clamp around him as you start getting closer to your climax so he takes one of his hands off your hips and reaches around to start rubbing your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. The only sounds you can make a little whimpers and moans as Makarov continues to take you. Hearing your cries of pleasure only makes the Russian take you harder, his hips slamming into your ass at a more brutal pace.
Yuri doesn't bother putting himself back into your mouth as he and Makarov are enjoying the sounds you're making way too much. Instead, he fists himself and starts jerking off to the sight of Makarov fucking you. Seeing Makarov's face contorted into one of pleasure and the sounds of your moans and whimpers cause Yuri to let out moans of his own.
It doesn't take long for you to finally come, your pussy clamping around Makarov's cock as your body trembles from the immense pleasure. Makarov rubs your clit faster and fucks you through your orgasm before finally reaching his. He closes his eyes and lets out a low moan, his pace slowing some as he reaches his own orgasm. His cock twitches and throbs inside you as it shoots thick white ropes of his seed deep into you.
Makarov, breathing heavily, opens his eyes and sees Yuri still jerking off. His body shaking and twitching as if he's close himself. The Russian pulls out from you and reaches over, placing his hand on the one Yuri is using to grab your hair with.
"That's it, Yura. Give them a nice reward for demonstrating their loyalty to me."
The feeling of Makarov's hand on his and the sound of him talking so softly to him sends Yuri over the edge. Yuri grunts one last time and sprays his load all over your pretty face. You stay there, still bent over on the bed with Yuri's cum on your face and Makarov's dripping out of your swollen, spent cunt.
Makarov runs his thumb over Yuri's hand for just a second before letting go and getting off of you. Both men proceed stuff their now flaccid cocks back into their pants and zip themselves up.
The men help clean you up, or at least Yuri cleans you up...Makarov simply watches. There was already a new uniform waiting for you, which you didn't think much of until Makarov walks over to you and grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
"You really thought you would have gotten away with it, Мой маленький? Price is even more of a fool than I thought if he seriously believed you could pass as one of my own..."
Your heart stops as you realize you've been caught. Your cover blown. All you can do is just stare up at Makarov, your eyes wide with fear. You expect him to pull out his gun and end you, or have Yuri do it. Unfortunately, no, the Russian Ultranationalist has other plans for you....
"You'll be very useful for me and Yuri. You can give us something we wouldn't be able to get ourselves...so we'll be keeping you for quite a while."
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starstruckwillows · 1 year
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♡ o'children - r.l ♡
starstruckwillows 🂱
requested by @flamey-0 💗
platonic!remus lupin x reader, hurt/comfort, slytherin!reader, spy!reader, suggestions of torture, description of pain and tiredness, mention of throwing up
dumbledore and his child army
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your face was harrowed and slightly sunken, skin clinging to the bones as you folded your arms around yourself, trembling all over.
stumbling back from the kitchen door, the weasley twins raised their wands, shouting for everyone to come downstairs now.
a deatheater was on the premises.
the tears choked you as you shook your head, sinking to your knees and rolling your wand across the ground as a sign of peace.
"no, m'not." was all you could manage through your split lip and aching exhaustion.
as the walls of the room swirled into patterns through your dazed eyes, you vaguely registered your cheek pressed onto the chilling floor before you were gone.
waking later that evening to find yourself in a bed was no easy task. peeling your eyelids open made your jaw clench to prevent from screaming.
the transition from laying to sitting felt like playing drums on your spinal cord.
you noticed remus lupin, your defence against the dark arts professor from sixth year, observing you from the corner. assigned to keep watch.
"how did you get in here?" the question was hard and unsympathetic.
why wouldn't it be? they think you kill muggles and muggleborns and support you-know-who.
the thought of him sent a ripple effect over your body. fast breathing, heart dropping, hands shaking, his icy cold stare forever embedded into your mind, the feel of his inhuman fingers gripping your shoulder.
"dumbledore told me."
lupin raised his brows, "dumbledore told you. a deatheater."
you winced harshly at the word, the violent reaction causing blood from your broken lip to slide down your chin.
"i'm not a deatheater," you all but sobbed.
the man approached you without fear. probably because your wand was nowhere in sight and you didn't look like you were in a state to punch. he grabbed your arm none too gently and pulled your sleeve back.
the grotesque snake writhing across your skin made you cry out, tugging it back to your chest as you shook your head.
"stop, stop."
you didn't look up at your old professor, afraid to see disappointment. everyone you knew from your old life was either disappointed or terrified now. it made you want to throw up.
it was two days into solitary confinement, during which someone stayed posted outside your door at all times, and the house elf kreacher brought in your food. he seemed to like you, at least. for all the wrong reasons.
two days before dumbledore sent back a letter confirming you were a spy, and it was he who had asked you to become a deatheater in the first place. he made a loose comment on your bravery and said you should be treated with care, as if you had returned to grimmauld place, it likely meant you had been found out.
he was correct.
even though you were allowed to leave your new room now, you didn't. the other order members brought your food now, trying to coax conversation from you, but you did not reciprocate.
over the course of a week, you wrote down everything you'd discovered in your eight months as a deatheater. that information was then passed along, and you didn't try to communicate past that.
everytime you wanted to speak, you could only remember the desperate croak of your voice as you begged a masked deatheater to stop. to stop with his crucio and assorted spells you couldn't even remember.
pathetic. weak. dumb.
"may i come in?"
you recognized this as remus lupin, now, and you said he could. if he heard you or not was a different matter, but he entered the room and cautiously took a seat on the chair before you.
"i apologize for my accusations when you first arrived."
you shrugged. he had to do his job, but that sentence seemed too long to speak without breaking down.
he continued, "what you've done for the order was incredibly brave. you'll never be thanked enough for what you've gone through to get us the intel we have now."
hearing him say that, whether true or not, you had made a difference, you had done something to aid the war efforts, it almost made it seem worth it.
the silence covered the room as you felt your old professor scan you. everyone else had pity rolling off of them in waves when they came to see you. lupin had something else.
"when i was your age, during the first war, i had to go undercover too."
that made you look up, at least. listening.
"i'm sure you're aware by now of my... lycanthropy."
there had been rumours, when he left. you weren't sure they were true at the time.
"dumbledore asked me to go into the ranks of you-know-who's werewolfs. to the root of all my problems, the one who turned me, ones who'd eaten people i knew, the ones who would never touch a drop of wolfsbane because they liked it. they liked the power of being a monster. i lived with them for a year."
tears welled in your eyes. angry tears. how dare dumbledore ask such a thing of professor lupin? how dare he ask such a thing of you?
how dare he?
you pinched the bridge of your nose, "so he's on his third generation of child soldiers."
remus lupin surveyed you warily, and you knew he was questioning your loyalty. he wanted to tell you to trust dumbledore, but how could he do that? how could he do that when you had trusted the man and ended up here?
"dumbledore is a man burdened with too much knowledge-"
you finished his sentence for him, "and not enough empathy?"
lupin sighed, and in true gryffindor manner decided to ask you straight out, "are you still loyal to the order?"
you didn't respond for a moment. initally, you felt the white hot iron of anger squeeze your heart - after what you'd sacrificed, he dared doubt you? then, though, you understood. maybe he thought the deatheaters had slightly entranced you with the notion of selfishness.
but at the end of a day, one subtle tyrant to one unsubtle tyrant, your choice was clear.
you'd follow the one not murdering and torturing, and trying to commit a cleanse of muggles and their magic children.
"do you ask because i'm a slytherin?"
"no. maybe. it's not unreasonable to assume years of isolation from your peers based on your house wouldn't ignite anger. i imagine being branded now won't help that either."
you shrugged, and it sent electrical pain throughout your body, "you're right. but no amount of bullying or intolerance could make me become one of them."
lupin pressed on, "most extremists don't start as extremists, indoctrination works on those made vulnerable by years of separation and abandonment."
"that may be so, but it hasn't happened here and it won't happen here."
he stopped. he was convinced. and a part of him was seething.
"i am sorry for what you went through."
"many people have suffered for the order. i won't be the last."
"someone will."
you understood what he meant. someone will be the last to suffer because you will win the war.
"i see that."
"good."
he gave you space then. but you heard him linger outside your door for a few minutes, and were unsurprised when he re-entered the room.
with a sigh, "you may be right about dumbledore, i don't know. but what i do know is nothing can take away from the bravery of what you did, and nothing can take away from the fact you were part of this war effort, a massive part. you've prevented hundreds of deaths and kidnappings. thank you."
there wasn't much to say, but you hoped he saw your appreciation in your face.
hey little train, wait for me. i once was blind but now i see.
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taglist:
@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly
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That’s Classified 💄 | Everett Ross Imagine
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Marvel Masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Everett Ross x spy!reader (slight romantic/tension)
Content Warnings: profanity, flirtatious banter, mentions of violence | Female!reader—no use of Y/n but she/her pronouns | Wc: less than 2k
Premise: To collect intel from a spy who’s a literal ghost, Agent Everett Ross has to get out of his comfort zone with what she has in store for him.
Note: this song has been popular again due to tiktok and all the Zoolander memes and it’s giving me inspiration for a Everett with a spy who’s a baddie - Bee 🐝
———————————————
It was a bad idea…….
Agent Everett Ross was never a fan of meet ups and intel swaps being in crowded areas where watching surroundings was difficult due to chaos around. He preferred them at coffee shops and fancy restaurants. That way he could get in and out and make it look like two friends meeting up during their break or end of work day.
Clubs did not offer that simplicity.
Sweaty bodies against each other and music so loud it was just vibration to one’s ear brought complications in most cases. How could two agents discuss when they are having to yell in each other’s ear. Doing that could easily have information in the wrong hands.
So one could imagine Ross’ unease when his superior informed him he’d be going to a place called, “Eros’ Sanctuary,” that turned to be a club. Such a fitting name given the vibes were geared toward Greek mythology.
Paying the cover fee with a frown, the bouncer pulled back the velvet rope and allowed the agent through. He hated being unarmed in case something were to happen, but they had to pat him down and walk through a metal detector. So Everett made it his mission to get in, get what was needed, and get the hell out. Hopefully within an hour or less.
‘She’ll be the one in red. You’ll know when you see her,’ he read the text over again, engraving it to memory. What the hell kind of warning was that? This was a night club. Most of the people in attendance were wearing variations of red. Especially since the color palette of the place was red, black, and gold.
Sighing, Everett makes his way to the bar to get a glass of water. And sure enough, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he noticed a woman in a red dress sitting at the bar. ‘This is gonna be fun,’ he thought as he signaled the bar tender. “Just a glass of water, please.” The guy nodded, gathering some ice in a plastic cup before filling it with water and placing it on a napkin in front of Everett.
When the guy walked away to attend to other customers, Everett heard a chuckle from the lady, who’s face was hidden behind a book.
That’s odd…who would bring a book to a night club? Surely the music was way to loud for her to concentrate.
He had just read the title of the novel, ‘The Spy Who Came in From The Cold,’ by John le Carré, when she spoke.
“On the clock?”
Everett tilted his head in confusion, “I’m sorry?” He watched as she closed the book, allowing her face to come into view before setting it face up on the surface of the bar. Everett nearly faltered. She was stunning, with lips painted the same color as her outfit—which no doubt looked designer to go with the shiny Rolex on her wrist and diamond choker to match her earrings.
“I asked if you’re on the clock?” She repeated with a smirk. When it appeared that he still didn’t get it the woman continued. “You come here, alone, and order just a glass of water—surely because you know it’s not appropriate to be under the influence given you are here for work and not pleasure.” He didn’t know how she knew that. Now the agent was suspicious of the beautiful woman.
“You’re wearing a 5-piece suit,” she gives him a look over before gesturing her head to the side, “And if you notice in the VIP section the men there are wearing the same, but like you they are here to do business, not enjoy the entertainment of the dancers or girls throwing themselves at them. Everyone here who wants to have a good time is wearing clothing fit for a night club.”
She leans closer a tad, Everett feeling a bit flustered by the proximity. “In the thirty seconds it took for the bartender to make your ice water you checked your phone three times and checked your surroundings twice that—as though you are in search of something….or someone.” He swore his heart skipped. She had to be the person he was to meet. The look on his face must’ve told her what he was thinking because she smirked and confirmed Everett’s suspicion, “Particularly a woman in red?”
Finding his voice, the agent took a step back to give them a few inches of space but enough for her to hear him over the music. “So you’re the one?”
“Am I?” She challenged, withdrawing a cigarette from a metal tin. Everett raised a brow, glancing at the ‘No Smoking’ sign that was literally behind the bar. The bartender didn’t even react as she lit the tobacco and leaned back in her chair. “What all have you heard, Silver Fox?”
Everett had to hold back a reaction at the nickname. “You sure you wanna discuss this right here. In the open?” She didn’t even seem fazed.
“I know when I have eyes on me, agent,” she smirked at the way he had to look over his shoulder at anyone who could’ve heard the title. She already had made it known there were men doing business not too far away. What kind of business? He had no idea, but the last thing he needed was his cover to be blown. “Like how I had your eyes on me as you approached this bar.” Now she got him, the man blushing at the fact he was caught.
“Well, you’re wearing red,” he pointed out the obvious. “And that was the only information I was given.”
“Keep telling yourself that, hot stuff,” she winked, bringing the cigarette to her mouth again.
Feeling warm, Everett adjusted the collar of his dress shirt, taking another glance around the club for prying eyes. It must’ve amused the spy, for she just gave a look that read, ‘Are you done?’
“Do you have it?”
“Have what?”
Now he was glaring, “I don’t have time for this, Miss….whoever you are.” That was the thing he read about in her file. Well if one could call it a file. It was literally blank. When asked what was the reason for her information/records erased, the answer he was given was, “She’s part of a retired operative program we used to fund. Those involved had their files wiped so they are completely under the grid. Ghosts, is the best word to describe them. They only make contact when necessary.”
So no name. No background. No identity.
She was a living ghost that walked the Earth.
Everett didn’t understand why now all of a sudden she was brought back into the light. But it must’ve been important because his boss was on the verge of a mental breakdown if they didn’t get whatever intel she had gathered. Whatever it was crucial to the agency and their allies. Quite possible could be the make or break of a possible World War.
“I don’t wanna be here longer than I have to. The deal was you give up whatever I need to have on me when I leave this place, and you get whatever was promised by Fontaine.”
“Aren’t you a peach, Agent Ross,” she laughed, not dismayed by his attitude. Obviously she’s had to deal with worse in her career—even her life. His blood ran cold at the fact she knew his name.
“You know about me?”
“Of course I do,” she tapped the cigarette against her compact astray. “You don’t think I do my research before I meet with potential enemies or allies. I know all about you, former Air Force pilot Everett K. Ross turned agent of the Central Intelligence Agency,” again Ross had to look around the club, “—including the fact you’re recently divorced from CIA Director, Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.” She watched his face fall at the mention of his ex-wife. “You’re also quite close to the royal family of Wakanda—but your peers at the CIA do not know, do they?” Thank God he wasn’t wearing a comm, it would’ve been too noticiable when going through security.
“What are you doing?” He questioned with a slight edge to his tone, willing himself to remain composed.
“My job,” she leaned forward, keeping the flirtatious smile on her lips. “You made the mistake of coming here in a suit. Now those guys I told you about probably think you’re here for matters other than trying to find a lady to warm your bed.” He blushed again, not liking the way his body was feeling when she brushed a finger against his tie. “And you ordered water, a tell tale sign you came here to remain sober,” she brought her half drank glance of whiskey to her lips, Ross noticing it for the first time.
“I’m trying to help you, Agent Ross,” her mouth moves closer to his ear, “you need to make it look like you’re here for another motive. Get them off your trail before they become too suspicious of you given this is your first time here and those guys are in that booth every weekend. They will figure it out if you don’t start putting on an Oscar worthy performance.” She places a hand on his chest, the other going to the back of his neck. “Put your hand on my lower back.” That had alarm bells go off in his head
“Why—?”
“Just do it now before the guy approaching the bar sees us.” Quickly his hand goes to her back, flinching when it makes contact with her skin. Now he remembered her dress had an open back, the material falling low just above her ass. God he must’ve looked ridiculous by his flustered state. Here he was with a beautiful woman in his arms having to make it look like they were about to make out right there.
“What I’m about to tell you cannot be repeated,” she keeps her mouth to his ear, feeling tighten his hold. “Promise me, Everett. I know you are hesitant to trust me—wouldn’t put it past Fontaine to warn you off about me and what I do, but there are things bigger than you and I happening around us so I need your word.”
Everett, feeling bold, starting lightly stroking his hand against her skin. “You have it.”
“I cannot say much for fear of it getting into the wrong hands, but you seem like a genuine man. And if what I read about you is true, then you would do anything to do the right thing even if it costs you.” She pulled away slightly to offer a light kiss to his cheek, mostly due to the fact the man in the suit was ordering a round and had eyed them.
“Fontaine’s got a little secret,” she felt him stiffen. “One I uncovered on my last assignment. One she wants to get rid of by offering me a very generous amount of money to hand over along with anything else I ask for. Did you ever notice a change in her behavior when she debriefed you?”
Everett thought for a moment, thinking back to hours before when he was in the meeting with Val and some other high ups in the agency. She seemed to be in distress, checking her phone and email every few minutes and questioning if they had heard anything new. “She seemed a bit more on edge than usually.”
“That’s because she’s scared of what I can do with this information. She knows if it gets out it’s all over for her,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, lightly swaying them to the music. “Ever since the Blip she’s has been scheming, plotting, gathering those she needs to get the work done.”
“What work?” Everette muttered, moving against her as she led them in a dance. “Who?”
“Everything you ought to know will be with you when we part ways tonight,” she assured. “You better come up though with an excuse as to why I didn’t give you it. Say I betrayed you—that I didn’t show up. Fontaine already gave me what I want so it would be believable. Don’t let her be suspicious of you when you do. Otherwise you could find yourself arrested for treason when the one who belongs behind bars is her.”
As though all the blood had drained from him, Everett tried to keep steady by what she was telling him. While part of him screamed to be suspicious, there was a deep feeling in his gut that she was being truthful. That Val was corrupt. It made the situation take a different turn with Everett’s mind racing on what to do. How the hell was he supposed to approach the subject when he was to meet with Val that night to hand over whatever it was the spy obtained.
“Don’t look to stiff, Ev,” she pulled him from his thoughts, pulling away once it was clear. The man in the suit had taken his drinks and returned to the VIP lounge. “Just stay with me a little longer and I’ll send you off. But I need to be reassured we have an understanding of each other. Yes?”
“I’ll throw them off your trail.”
“You mean your trail,” she corrects, doing nothing to ease his anxiety. “My road ends tonight once we depart. Remember, I am a ghost. You people only hear from me when I let myself be known. Once I go cold I’m only a rumor with no trace to lead you to me.” How fitting for her to use the word ‘cold’ as a spy, when the book she was reading when Ross arrived was ‘The Spy Who Came In From the Cold’.
Seeing his look of near disappointment, she smiles, “How about we give one last show to our little friends. I don’t think they’ve been convinced yet.” While he doesn’t glance to the booth, her expression is enough to indicate they were being looked at.
“How do you suppose we do that?”
She moves closer again, this time cupping his cheeks in her hands. “You trust me, Everett?” He could feel his heart pumping, warmth filling his veins, but nodded nonetheless. She wastes no time in connecting their lips.
The kiss is soft and tentative, the spy allowing him to take control if he wanted. Slowly he moves his mouth against hers, hands going to rest on her hips while she pushes against him. The music continues to blast, patrons moving around them to get to the bar and ignoring the fact they were making out. There was pretty much a couple on every corner of the club doing the same.
She pulls away after a few seconds, but offers another peck to his lips before taking a napkin to wipe at the lipstick residue. She gives a signal to the bar tender, telling him to close her tab before pulling out a lipstick tube from her small handbag.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Agent Ross,” she places the napkin on the counter beside his full water cup, not taking her eyes off of his. “I’m gonna go touch up my lipstick in the bathroom. Forgot my compact mirror when I was leaving—you know, in a rush. I hope to one day run into you again.”
“How will I hear from you?”
A smirk makes it’s way on her lips, face illuminated by the red strobe lights shining down from the ceiling. “You’ll know.”
He didn’t know what made him ask, knowing she wouldn’t tell him, but he did anyway. “Will you tell me your name?” Her eyes seemed to sparkle, a genuine smile appearing now on her expression.
“That’s classified,” She stepped forward, so their chests were pressed together. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you. Until then I shall leave you with his word of advice: sometimes objects are not what they seem, best to check them out before leaving them be. Good luck, Everett.” Stroking his cheek with her hand, she winks and moves past him in the direction of the bathroom.
He watched her go, disappearing in the crowd of patrons until she was no longer in his sights. The breath he’d been holding in finally escaped, the man bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose as his brain processed everything that had happened.
“You alright there, buddy?” The bartender asked, coming up to wipe the surface.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, looking over his shoulder again to see if he could find her. But he came up empty handed feeling another wave of disappointment. Then he became confused, and slightly angry when it crossed his mind that she didn’t give him the intel. She gave maybe a penny’s worth of information. All she did was accuse Val of something he had no proof of. “Dammit.”
She deceived him. Like the spy she was. No wonder she was so good at what she did.
“You sure, man? I mean you haven’t even touched that water I gave you a while ago.”
He really couldn’t care less about the water. Not when he was gonna have to deal with a shit show when he returned to the agency. Waving a hand, Everett started to turn so he could face the bartender. “Can I actually get a bourbon on the rocks—,” he cut himself off when his eyes landed on water cup.
More specifically the object next to water cup. A Mac lipstick tube. The one he saw her pull from her purse.
“You said bourbon? Any particular one?”
Unable to think straight, Everett rushed out, “A-anything on the top shelf.” When the guy walked off, Everett picked up the tube. Inspecting it upon first glance, it appeared to be a normal lipstick from Mac cosmetics with the shade sticker reading, ‘Ruby Woo’ which he assumed was the red color she was wearing that now stained his lips and the napkin.
She said she was going to touch up her lipstick….but left said product on the counter for him to find.
Everett now thought back to the riddle she told him, ‘Sometimes objects are not what they seem, best to check them out before leaving them be.’
“I wonder…” he said to himself, nodding when the bartender placed the glass of alcohol in front of him. Turning away so no one could see what his hands were doing under the bar countertop, Everett let his curiosity get the best of him and opened the tube. Then he twisted the bottom so the contents would appear.
It wasn’t the red color he would’ve expected from a makeup product. No, it wasn’t even a lipstick at all.
It was a hard-drive.
“Did you get it, Ross?” Val’s voice was calm, but he could tell she was worried. “Did she give it up like she promised?”
“We got a problem, Director Fontaine,” he spoke with mock frustration.
“And what would that be?”
Everett’s gaze focused on the computer screen, watching as files upon files appeared proving everything the woman in red told him. The drive sticking out of the random computer he bought solely for it as to not have his personal or work one hacked. This device would never be known to the agency and remain hidden until he could gather what was needed to expose the dirty laundry his ex-wife and current boss was trying to hide.
A chat box popped up in the corner of the screen. Red lettering glowed as more information surfaced behind the window. Everett felt himself smirk, speaking into the receiver, “It looks like your little friend decided to double-cross you. She never made her presence known.” As Val started to lose it on the other end of the phone, Everett read over the words staring back at him.
“Let the game begin, Silver Fox.”
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starreo · 3 months
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multi-character drabble.
includes alcohol consumption, adult themes so, mdni.
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he got drunk around you a lot. and when he got drunk, he got too real.
last time, he'd mentioned how much in love with you he was, and how just everything about you was way too perfect to him. his confession, obviously shocked you, and led to a thorough investigation in the morning when he sobered up, completely unaware of the previous night's events.
and after you'd gotten a sober confession out of him, you let him ask you out again. though it was all messy and stuttery, you preferred it over his drunk one.
this time, you were sitting on his couch, after a nice candle-lit date, a glass of wine in hand as you watched him pour some for himself...chuckling as you noticed him side-eyeing you, mumbling about being more careful this time.
and as usual, he got carried away. glass after glass, he kept pouring it till the bottle was empty, sentences sounding so slurred as his eyes had a hazy cover to them. "a-and, y'know...then, i-i did...smth'...uhh-y'know..." he leaned in closer to you, his cold breath hitting your neck as he whispered his little secret in your ear, "s-sometimes, i think...of you," he gulped, looking at you as if he had revealed the most scandalous secret and all you could do was giggle in response, pulling his cheeks in awe.
"mhm, what do you think of...?" you asked, fingers still stretching his cheeks. "of y-you...when, 'm touchin' myself...." and that seemed to shock you because your grip on his cheeks widened, only letting go once you heard an "ouch!..." it was probably the first time the two of you had discussed something like this...it was probably wrong to probe him about it right now, in this state. you thought, as you watched him, amuse himself with the strings of your dress.
but then again, you might not get this chance again, "and...?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow as you ask him to elaborate. his eyes looking right into your soul as he smirks, a light blush appearing on his nose as he stutters over his words, "s-so...usually, i just think of your nails leaving scratches in my back as i bury my cock inside your tight little cunt," and your eyes widen, not having enough time to wonder over how confidently he just said that, when he slams his wet, drooly lips against yours, mumbling between the kiss, about how he wants to make his dreams come true.
eren jaeger, reo mikage, gojo satoru, bakugo, yuri briar (there is sm depth to his character, and if you don't understand it then,, just don't talk about him !!)
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© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .
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yandere-daydreams · 4 months
Text
Title: Loving Suffocation.
A Continuation Of This Piece.
Written for a very lovely, very indulgent anonymous commissioner.
Pairing: Yandere!Loid x Reader x Yandere!Yor (SxF).
Word Count: 4k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Slight Somnophilia, Spanking, Sex Toys, Breeding, Mentions of Pregnancy, Medical Malpractice, Oral Sex, Obsessive Behavior, Slight Gaslighting, Bruising/Marking, and Overstimulation.
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You never did get to see your opera. A lack of oxygen turned your cramped world blurry and abstract, and you faded in and out of consciousness while Yor fussed over your ruined dress and gathered you up in her arms, the strip of fabric she’d tied around your neck and stuffed in your mouth – not quite a gag, but enough to convince your uncooperative vocal cords that calling for help wouldn’t be worth the effort. Sometime between being pulled against Yor’s chest and slipping out of that sex-saturated storage closet, you blinked and by the time you could find the strength to open your eyes again, you were in your apartment, in your own bed, your makeshift gag gone and your wrists bound  behind your back with a generous amount of duct tape. You briefly considered calling for help, but you were past the point of screaming. Even if you tried, the Forgers were your only neighbors close enough to hear, and you’d seen enough of enough of that family for a lifetime.
Just as exhaustion began to overwhelm your better judgement, you caught stifled footsteps in the near distance, heard the door to your bedroom creak open and shut with enough force to shake the drywall. This time, when you closed your eyes, it was in a deliberate effort to will yourself to sleep. An effort that was, of course, rendered futile by Yor’s hand on your forehead, a soft hum too tender to be purposefully deceptive. “I think they might be asleep. The poor thing could barely hold their eyes open.”
“That’s fine.” Instantly, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice low and airy, but even in worst dreams, Loid seemed to be able to carve out a place for himself. It made sense for him to make an appearance in this nightmare, too. “Can you show me where the damage is?”
You held your breath as Yor’s hand drifted from your face to your thigh. After a moment of hesitation, she nudged you onto your back, pulling the ragged remains of your skirt up to your waist. You fought not to bolt up as cold air washed over your exposed, abused cunt – not to ball your fists as you felt Loid’s narrowed eyes pry into you the way they always seemed to when you passed each other in the hall, when he got home before you could find a reason to get out of the Forgers’ suffocating apartment. You managed to hold yourself still as he clicked his tongue, edging that much closer to the foot of your bed. You could picture him leaning over you, perfectly styled blonde hair falling ever so slightly out of place as he took long, agonizing seconds to evaluate the bruises lining the inside of your thighs, the crescent-shaped marks Yor’s nails had left pressed in your hips, your waist. Calloused fingertips brushed over your ankle, but further restraint was deemed unnecessary as his attention shifted back to his wife. “And you said you found them…?”
“Unconscious,” she filled in. You could hear her shifting her weight, feigning concern as her husband evaluated you. “In front of our building. I tried to wake them up, but they panicked, and I remembered the treatment you told me about for—for hysteria.” She paused, swallowed. “I thought I could help, but I’m afraid I might’ve just made things worse…”
Loid’s response was delayed, put off in favor of inching that much closer to you. The mattress dipped as he rested a knee on the foot of your bed. Don’t move, you repeated to yourself, despite the ever-growing urge to get up and run gnawing violently at the back of your mind. If you pretended to be asleep, you’d only have to tolerate a few minutes of his attention before he got tired of leering at your conscious body. If you pretended to be asleep, they’d leave and you could start to forget this ever happened.
It got harder to be so rational as he reached out, running two fingers over your slit and splitting apart the lips of your pussy, giving himself a better view of your abused clit, your entrance – still pitifully drooling slick. You tried to remember what kind of doctor he was, but any specialties that might’ve come to mind were immediately forgotten as his gloved fingers slipped inside of you. You had to bite back a quiet hiss as he scissored open the sore walls of your cunt, his touch probing and experimental. At least Yor had the decency not to draw it out. “You reacted swiftly and efficiently. Even trained paramedics leave residual damage.” He drew back suddenly, and you fought not to jolt at his callousness. “Can you show me what exactly your…” He trailed off. You could practically hear the curiosity in his voice. “…your treatment entailed?”
Yor made a noise you couldn’t decipher. Loid moved away from you entirely, but Yor was quick to take his place. She settled into the space between your legs, her hands – shaking ever so slightly – taking up your hips, her fingertips near-perfectly aligned with the dark bruises pressed into your skin. You felt her breath ghost over the inside of your thighs, the flat of her tongue run gingerly over your slit, and you bolted upward on instinct, mouth open and ready to—
—ready to have your scream stifled and suffocated by Loid’s palm as he forced his hand over your mouth and shoved you back into the mattress. Unable to claw at his arm, to pry him off of you, you thrashed under his steadfast hold, but he didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Rather, his eyes met yours for all of half a second before flickering to his wife, sparing her a slight nod. “Patients usually react with some level of resistance. You can go on.”
Yor’s eyes widened, but any shock she might’ve felt seemed to melt away at her husband’s assurance. She was more nervous, now that she was performing for an audience rather than assaulting you in the privacy of her chosen hideaway, but the little, tentative movements of her tongue got braver over time, her eyes closing as her hands drifted from your waist to your thighs. She nudged your legs onto her shoulders and latched onto your clit, suckling with just enough force to draw a reaction out of your burnt-out nerves, to leave you trembling and struggling to swallow back pained moans and pathetic whimpers. It hurt – more than anything, it hurt – but she had your body trained, knew just what points to hit to get what she wanted out of you. More than that, your body knew that it wasn’t going to end until she reached her goal, until she had you cumming on her tongue for the— god, how many times would this make? You’d lost track after the first dozen, but even if you hadn’t, it would’ve been impossible to tell, impossible to know what she’d accomplished the first time reality started to blur and consciousness was rendered more of revokable privilege than something you’d ever be capable of holding on to without help. In less than a minute, you were grinding against her tongue involuntarily, the movement of your hips stilted and jerky. You couldn’t have called it a real orgasm, not when any pleasure you could’ve felt was so overshadowed by a searing sort of ache, but Yor seemed satisfied – drawing the back of her hand over her chin as she lifted her head, sending Loid a sheepish smile.
“I just, uh,” she started, drumming her fingers over your thigh. “I just did that until they calmed down. I’m not sure if it helped.”
“I see.” Loid, for his part, failed to let his air of stoic professionalism so much as waver.  “And how many times did the patient reach climax?”
“…thirty?” Yor let out an airy, nervous laugh. “Maybe more. It… It was a little hard to keep track, in the moment.”
“And they’re still so unruly.” He was kind enough to feign concern, to let his tone soften and purse his lips into a thin frown. For a second, you let yourself believe that you’d just stumbled into a bad situation – that he and his wife were under some shared delusion and genuinely thought they might’ve been helping you, but then you caught a spec of crimson on the collar of Yor’s dress out of the corner of your eye and thought better of trying to humanize them. “Would you mind if I took a closer look?”
The question was posed to Yor, not you. “Please do, you’re the doctor here,” she spouted, hurrying to get out of Loid’s way. Loid was more hesitant, his palm lingering over your mouth as his eyes found yours. He was cold at the best of times – his expression often hollow when he thought your attention was elsewhere, his touch enough to send a chill down your spine on the rare occasion he found an excuse to put his hands on you – but the look he sent you as he uncovered your mouth was nothing short of frigid. The threat was clear, albeit ambiguous. You had no idea what Loid was capable of, let alone what extremes he was willing to go to.
But, you knew what Yor could do – you’d caught her in the act.
And you weren’t eager to find out what’d she’d do to you at her husband’s request.
When his hand finally fell away from your mouth, you didn’t make a sound. Rather, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek as Loid wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you onto his lap – his thighs cutting harshly into your stomach. The position was enough to leave your cheeks burning and humiliation tying knots in the back of your throat, but whatever embarrassment you might’ve felt was multiplied ten-fold as his hand ghosted over the buttons lining the back of your dress and your only remaining protective barrier fell away – mutilated fabric now limp and useless beneath you. You started to writhe, but the heel of Loid’s palm found the small of your back, pressing into the base of your spine with just enough force a pained whimper past your lips. Reflectively, Yor moved to reach towards you, but Loid shook his head. “It’s important to test for reactiveness,” he explained, tone flat and steely. “I can take care of bruises and cuts, but lasting nerve damage will make things—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—difficult.”
“Oh!” Yor clapped her hands together. At least she seemed to sincerely believe that, even if she wasn’t helping you, her husband might be. You couldn’t tell what Loid was thinking, but it couldn’t have been so benevolent. “Is that what you’re doing now? Testing for reactiveness?”
“Exactly.” Loid flashed her a smile. You felt him shift, fish something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. Aching numbness had put you at a distance from his invasive touch before, but Yor’s mouth had done away with that – resurrecting the buzzing sort of hyper-sensitivity that meant you weren’t able to hide the way your hips bucked against his thigh as he slid something sleek and metallic into your drenched pussy. It was oddly shaped – one end tapered and the other flat, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand but still big enough to leave you squirming uncomfortably as Loid pulled back. “Normally, I’d use more intricate equipment, but there are a few experiments I can run on my own.”
You heard nails against metal, a soft click muffled by stiff machinery. After a second of delay, the object inside of you let out an abrupt pulse of pure vibration – harsh and sudden and awful. Your reaction was reflexive, undisguisable. You threw your head forward as you bit back a bubbling, broken moan; waves of intense reverberation beating at the walls of your cunt. There was no time to brace yourself, to grow into the piercing sting – it was already too much. The walls of your pussy clenched around the source of your agony, and before you could think to stifle your reactions, to give them as little as you possibly could, tears were blurring your vision, dripping down your cheeks. Yor cooed, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheeks. “Poor thing…” she mumbled, before looking up towards Loid. “I don’t think they’re enjoying it.”
Another wave of pulsing reverberation, a jagged cry forced past your lips. “P-please, turn it off, take it out, I can’t—”
It took you a second to process the sound of a palm against flesh, how it might’ve been connected to the bright flash of pain just below the curve of your ass. When you could bring yourself to glance over your shoulder, his hand was raised, his expression stern. The sight was enough to make your heart ache in your chest – a sensitivity which surprised you. You hadn’t thought there was anything the Forgers could do to hurt you more than they already had.
“We’re going out of our way to help you.” It was the same tone he used with Anya when she refused to do her homework or threatened to drop out of her upper-crust academy. Whatever genuine sympathy he might’ve had for you was buried beneath a heavy layer of practiced stoicism and nearly totalitarian authority, turning the words cold where they should’ve been comforting. “It’s unfair to be so ungrateful when Yor’s already sacrificed so much of her time for the sake of your health. Why don’t you apologize to her?”
Again, you heard that same soft click, and the vibrations pulsing out of the object in your cunt doubled in intensity. You let your head fall forward, clenching your eyes shut as you struggled to spit something out. “I… I’m sorry, Yor, I didn’t mean to—”
You were cut off by a sharp moan, the feeling of Loid’s fingers tracing over your slit. Soon, the pad of his thumb found your clit, pushing dull circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. He let out an airy chuckle as you withered into yourself, your legs spreading involuntarily as your feet struggled to find purchase on carpeting that seemed to be just an inch too far, to ground yourself on something that Loid didn’t even have to try to keep just out of your grasp. “Don’t strain yourself,” he muttered, your unwanted reward for your easy compliance. “How does this—” He pushed a rough pattern into your clit, drawing out a wavering cry. “—feel?”
Miserable. Torturous. The worst thing that’d ever been inflected onto your poor, spent body. You deflated, your chest flattening against Loid’s thighs. “…it hurts.”
This time, he let you finish before pulling back, his palm striking your ass with twice the force he’d used before. You cried out, the noise uneven and anguished, but your pain didn’t seem to rank very high on his nebulous list of concerns. “I’ve already told you not to be so ungrateful,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you know what would’ve happened if we weren’t here to help you?” Another strike, another ragged sob. “You’d be suffering on your own, in excruciating pain and spiraling into your own delusions. If we hadn’t been there to correct you so quickly, you would’ve been unrecoverable.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You were babbling, now, your apologies clumped together and nearly unintelligible. Loid cut in, pointed as ever.
“You’ve already apologized.” Two digits slipped into you, splitting your pussy open. Somehow, the added stimulation only seemed to make his device’s vibration more unbearable. “Now, it’s time to tell Yor how thankful you are.”
“Thank you—” There was no hesitation, no resistance. If you’d been able to, if you hands hadn’t been bound, you would’ve clung to her, dug your nails into her shoulder and your teeth into Loid’s thigh, anything to feel like you weren’t about to fall apart altogether. “Thank you, I’m so— I can’t— Thank you—”
It was Yor, this time – her mouth crashing against yours as her hand found the back of your head. Her tongue slipped past your lips, raking over yours with a ginger sort of tenderness and raking her fingers through your hair, drinking down every little moan and whimper her husband forced out of you with enthusiasm. She lingered there, lips moving gently against yours, as you reached your next climax – the number completely lost on you, now. When she pulled away, eyes glazed over and a dark blush painted over her cheeks, Loid hummed approvingly, fishing his bullet-shaped device out of your pussy and switching it off. Slick dripped down the inside of your thighs, your chest heaving stiltedly against his lap, and you noticed, for the first time, something large and stiff pressing into your stomach. For your own sake, you decided you weren’t going to think about it.
But, like always, Loid was quick to tear even the comfort you found in your own mind away from you.
“You did what you could,” Loid started, with heavy sigh. “But their condition is worse than I thought. It might take more than the usual treatment to set them back on the right path.” A lengthy pause, an arm looped underneath you. With more care than he’d seen fit to show you all night, Loid repositioned you on your back in the center of your bed. You were too exhausted to so much as try to protest. “For cases like this, insemination is the only known cure.”
Yor blinked up at him, more curious than confused. “Insemination?”
“Pregnancy,” Loid filled in. “It can be done artificially, but for cases this severe…”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. Weakly, you tried to sit up, but it was Yor that stopped you, this time, pressing her hand flat against your shoulder and pinning you down effortlessly. “If that’s what’s best,” she chimed, her smile wide and brilliant. “Can I help?”
For the first time, Loid’s expression seemed to warm. “Of course.”
Less than a full minute later, you were slotted against Yor, your head resting on her chest and her arms loosely wrapped around your midriff. Loid had reclaimed his position in the space between your open legs, one hand on your hip and the other toying with his clothes, shifting the waist of his now-wrinkled dress pants down just far enough to free his flush cock – already hard, already leaking pearls of arousal. The sight, paired with the breathy sigh he let out as he wrapped his fist around his shaft, was enough to dash any hopes you might’ve had of a last-minute change of heart.
You squirmed in Yor’s hold, your fists balling around your own near ruined sheets as Loid aligned himself with your entrance. You didn’t realize you were talking until you heard your own voice, fragile and desperate, nearly too broken to be comprehensible. “Please don’t, I—I’m not sick, please don’t—”
It was Yor who hushed you, this time, smiling as she pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “He’s going to help you,” she whispered, tone simpering where you wished it would be sterile. “You can just sit back and relax while we—” She paused, squeezed you against her playfully. “—make sure you’re alright.”
There was a beat of silence, of stillness. Eventually, you managed to stutter out, “I don’t want your help.”
Loid let out an airy chuckle, tracing the flushed tipped of his cock over your slit. “You don’t have to want anything.” He bowed his head, leaning down far enough to rest his lips against the top of your head. “You’ll need all the help you can get, in a few weeks.”
You didn’t have time to protest, not before he thrust into you – sheathing himself to the hilt in a single stroke.
You tried to scream, but Yor’s mouth found yours in a moment, swallowing any fractured noises you might’ve been able to make. Loid didn’t seem interested in giving you time to adjust; immediately falling into a rhythm just as forceful and just as cruel as anything else he’d done to you. It wasn’t a question of if it would hurt, anymore, but how badly. The feeling of his not inconsiderably length splitting open your aching pussy alone was enough to bring tears to your eyes, and his rough thrusts, his shattering pace – all of it only working to agitate the few parts of you that hadn’t already gone numb to his assult. You clenched your eyes shut, willing yourself to go completely numb, but Yor cooed, one of her hands falling away from you only to find its way to the curve of your stomach, her palm soon pressed flat against your skin. “Miss Anya did mention wanting a younger sister,” she muttered, nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. “It’ll be difficult to hide, ‘till it’s over with. There used to be a single mother working at city hall, but the State Security Service paid her a visit and…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “But I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you!”
“Of course not.” Loid’s voice was breathy, his attention mostly elsewhere. He did his best to stay composed, to maintain that painstakingly professionally air, but you could feel him twitch inside of you, feel his hips stutter as his pace grew that much more brutal. “We’ll be taking care of you. When you start to show, you’ll move in with us, and—” A groan, a pair of tired eyes allowed to close. “—and if you cooperate, we’ll make it so you don’t have to worry about anything aside from the baby. Any added stress will only make the pregnancy more difficult.”
Loid’s hips pressed against yours, Yor’s mouth on the curve of your neck. “Our little family is growing so quickly.” You could feel her grin against your throat, fangs ready to clamp down at the first sign of resistance. “I can’t wait until you’re better. You’ll be so happy, when you’re in your right mind again.”
Your mouth fell open, but anything you might’ve said died in your throat long before it could ever reach your tongue. There was no pleasure to it, no stimulation other than the same grating sensation and the pinpoints of pressure where Loid’s fingertips dug into your waist, but if your comfort mattered to Loid, he would’ve stopped as soon as he saw what his wife did to you. He cursed under his breath, throwing his hand forward and hauling your rigid body that much closer to his. You didn’t have a chance to brace yourself, to trick your pain-addled mind into believing there was anything you could possibly do to get away from him before he went still, something thick and searing flooding into your unprotected cunt. He lingered there, his cum leaking out of you despite your pussy’s futile attempts to cling to his cock, and for the first time, you let yourself think about what they were taking about – insemination, pregnancy, growing families and new siblings. You let yourself acknowledge the weight of Yor’s hand against your stomach, Loid’s hips against yours. You let yourself breath in, holding the air in your lungs for a moment before exhaling and going limp against Yor.
Fuck.
If you never saw the Forgers again, it’d still be a day too soon.
Yor started to pull away from you, but Loid stopped her. “Conception can be fickle,” he started, fighting not to pant audibly. “It’d be for the best if we were…” His eyes dropped to you. “…thorough.”
“Do you hear that?” Her hold grew that much tighter, her smile that much brighter. Her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The feeling might’ve sent a chill down your spine, if you still had the strength to be afraid of them.
“Loid’s going to take very good care of you.”
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violet-eng · 5 months
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Drunk!Loid Forger x wife!fem!reader | NSFW 🔞
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Summary: Loid comes home very late drunk after going out drinking with Franky. He fucks you drunk.
Warnings: Porn with no plot lol. Smut +18. Oral fem! Masturbation. Inappropriate use of belt. Spanking. P i v. Unprotected sex, mention of pregnancy. MDNI
Wc: idk like 3k?
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For Agent Twilight, there was something pleasurable about playing Loid Forger, the carelessness that the peaceful family man could indulge in from time to time without suffering any major consequences...like the night Franky had invited him out for a drink.
Twilight was a man of strong drinks, the kind that go to your head and detach you from reality by ripping your thoughts and every last drop of consciousness from your brain... he was addicted to those drinks because he could stand them, because they were no challenge for the best spy in Westalis.
However... along with the wonderful, sweet personality that the Loid Forger brings with him, certain misplaced platitudes fall upon Twilight. Twilight was a cold man of steady mettle and pure stoicism, a determination that could not be eclipsed by mundane feelings like... falling in love....
The fusion of his alter ego as Loid Forger with that of his original identity as Twilight had led him to the very night he stumbled back to your house, his hand covering his face in search of relief from the terrible headache.
He doesn't turn on the kitchen light because he knows you're sleeping in their shared room, and he doesn't make any noise when he fills a glass of water because he's afraid of disturbing your sleep.
You, his beautiful and efficient wife, what more could he ask for but a devoted woman like you. Fuck... if only his mission would never end... he wouldn't have to leave you.
"Loid..." you whisper from the living room, peering over the wall. He woke you up... you can't see him in this state, he can't talk in this state. If he confesses anything now, if he gets carried away with his feelings for you, anything would jeopardize the mission...
Come on, Twilight, think fast. He shakes his head as he returns to his role as Loid Forger.
"Y/n, my dear. I'm sorry I woke you," the voice is calm, even though your name falls from his lips in a frenzy of emotions.
"You came back late," you add, emerging from your hiding place and walking towards him, who stops breathing for a moment.
The dim light illuminates your figure, you are wearing only one of his shirts, which covers the skin above your thighs, and a pair of white wool stockings. Your hair is down, and it seems to Twilight that you look perfect in this moment, with these clothes and this warm light.
Damn, she looks so...
"I'm... I'm sorry, I went out for a drink with Franky. I didn't think I'd be back so late," he stammers for a moment. What are you doing to him? What effect do you have on him that he can't control his emotions?
"I see," you smile, "your cheeks are pink, you look lovely"
"No... no, of course not," he turns his face away, lips parted and cheeks burning.
What are you doing, Twilight, regain your composure.
"I missed you," you confess, embracing him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting them fall to his stomach, filling his breath with your scent, your lemon and honey scent reaching into the deepest recesses of his mind, taking over his consciousness and his last shred of self-control.
I am Twilight... and I am fucked... I want to fuck her tonight like I've wanted to fuck her for months.
You are completely unaware of the man on top of you. He has carried you into the bedroom in one swift, nimble movement, stealthily and carefully. He has laid you down on the mattress and is now attacking your neck with his lips.
Whiskey breath surrounds your mind, your consciousness is clouded and your heart is disturbed by the frenzy of your husband's kisses, causing sensual gasps on your skin. Loid's hands run through your hair, tangling behind your neck to give him more access to your neck and chin, devouring your surface with hunger and desire.
You are completely immobilized by his muscular body, and by the surprise that his behavior has caused you, you feel your heart in your throat, the beats echoing in your ears, only eclipsed by his moaning when he touches the valley of your breasts through your shirt.
"Loid~" you bite your lip and try to push him away with both hands, but it's no use, Loid is so much stronger than you. Has he always been like this?
"You have no idea how you turn me on," he whispers, almost on the verge of madness, his throat is choked and he holds back his tongue that wants to run all over your body.
He sits on top of you, you find relief in being able to breathe normally for a moment as you see him unbutton his shirt, opening it with a jerk to expose his chiseled abdomen. It's not the first time you've looked at him without his clothes on, but you always marvel at the way his muscles stand out against his skin, the way a few scars frame his pecs and abdomen.
You reach out and touch his skin, the line between his chiseled abs, in a reflexive action. Having him so close, like this, awakens a vulgar side in you that only he knows.
"Patience," he whispers, the tone deep and punctuated with a lustful gasp.
He throws the cloth away from the bed and leaves his hands on the belt of his pants. His movements are desperate yet unmistakable, he is quite skilled for being so drunk.
His pants are on the floor next to his shirt and boxers, he holds the belt between his hands and strokes the leather with his fingers, a dark idea floating in his mind.
"Loid..." you get his attention, only to meet a dark stare, bathed in malice.
"I have plans for you, y/n" his smile is evil, but it turns you on, fuck, you've never seen this side of your husband before.
Loid made love to you, when you slept together he was the soft and gentle type who cared more about your satisfaction than his own. He didn't play with you, he didn't tempt you and he didn't make you beg. His gaze was always loving, full of sincere and genuine affection. His kisses were chaste, almost as if you would break if he came any closer, and his thrusts were gentle, so that he could feel you clearly and not hurt you.
And he didn't cum inside you because he knew you weren't ready to be pregnant, because it was enough to take care of Anya, another child would be too much work for both of you... so when you were done, he bathed you and fell asleep next to you, framing your form with a protective hug and sweet, almost poetic words in your ear until you were both asleep. Loid was a sweet and loving husband...
That was Loid, and it was okay... for you... because for Twilight, it was a nightmare.
He hated going slow, he hated not being able to bite your skin or leave marks between your legs, and worst of all, he hated you moaning a name that wasn't even his. That's why tonight, he would completely take over Forger's identity, kill Loid, and do to your body what Twilight had wanted to do since he first saw you.
"Shit," he grunts as he takes his member in his hand and fucks him with his fist, throwing his head back. Just the thought of fucking you that night had turned him on.
You look at him with great surprise, you've never seen Loid masturbate before and you didn't think the first time would be while he was on top of you. The way his ragged breathing lifts his chest, the way his muscles flex as he jerks his arm, and especially the way he moans your name as the red head of his cock drips pre-cum.
Even though you are completely unaware of this behavior, you can't take your eyes off of him. You slip a hand under your clothes, rifling through your panties in search of your clit, throbbing at the image of Loid above you. Your wrist is gripped by Loid's hand, which leans over you with a tight grip and whispers into your ear.
"Not yet. I haven't given you permission," the voice is unrecognizable, Loid has never used such a low tone.
He undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling the fabric apart as he dips his face between your bare breasts, sliding the fabric under your shoulders as you squirm from the soft bites he leaves around your nipples.
He circles his tongue around the buttons of your breasts as he runs his hands all over you, from your sides to your arms, lifting them above your head. Loid touches you as if he has never touched a woman before.
He takes the belt and holds your wrists above your head, watching you from his position, like a hunter watching his prey. You let yourself be taken in by his bizarre game, maybe it's a fantasy he's wanted to fulfill for a long time and now he has the confidence to do it, you think.
And the reality is that Twilight fucks like this because he knows he's going to fuck you so good that you'll want to push it away with all your might.
He leaves a trail of kisses all over your face, down your chin, your neck, between your breasts and your stomach, around your waist and down to your hips, where he holds the elastic of your panties, fucking soaked with your juices.
He glances at you before tearing the thin fabric, and for a moment you can see the face of an unknown man, his face completely changed by the lust he is releasing at that moment. Leaning back on his elbows, he spreads your legs and rests them on his shoulders, licking his lips as he watches your dripping pussy.
With his fingers he gently caresses your valley and the edge of your hole, his finger grazes your clitoris, eliciting a moan from you.
He looks at you from between your legs, analyzes your face and the surroundings, and you swear his mind is going a mile a minute right now."What are you thinking about?" you ask embarrassed.Loid turns his gaze back to you, the blue of his eyes seeming darker than before.
"I was debating whether to gag you or not, I don't want to wake the kid."
"I won't make any noise... I... I promise," you say hesitantly, because you don't believe your own words.
"I want to hear you hold back," he smiles, the corner of his lip turning to the side.
He dips his face between your legs, his nose brushing your skin, his fingers parting your folds, his tongue moving from the base to the top. You shiver at the passage of his tongue as it begins to wiggle around your clit. It is delicate, gentle, as it always has been... but he seems to enjoy it more than before.
He gasps as he moves his head, his fingers spreading your folds further apart and you feel the warmth of his breath on your entrance. He doesn't tire, he doesn't stop, in fact, with each movement he seems more energetic than before.
He continues to caress your clit with his tongue, sucking on the small nub that makes you arch your back and hold back the moans that want to escape your mouth. You feel Loid's tongue at your entrance and his nose brushing your clit, then a finger slips gently inside you, followed by another.
His fingers are long, calloused, and surprisingly dexterous. He finds your spot almost immediately and you feel like you're seeing stars. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, your button is swollen and he sucks on it passionately while his fingers abuse your sensitive spot inside you.
Your walls close over his fingers, he thrusts in and out, fucking you wonderfully with his digits, while your ecstasy grows in your belly from his skillful tongue.
He lets out a hot gasp against your skin, and the sound of his fingers soaked in your juices floods the room, it seems harder and harder to contain your moans. You bite your lip hard as he makes a soft stroke over your button, his fingers digging deep inside you.
He makes a curious movement, lifting his fingers and seeming to increase his speed, he uses his other hand to mistreat your clit, with his elbows he spreads your legs. You can't close them, you want to, you want him to stop, you feel the burning in your stomach and in your legs. He lowers his face again to the level of your sex, just when it seems he is finished, he continues, his tongue abusing your hole and your clit in perfect synchrony, a hand runs down your belly and catches your breast.
"Loid~" you let out his name in an anxious moan "Ah~ Loid..."
That name, he thinks, his mouth and mind focused on your sex... I am that now, I am Loid Forger, this is my wife, and I will see to it that she can't get out of bed for days.
"Loid," you add, taking his hair between your fingers, your bound wrists making movement difficult.
"Mmh?" he whispers still between your legs, the vibrations of his voice sending electric waves up your spine.
"Since when... you're so good... so good at this," your words are cut off by a dirty moan that slips from between your lips. It hurts, it hurts not to be able to make a sound, it hurts not to be able to scream out how good your husband is eating you right now.
"What do you mean?" he asks, he knows exactly what you mean, but he likes to play with your mind, right now.
His movements are synchronized again and your mind is confused as you feel your orgasm erupt. Loid has never made you come with his tongue alone. And he hasn't lasted this long. It's different, he behaves differently.
You're breathing hard, your mind a whirlwind, and even more so as you watch Loid savor the nectar that has stained his fingers. His tongue dances erotically between his digits, and his gaze is all on you.
"I missed your taste. Much better than whiskey," he says.
You pick up your legs, thinking he is done, and when you go to ask him to untie your hands, you feel him flip your hips. The movement is quick, almost imperceptible, your face is glued to the sheet, and when you go to protest the sudden change of position, you feel him sink deep inside you.
"Loid!" the cry you let out is unmistakable. It hurt, but it also felt so good. He pushes your walls apart with his cock, molding your insides for him. He leaves a resounding slap on your butcheek and you hear him laughing behind you.
"Just what I wanted to hear," he says.
He pulls back, letting the head tease your entrance, your sodden pussy contracting to nothing, and he slips back in, whole, as far as your cervix will allow. You feel the crash of his hips against your ass and his balls slapping against your skin. His hands are anchored to your hips, leaving occasional slaps on your now pink skin. He's ramming you like an animal, the pace is fast and the force is enormous.
You tremble, your face sunk into the mattress, your forehead rubbing against the sheet from your husband's movements, your elbows in front of your head and your hands raised as if in prayer.
"Loid~ please...more...slower," you moan, almost sobbing.
Each thrust is accompanied by moans from both of you, his moans dark in comparison to yours, and in the background the grinding of the bed and the banging of the headboard against the wall. He moves like he's never moved before, fucks you like he's never fucked you before.
His fingers slide under your belly, touching your clit, you let out another scream at the overstimulation, and begin to move your hips in time to his fingers. Your breasts are massaged by his other hand, fully attended.
"Loid, Loid I..." you don't know what to say, the sentences you blurt out are meaningless, pleasure clouds your mind and all you hear is Loid's low growl behind you.
"You have no idea," he whispers in your ear and leans over you. You feel his chest against your back, your pussy shuddering at the change in position and the sudden cessation of his assault. "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to fuck you like this."
He spreads your lips with his fingers and your tongue tastes your own taste and a hint of the whiskey he'd had a few hours ago.
"m gonna fuck you until that little pussy of yours breaks, did you hear me?" he demanded grabbing a fistful of your hair and lifting your head.
"Yes... yes I heard you" you blurted out between moans. You couldn't say no, you didn't want to.
He continues his onslaught, more violent than the previous ones, expanding your walls, opening you wide for him, throwing your head back in an avid attempt to enjoy every nook and cranny of your loins. It feels as if it's going to pierce you at any moment, hammering against your spot abruptly, relentlessly.
You turn your head to look at him in the mirror, head back, eyes closed and lips parted, letting out low moans. His arms, muscles tense as his hands hold your hips, holding you in place. His hips move deftly, forcefully, he knows how to align himself perfectly before entering you again.
And you, your back is arched perfectly, your ass vibrates with each thrust and your breasts jiggle in frenzy from the onslaught of his cock. Your cheeks are pink, your lips swollen, your forehead sweaty.
"So good" you hear Loid, who leaves his hand on the back of your neck, returning to your starting position.
You reach your second orgasm without even recovering from the first, and Loid cums inside you soon after.
"I like that you have stamina," he says, turning your body around without coming out of you, his movements continuing, resuming the frantic rhythm of a few seconds ago.
You don't have stamina, fuck no, of course not. But there's not much you can do when your hands are tied and held down by a burly man taller than you. You tell him you can't take it anymore, you feel like you're going to pass out, but fuck, how good it feels when he caresses your waist while he fucks you in that position.
He hides his face in your neck, strokes your hair, frames your cheek with his hand. Untie your hands without looking, and you finally feel free enough to anchor yourself to his back, marking his skin with your nails and playing with his hair.
Loid's favorite position is missionary, because he can smell you as he penetrates you, because he has access to you in every possible way, because he intertwines his hands with yours above your head and whispers that he loves you, over and over and over again.
"Say my name," he whispers, his voice drowned out by your shoulder, "say my name, please.
"Loid," you whisper again and again as you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands find comfort in his.
He kisses you, kisses you as if he had never kissed you before, as if with one kiss he could suck your soul and keep you in his chest forever. With this kiss, he tears away all your doubts and strengthens the promise of a life together with you.
He will not leave you, he tells you fervently, he swears on his life that he will never leave you, that he will put a child in you and that he will not leave this family.
"I hope you will accept me as I am," he whispers.
"Oh, Loid," you smile as you cling to him in an embrace, your legs feeling your third orgasm approaching,
"Loid~ I love you...".
There are no words to describe this night, it has drained you of all your energy, you feel almost sick, weak and completely out of control.Loid hugs you to his chest and covers you with the sheets, leaving a kiss on your forehead and whispers how well you took it.
"Loid..." you whisper.
"Yes?"
"You don't have to ask me to accept you...I love you in every possible way. If this is your way of telling me that I need to get to know you better, I am ready to do so. If I discover another phase of you, as I did today, I will be more than happy to do so," you look at him smiling, "I have noticed that you have many faces that I don't know, Loid Forger.
Loid Forger, he thinks, the man of a thousand faces... doesn't sound bad.
He knows he'll have to tell you about his mission someday, but now is not the time, not after he's shed his facade and shown you an authentic side of himself. Even though he knows you'll understand, he doesn't want to risk everything, at least not yet... later, when you know Twilight better, he can tell you everything... and stay with you. ....
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aerequets · 1 year
Photo
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safe and sound
buy me a coffee
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habitabel · 25 days
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My favorite genre of TF2 fanart is EEPY SNIPER fanart, examples:
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I have a link to my board full of napping sniper art on my Pinterest I'll link it below 😝 (SEND ME MORE IF YOU FIND ANY
❗❗❗THIS IS NOT MY ART BTW THE ORIGINAL ARTISTS SHOULD BE ON THE PINTEREST BOARD I LINKED❗❗❗
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Text
Did I Make You Proud?
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Character: Spy!Bucky x Rogue!Spy Female Reader
Summary: Imagine being a rogue agent, relentlessly pursued by your irresistibly attractive former mentor, Bucky, who is determined to track you down.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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Bucky P.O.V
Bucky's gaze flicked up to the intercom as the voice crackled through, laden with stress. "Did you see her?"
He sighed, the weight of the crowded train station bearing down on him. "Too many people here," he muttered, his frustration evident in the terse response.
"I never thought she would betray us. We have to find her before they do," came the voice from the intercom, laden with frustration.
Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration mirroring the tone on the intercom.
It was understandable why tensions ran high in the spy agency; one of their own had gone rogue, becoming a fugitive and leaving chaos in their wake.
And to make matters worse, the rogue agent is you.
The senior agent, Bucky received a direct order to apprehend the rogue agent. He was the one who had trained and guided you.
The situation's urgency hit him like a wave as he grasped the gravity of the rogue agent's actions. You had obtained sensitive data from a secret base and were planning to sell it to another country, triggering a potential international crisis.
"BANG."
The explosion erupted from the toilet, sending shockwaves through the crowded area.
"KYAA!!!" Panic spread like wildfire as people scrambled everywhere except for Bucky.
He remained calm amidst the chaos, a knowing look in his eyes as he recognized the familiar tactic. He had taught you well – create a distraction but ensure no civilians get hurt. It was a motto they lived by.
As his colleagues and the soldiers mobilized to locate the source of the explosion, Bucky's focus was unwavering. His gaze swept over the frantic crowd until, finally, he spotted you.
There you were, a smirk playing on your lips as you sat inside the cafe directly across from him.
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Bucky – relief at finally finding you, the rogue agent, mingled with disappointment and a touch of regret.
Despite the agencies hot on your trail, you exuded an air of confidence, leisurely sipping your coffee as if you hadn't a care in the world. Bucky's jaw clenched with determination as he observed you from afar, his fist tightening as he made his way towards your location.
As he anticipated, you had vanished from the cafe, but your signature perfume lingered in the air, serving as a tantalizing clue. Trusting his instincts, Bucky followed the scent until he spotted you boarding a train.
With a quickened pace, he hurried to catch up, his steps purposeful as he entered the same carriage as you. The doors closed behind them, sealing their fate within the confines of the train.
"Bucky, what are you doing?" the intercom crackled with concern.
Bucky's hand moved swiftly to remove the device from his ear, slipping it into his pocket as he met your gaze with steely resolve. "I found her," he declared, his voice firm as he prepared to confront the rogue agent face to face.
Bucky quickened his pace, determination driving his strides as he reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to the quiet area of the train.
"Stop what you're doing. Do you want to get caught and be a prisoner in another country?" he pleaded, his voice laced with urgency and concern.
You shrugged nonchalantly, seeming unfazed by the consequences. "As long as I get paid," you replied, a hint of indifference in your tone.
Bucky's grip tightened as he looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of recognition. "This isn't you," he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation.
Pushing away his hand, you retorted, "What happened to 'no strings attached'?"
Bucky grumbled in frustration, feeling the weight of his own words haunting him. Perhaps you were right; he shouldn't have let himself worry about you.
But memories flooded his mind – the nights spent together, sharing warmth on cold evenings, and when you pretended to be husband and wife. Those days held a special place in his heart, now overshadowed by your betrayal.
"You... you were different," he muttered, struggling to reconcile the person he once knew with the rogue agent before him.
With a smirk, you met his gaze defiantly. "Because of you and the agency pushing my limits, I've learned my true value," you declared, your confidence unwavering.
"I'm a good spy."
Bucky couldn't deny the truth in your words. Despite the circumstances, there was no denying your skill as a spy. You had learned from the best – him.
As tension crackled between them, a mixture of frustration, longing, and unresolved emotions hung in the air, a testament to the complex relationship they once shared.
Bucky's voice was stern as he demanded, "Where's the data?"
You met his gaze with defiance, a smirk playing on your lips. "Too late. Before you guys found me at the train station, I already handed it over to the buyer."
The weight of your words hung heavily in the air as Bucky processed the gravity of the situation. "Do you even realize what you've done?" he asked, his tone tinged with disbelief.
You shrugged casually, a flicker of intensity in your eyes. "Can't you see the big picture? If there's only peace, people like us won't exist. I'm just here to keep it alive," you retorted, your confidence palpable, starkly contrasting to the timid and quiet persona he once knew.
Bucky fell silent, taken aback by the transformation before him. You had evolved into someone both confident and alluring, your newfound demeanor leaving him both impressed and unsettled.
You sensed his internal struggle and couldn't resist teasing him further. "Did I make you proud?" you inquired, tilting your head provocatively and adding a coy "Sir?" to the end of your question.
A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you continued, "Or perhaps you'd rather catch me and handcuff me to your bed?"
Bucky's patience wore thin as he reached out, his fingers pinching your chin to meet his gaze. Leaning in closer, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss filled with unspoken tension.
The kiss spoke volumes, a collision of conflicting emotions – desire, frustration, and longing – all wrapped up in a single moment of intimacy.
As Bucky pulled away, his voice was low and authoritative. "Don't test my patience," he warned, his eyes burning with a mixture of warning and undeniable desire.
You let out a low, almost amused hum. "Hmm... I know."
The train whisked them away, racing across the bridge with breathtaking scenery flashing by. In a different circumstance, perhaps they could have appreciated the view together. But now, they were locked in a tense standoff.
"We should meet again," you remarked, breaking the silence.
Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
You offered no explanation, but a sense of unease prickled at Bucky's senses. He tensed, feeling a presence behind him, and his suspicions were confirmed when he turned to find seven men poised for a fight.
"Really?" Bucky shot you a disbelieving look as you shrugged nonchalantly.
"I need something to stall the time. I'll see you again, Sir." You turned and bolted with that, leaving Bucky to face the onslaught alone. He braced himself, ready to take on the challenge.
The fight was fierce, a whirlwind of punches and kicks as Bucky engaged in a battle of wits and strength. Despite being outnumbered, his training and skill allowed him to emerge victorious.
As he dealt the final blow, the sound of a helicopter overhead drew his attention. Bucky sighed, realizing that this was your escape plan unfolding.
When the train finally came to a halt, Bucky found himself surrounded by his agency colleagues, their expressions a mix of disappointment and frustration.
"She got away?" one of them asked, voicing the collective sentiment.
Bucky could only nod grimly. "Yup."
"Shit."
The frustration simmered within Bucky as he slid his hand into his jacket pocket, feeling something unexpected. With a quick glance, he pulled out a small item, his cheeks flushing crimson as he recognized it. It was undoubtedly your doing, a teasing reminder of your audacity.
Despite his frustration, Bucky couldn't deny the thrill of the chase, the challenge you presented only fueling his determination to catch you.
With a silent vow, Bucky steeled himself for the subsequent encounter. He would find you; this time, you wouldn't slip through his fingers so easily.
🚁
As you reached the top of the stairs, panting slightly from the exhilarating climb from the moving train, thrill and nervousness danced in your veins. 
Clara, your partner in crime and the helicopter pilot shook her head in disbelief. "I knew you wanted to make a cool exit for your hot former mentor, but this has to stop," she chided a hint of exasperation in her tone.
"Climbing up from a moving train? You might as well have signed your own death warrant," Clara continued, her eyes wide with concern.
You flashed her a mischievous grin, trying to brush off the seriousness of the situation. "I just wanted to impress him," you admitted, your voice laced with a hint of sheepishness.
Clara sighed, knowing all too well how to handle your impulsive tendencies. "Maybe next time, just kidnap him and live on a private island. Then you two can live happily ever after," she suggested with a playful wink.
You chuckled at the absurdity of her suggestion but couldn't help but entertain the thought. "That's not a bad idea. I should save money to buy an island," you mused, already picturing the two of you lounging on a tropical beach, far away from the chaos of the spy world.
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.
Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.
Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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angelltheninth · 4 months
Text
Secret Relationship with Loid Forger
Pairing: Loid Forger x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, condom use, secret relationship, unspoken feelings, co-workers
A/N: Loid is THE perfect man. You know I'm right.
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On missions you were his equal, his foil, Twilight was your partner both professionally and personally. Although that last bit was kept a secret between you, it's no good for two spies to get as close as the two of you. Especially those who frequently work together. Thus your nightly meetings became a carefully guarded secret, shared between the two of you and four walls of whosever place, or hotel you were at that night.
His back was the only place you could leave marks on so you always took advantage of that, raking your nails down and making sure he knew how good him fucking you felt. Loid never wasted time making you come, from the moment you became his lover he was very attentive.
Made you jealous of all the women before you. He was the same, envious of the men you flirt with. But your missions came first, your feelings after. That's why when you fucked each other you made sure to let the other know how special this is. "I'll make you come so hard on my cock. My good girl, look at you, taking my cock better then any woman ever could. So perfect around me."
According to Loid he never talked like this with other women. They were a means to an end, quick, meaningless pleasure. But Loid? He was always yours.
You pushed your hand against his hip, the other in his dirty blonde hair and pulled until you were looking into his eyes. "Fuck me." You wanted to tell him to love you. "Like I'm yours." You were his. "Please Loid, make me feel good, make me come." Loid's hands pushed under you, his callused hands against your shoulder blades, chest pressed close, the sound of each others heartbeat loud enough to drown everything else out.
Even the fast paced sounds of wet skin slapping against each other and your mutual moans as your orgasms crashed against each other. The only barrier between you was the condom Loid was wearing. One hopefully that too will be gone.
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prettyboypistol · 2 months
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How to Seduce the TF2 Mercs
Scout
Pay attention to him. Give him genuine compliments and honest feedback. He wants to feel loved and like he's worth someone's time.
Kisses and physical affection. Mans thinks about the time you put your hand on his shoulder for weeks.
Just say you love him, man. He's been overlooked his whole life.
Soldier
Take him seriously- don't belittle him or make jokes about how he views the world. He knows he's a little crazy but he is genuinely trying his best to make the world a better place.
Defend him!!! If someone shit talks him, punch that motherfucker in the jaw!!
Honest discussions with you asking a lot of questions, take the time to get to know him and you'll have a defender for the rest of your life.
Pyro
Much like with Soldier, defend them and take the time to get to know them.
Gifts, gifts, gifts!!! Give them gifts!
Be a little flirty ;> don't baby them! Treat them like the adult they are!
Demoman
Bro just ask to fuck. He'll probably say yes.
He loves a bold mf that knows how to take what they want. Come on to him, buy him a drink, and ask if he's got any company for the night.
If you're going for something a little more long term, just remove the sleeping aspect. Just say you're interested in getting to know him you'll most likely get a date and see how things go.
Engineer
He's a sucker for practical use gifts (i.e. mechanical oil, a new wrench, etc) or sentimental gifts (photograph of you two, love letters)
Call him handsome! Call him pretty and a gentleman! Appeal to that cowboy energy and treat him all respectful like and you'll definitely catch his interest.
If you're not the type to do all that song and dance, go the opposite route. Stump him with a logistic problem and tease him about it. He'll nonstop think about you for months and bitch about you to his sentries.
Heavy
Mikhail likes hotheads and determined people, someone who's not afraid to fight if the situation comes to it.
Ask him about general things and slowburn that mf about nice conversations until you two can talk about personal things.
Ask him to help you clean your guns! Ask him weaponry questions about what would suit you better in the field!
Medic
GET THIS MAN SOME ORGANS. GET HIM SOME FUNDING!!!! get him a lil lovebirddddd
Take the time to get to know his birds and if the birds like you, Medic automatically likes you more.
Take an interest in his medical discoveries and his life! He's a prime yapper and wants to t a l k. That's why he never shuts up when doing surgery.
Spy
Romance him traditionally, to be honest. Keep it classy and court him like the romantic he is. Roses placed in his locker, prime dinners delivered to his door, BE A ROMANTIC ABOUT IT.
If you can't dance, ask him to teach you "for a mission" (He will know that you're the one behind all the flirtatious gestures bc he's SPY)
Butter up that man like he's a piece of toast. Handsome young man who captured your heart and holds it hostage. Classy gentleman that could get away with world domination with gorgeous eyes like that.
Sniper
Don't come on too strong, he's a bristly one. Be calm and casual. Hit him with that friends to lovers.
He's more of a tough nut to crack and insecure of if you actually like him, so be sure to flood his mind with ambiguous hints when you think you see signs of him showing interest in you.
To really seal yourself in his heart, spend a lot of quality time with him! Go camping, hunting, fishing, driving, anything that gets the both of you alone and quiet.
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sketchguk · 7 months
Text
part time lover; jjk (teaser)
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➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader
➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au
➵ word count: 484 (teaser) / 30.8k
➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.
only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 
➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk are both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison),  jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love). 
➳ publish date: saturday, october 14th 8pm EST
➳ a/n: this fic is part of the "industry baby" collab hosted by the lovely @jeonjcngkook and @mercurygguk! i'm so happy to finally release this fic in honor of spy x family season 2!
smut warnings below the cut!
➳ smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot
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It’s well into the evening when Jeongguk walks you home. The path is quiet. It’s illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps. It feels like a scene from a movie you’ve once watched ー the origin of all your teenage fantasies. But this is real. You’re just a girl, standing in front of a boy, and that’s where it all begins. 
“y/n?” The way he says your name brings you to a halt. His voice, although usually confident, is timid and uncertain. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We still have a lot to talk about.” He looks at you with stars in his eyes, although none of them belong to you, and they could never be yours. 
Your lips press together in a tight line, nodding your head in affirmation. As you bid your goodbyes, you wonder if it would be inappropriate to give him a hug. After all, you’ve only just met the day prior, and this is nothing but pretend. Yet how will you ever grow accustomed to the touch of your husband?
Your arms remain crossed over your chest. You look down at your shoes, kicking a loose pebble at the front of your door, contemplating. 
But he reaches for your hand, lightly grasping around your fingers. You jolt back as if he set your nerves aflame. Your gaze lifts toward his eyes, but it quickly lowers as Jeongguk descends down to one knee. 
Your heart pounds against your chest, and you pray that he cannot hear it. 
“I’m sorry I don’t have a proper ring…” He begins. “I hope you can accept this for now, and I swear I’ll get a diamond on your hand one day ー As big as you want.” 
Jeongguk carefully pulls a small metal band from his pocket. It can easily be confused for the end piece of a keychain ー perhaps it’s something that his daughter had left behind in his coat, never to be remembered. But for Jeongguk, he knows perfectly well that it’s the pin from a grenade he had tossed the week prior on an escape mission. He slides the ring onto your finger, and although it is slightly too large, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“I may not have been your first choice of a partner, and for all I know, I could have been dead last, but thank you for sticking by me. I swear I’ll take care of you. I’ll hold your heart with gentle hands, and I won’t ever let it break.” 
After all, this is just pretend. 
But for some reason, his voice sounds so earnest, and you almost believe him. To be frank, you never really cared about lavish weddings and seven carat diamonds. If you were to ever look for a companion, all you could ask for is an honest partner. 
Too bad Jeon Jeongguk is anything but that.
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check it out here!
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onyxmilk · 9 months
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Twilight x f!Reader; "Missing"
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notes; i <3 angst writing!!! tw; angst, pregnancy, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, loid went to get milk without even realizing wc; 1.5k
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[YourName] stood there, uncharacteristically caught off guard. She knew there would be missions where Twilight couldn’t say where he was going or how long he’d be, but right now? When she had the biggest news of their lives to share? That simply was crueler than just cruel.
The woman looked down, nodding toward The Handler. “Uhm, okay, well, thank you.” [YourName] said, swallowing thickly before going to turn around. “I know you’re with child, (AgentName).” The Handler said making [YourName] halt in her foot steps, “I-I may be.” [YourName] replied.
“That’s wonderful news. Do you want me to send a message to Twilight?” The Handler asks, and as much as [YourName] wanted her husband to know- she shook her head. “No, I’ll let him know whenever he gets back. Even if it’s years later.” [YourName] said before heading back home.
Once home and the doors were locked, windows drawn to a close too, [YourName] finally broke down. She wasn’t ready to be a single mother, but from the way The Handler wanted to hand such a useless message to Twilight, [YourName] knew it was going to be quite a long time before [YourName] gets to feel Twilight’s lips against her own.
[YourName] curled into a ball on the couch, finally finished crying her eyes out. Afterwards she took a shower, made a dinner she’d share with her baby, and then headed to bed for the night. [YourName] didn’t dream that night, she just blinked and it morning.
She called out of work for the month, only returning to the office when she was five months pregnant, or around that time period. She didn’t expect to open the door and confetti be popped around her, but it happened. She should have expected something like this.
“Congratulations! We heard you were pregnant!” A co-worker said excitedly, [YourName] simply nodded with a bittersweet smile. “Oh, yeah, five months along.” [YourName] says, gently placing a hand on her forming bump. There was a small office baby shower for [YourName] which she had no choice but to accept.
For the next five months, [YourName] was pampered around the office, not that she asked for it- it seemed to just happen. [YourName] found out about the mission her husband had been sent on, and all she could summarize from it was that he played therapist and dad for another family.
The day someone accidentally spoiled what Twilight was doing, [YourName] excused herself to the bathroom where she cried out everything she had held back. She wanted Twilight to play father for the family they had made together. She would exit her bathroom, that’s when her water finally broke.
Her co-worker rushed her to the nearest hospital, which happened to be the one Twilight played Loid Forger at. [YourName] sat in her room, holding her arms, alone. She never in a million years thought she’d be alone in this situation, shes read many books where women have been, but she swore she’d never be alone in labor.
[YourName] munched on ice chips between tears, that’s when a familiar face had knocked on the door and entered, “Nightfall-“ [YourName] said clearing her throat, wiping her face, and setting the cup of ice chips down. “Twilight is simply across the building, we just have to tell him that [AgentName] is in the bit thing unit, he’d come.” Nightfall explained to [YourName], it just made the pregnant woman scoff.
“It’s not fair to distract him from his work, he has a wife and daughter to act out with.” [YourName] says, looking away from Twilight’s co-worker. “Yes, true, but you’re his real wife and you’re giving birth to his first born.” Nightfall says as she attempted to convince the woman to tell Twilight about her situation, “I made my decision, maybe he should’ve tried to reach out through The Handler.” [YourName] says.
Oh. Yeah. Nightfall was suppose to give those check in messages to The Handler. Oops. Nightfall sighed, “Your secret is safe with me.” she promised before exiting the room.
[YourName] sighed, and before she knew it, she was giving birth. The whole pushing and breathing thing was so much harder than she expected. She swore she almost fainted, but she shot right back into consciousness when she heard the cry of her baby. “It’s a girl!” The doctor said, gently setting the baby on [YourName]’s chest.
[YourName] cried happy tears for the first time her entire pregnancy. Instantly, baby girl stopped crying and cuddled into her mom’s chest. It melted [YourName]’s heart, she never wanted to let go of such a tiny thing before. Eventually, the nurses had to take the baby girl to wash her up and place her in a warm blanket and hat.
With the help of a co-worker, [YourName] got home with her daughter three days later. Lotte, meaning ‘free’ in German, settled in nicely. How [YourName] wished she had Twilight with her on some nights to cheer her up and explain how he’ll get Lotte so that she could get rest instead. But [YourName] pushed through, not letting herself get too down in the dumps due to it.
Months would pass, Lotte was finally almost ten months old. Lotte watched as her mother scattered around the room, going in and out of the kitchen, cleaning. It started to bother the baby that she wasn’t getting the attention she wanted, so she began to get fussy, which her mom simply put off as ‘hating the boppy’.
Fussy turned into crying, and [YourName] was right there. She held her daughter in her arms, gently rocking her, trying everything in her power to calm her down. “M..” baby Lotte mumbled “Mama..” she cried. Despite the crying, it was clear as day who Lotte was crying for and it warmed every ounce of [YourName]’s broken heart.
It had been over a year and some things had changed since Twilight had gone on his mission. It had been over an entire year, and since there were still no messages from him- [YourName] didn’t send any to him either. It broke her heart that she had to play single mom when she was legally married to Twilight.
It just proved to herself that she could do this alone, sure she had a bit of help from co-workers, but it was mostly her doing all the work! The thought of possibly divorcing him had floated through her head, but she loved Twilight way too damn much to go through with it.
Another year would pass and Lotte was walking now, sure she had a little wobble to her walk- but she was walking! It was one of those nice days where she was sure nothing could’ve gone bad, so [YourName] decided to take Lotte out for a little treat. Over the last two years, [YourName] realized her daughter loved those soft cake pops from a local café. So her daughter would get a cake pop and [YourName] would get something to drink.
As [YourName] entered into the café with Lotte in her arms, she hardly noticed Franky and a pink haired child sitting together. By the time the mother did notice, Franky had noticed her fully first. [YourName] set Lotte on the chair and unwrapped her cake pop before breaking it into fours and taking the stick away, she then sat down next to her daughter.
That is when Franky had approached her, now she knew who he was- he was the closest thing Twilight had as a friend. “[AgentName]?” The short man asked, out of habit [YourName] turned around slightly to face whoever called her name. “Oh.. Franky..!” [YourName] said, blinking a few times to try and see better.
“Oh my god, it is you!” Franky said, dropping the child’s hand. “Where have you been? Who’s this?” He asked, referring to Lotte. Lotte was too busy stuffing her face to notice a stranger doting over her. [YourName] sighed, “I’ll tell you who she is if you tell me who she is.” she said making Franky nod.
With some hesitation, [YourName] would finally tell Franky; “This is Lotte, she’s Twi’s and I’s daughter.” she announced. Franky practically blew up as he malfunctioned, he covered the pink haired girl’s ears before he spoke, “Thats not possible. Twilight has been on his mission for two years.” Franky defended, “And I was pregnant before he left, now who is she?” [YourName] replied, gesturing to the child Franky had with him.
The pink haired girl pushed Franky’s hands off her ears. “I’m Anya Forger! Loid and Yor Forger’s daughter!” Anya introduced, but then it kicked in for Anya that THIS woman was Loid’s REAL wife. “Your baby is pretty.” Anya said, trying to break tension.
“I’ve got to go.” [YourName] scoffed, cleaning up her and Lotte’s area before getting up and picking her daughter up and going to leave. “He didn’t want to leave, [AgentName],” Franky said across the café. “Yet, he did and hasn’t sent a message since.” [YourName] says before exiting the café.
Franky had a lot of information to pass to Twilight this afternoon.
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miintsprigz · 4 months
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Mercs x GN! reader who drew them (ALL NINE!)
This goes out to everyone, not just my artists.
But yes, all my fic material is extremely self-serving.
Big thank you to a dear friend of mine for helping me with mercs like Pyro, Engie, Sniper, and Medic when I got stuck.
VERY LONG POST INCOMING
Scout
• Well, he IS an artist himself, that’s probably how the two of you first started talking.
• Ran past one day, only to immediately throw it in reverse and go “hey whoa whoa whoa when were you gonna tell me you could draw?!”
•Naturally…it was only a matter of time.
•He was always so encouraging about your stuff, so…after working up the guts, you showed him.
• “Yo wait a sec…you drew me??? I…” For once in his life, he’s at a loss for words. He’s never been drawn—not even a self-portrait. For as cocky as he seems…well…
•He just…stares for a second. Marveling. Is that…really what I look like?
• “Do you like it?” “Abso-friggin-lutely, (Y/N)!!! You kiddin’? I don’t even look that beautiful in real life! And ya know, that’s sayin’ somethin!”
•You laugh, and he pulls you in so fast to hug you that you weren’t even ready. “But seriously…thank you. I’ve uh…I’ve never been drawn before. You did amazing. …you know I gotta draw you now, right?”
•And he does. He’s a complete perfectionist about it—he feels like he can’t replicate you, you’re one of a kind. (He actually does very well! But he’s so shy showing it to you…d’aww.)
Pyro
•Pyro was more of a doodler than anything. They loved color. And of course, you could resonate with that.
•Sometimes you’d draw designs and let them color it in. They giggled all the while…they just adored how creative you were.
•Being the most secretive about their appearance, they’re hard to nail down…even for you. Pyro is most themself in their full gear. You, out of everyone, know that best.
•So you took a…different approach. Abstraction.
•Their hands, the ones that so often seemed to be magnetically drawn to you.
•Their back, the strong shoulders when they just felt content to sit in the quiet with you.
•The brief glimpses you’d caught of their face—split second instances in shadows—those were easy, yet challenging. Their brief sightings made them easy to be abstract about, and yet, it made them harder to actually nail down.
•Conjuring a rather fittingly smoky composition, it had a dreamlike feel to it. Pure Pyro.
•You were only a bit hesitant to show them, but when they did see…they surprised you a bit.
•You could see them straighten up a bit…surprised. They craned their neck a bit, looking closer, gently curling their fingers over yours to hold the snapshot-like portraits with you.
• “Hmmm…” There was a sort of…tranquility to them. So unlike your little sparky fella.
• “Do you like them?” Immediately, the edge of their mask bumped against your forehead—your own personal way of kissing. That was all the answer you needed.
•They couldn’t verbalize it, but…seeing beauty in images of themself. The same beauty they saw all around them…it made them see themself in a way they never had before.
•And of course, it made them fall even deeper in love with you, the one who cared for them so much that they took the time to look so deeply.
Heavy
•Heavy is a very intelligent man, but he’s never had much gift for creative work. Even his insults were kind of just the same thing repeated, when the other mercs made it an art form.
•So he couldn’t help but be enraptured by your artistic endeavors and how much work you put into them.
•He loved to see you covered in your medium of choice, your passion for it. Made him lovesick. How lovely you were doing what you loved.
•If he could paint, he would have wanted to paint that. So he could look at it forever.
•So of course, imagine his delight when you decided to draw him!
• That roaring laugh you so enjoyed boomed immediately, just elated.
•“Ohhhh…look at that! You captured me perfectly! Beautiful!” You couldn’t help but beam with pride.
•“Can Heavy keep this?” “Of course you can, hon.” This warranted a sudden barrage of kisses to your face, which cracked you up of course.
•“Very happy to have such talented artist as yourself to love. But to me? You are most beautiful. In all the world.” Despite being more eloquent in his native language, Heavy could still get you to turn red. “Oh gosh…” “Is true!”
Demoman
•Tavish had always been a pretty sentimental fellow. He really did enjoy artwork, but didn’t talk about it much.
•Once he discovered that you were an artist, he was over the moon. Finally, he felt, he could talk to someone about art without them possibly poking fun.
•He’d never go in your sketchbook unless you allowed him to, but he always looked with such admiration in his eyes. “That’s bloody brilliant. So long as ya luv it, never stop doin’ this. Cuz I’ll never stop lookin.”
•One day, you told him you had a surprise for it. “I dunno if I like surprises…” “Oh trust me, Demo,” you chirped, “I think you’ll like this one.”
•As you held up the finished product, his mouth went agape. Almost instantly, he began to smile.
•“Well aren’t you just the sweetest!! That’s me there???” “Yes, love. I uh, I hope that you like it.” His gaze shifted over to you, and you could see his eye had grown somewhat misty.
•Demo was at a loss for words. He had never thought of himself as particularly good-looking, certainly not good enough to be drawn. And yet. You had drawn him. Drawn him very well. And he liked how he looked. Was that how you saw him?
•“Aw, Tav…you okay??” He blinked quick, trying to keep composed.“Never better…c’mere, you…”
•Wrapping his arms around you, he gave you a kiss, just about taking your breath away.
•“My little artist…ya made me look so good.” You caught him rubbing his eye a bit. “I just drew what I saw.” “Well, ya see a work of art in me. And that? That’s the best surprise of all.”
Engineer
•With how much designing went into his machines, Dell could always appreciate the skills of an artist. So when he learned that you were one, well, that only sweetened an already sweet deal.
•You were a little self-conscious at first about him watching you work. You tended to just work parallel to one another, both lost in your own stuff.
•You’d sometimes stop what you were doing to follow his hands as he put the pieces together, fingers wandering as they looked for the correct tool.
•When the inverse happened though—when Engie watched you work—he admired your spontaneity. You could start off with a total wild card and somehow managed to pull it all together and make it work, in a way he never could have come up with.
•Being rather rigid in his own trade, that was something Dell couldn’t help but be dazzled by. Very smart man for sure, but rather by-the-book. Not like you. He saw genius in the way your mind worked.
•So, one day, as the two of you perused each other’s handiwork a bit, you shyly revealed the piece you’d made of him—hard at work on an updated sentry model.
•His lips parted a little like he was about to say something, but nothing came out.
•“I know it’s a little rocky…I’m not the best at drawing machinery.” Gently, he took ahold of the sketchbook and gave it a soft tug, nonverbally asking for permission to hold it. You let him.
•As he looked closer, a warm smile crept across his face. “Well, well…wouldja look at that. That’s me alright.” He chuckled heartily, but you realized it was from admiration, not amusement.
•“Look at you, (Y/N)! Saw me all covered in dirt an’ said ‘yeah, I can make art from that’. I love it…shucks, darlin’, I can hardly get my eyes off of it.”
•He looked back at you, still all aglow, only to find you blushing to the point of near luminescence. “Aw, c’mon now honey…no need to be all shy. You’re incredible, ya know that?”
•An arm slunk around your shoulders, pulling you fast to his side, quickly pecking the top of your head. “I love it, and I love you.”
Soldier
•Soldier was a brave man, that he was confident in. But even he was self-aware enough to realize he wasn’t the sharpest.
•Anything he’d ever drawn looked like kids’ stuff, so to see what you could make? It blew his mind.
•Jane tried not to stare while you drew—you’d gotten all nervous when you’d caught him, and he was trying to be courteous—but he couldn’t deny how it captivated him.
•“Whatcha workin’ on now?” “I’m drawing those two goofs.” You motioned to the Spy and Scout bickering as they often did. “Why them, of all things?” “I just like capturing the moment sometimes.”
•One day, as you sat while he drilled the rest of the team, you started to do just that. You found it hard not to chuckle just a little as the others groaned and rolled their eyes.
•Sure, you got their annoyance, but you couldn’t help but be pulled in by Jane’s excitement and hot-bloodedness.
•“Seemed pretty lost in your work there, or I woulda asked you to join in.” A strong hand ruffling your hair snapped you out of your daze. “Capturing the moment again?”
•“Uh-huh. I think this is my best one yet.” You turned the book around to show him, and you saw his lips part slightly in surprise before he suddenly laughed. “Haha! Look at that! It’s me!”
•You laughed with him, just happy to see him so tickled by it. “I think I really captured you.” “I’d say so, kid! I’d say so…wow.” The amusement gave way to what you realized was…almost awe.
•“I look…strong. Proud.” “Yep.” “…I look good.” “Of course you do.” He nudged his helmet down a bit with his hand, chuckling to himself. From what little bit of his face you saw…was he blushing?
•Imitating him playfully—it was something you two tended to do, he found it cute—you joked, in your best impression of him, “‘Are you going soft on me, maggot??? You’re red as a tomato!’” “Noooo…oh, (Y/N), what am I gonna do with you?”
•He caught the side of your face softly and pecked you on the cheek. “But…really. Thank you, sweetheart. I think that’s my favorite thing you’ve ever made.”
Sniper
•Truthfully, Mick had never given a lot of thought to the arts before he’d met you. What really caught his eye was the amount of time you put into it.
•Sniper knew better than anyone that holding still, completely focused on your task, being all but absorbed in it…that was respectable.
•The fact that he could leave for work and come back to find you in the same spot? It was just very attractive to him.
•You stopped by to watch him sometimes, very discreetly, on less busy days, although he wouldn’t lie, it got him nervous. He trusted in his own skills plenty, but…you weren’t just anyone. He couldn’t have you getting hurt.
•So one day, as he finally wrapped up, he saw you, still hard at work. He didn’t want to interrupt you, but if it was time to go, he wanted to go. Giving you a light pat on the shoulder, he chuckled. “Almost done there, darlin? Quittin’ time.”
•“Just a bit more…there. Perfect. Check it out.” You held up what you’d been working on: a full sketch of him invested in his own work.
•It took him a moment to process what he was seeing, but once he did, he couldn’t help but be amazed. Slightly slack-jawed, he looked up at you, the faintest trace of a smile.
•“Never considered myself the modelin’ type, ‘specially not out here, but…wow. Ya really did it. And I look bloody good, too!” “Well duh!” “Oh, stop—” Oh, that got him. The Aussie was surprisingly easy to fluster once he’d fully grown comfortable, and you loved it.
•“Awww, are you blushing?” “Just a little…now c’mon.” Taking your hand, he helped you up, quickly hugging you around the shoulders, catching you somewhat off-guard.
•“But really. Great job there. Thanks…it’s an honor, ya know that? To be drawn by you?” “Gosh—” “Heh, now you’re the one goin’ all red.” “Oh, stop—”
Medic
•The good(?) doctor first learned of your artistic prowess when he caught you trying to draw the charts he had on his wall. “Ooh! Very impressive.”
•Medic could do a lot of things, but drawing wasn’t really one of them. He couldn’t resist watching you work, even though he knew it was a bit touchy.
•“Poetry in motion, Liebe. Really.” Simp. “Oh, come on—” “I mean it! You have such precision, such grace…it’s a sight to behold!”
•So of course, when you were working on something that you absolutely would not let him look at, he wanted to see even more.
•“I promise that whatever it is, I will find it as beautiful as you!” “It’s not that, silly—it’s supposed to be a surprise!” He seemed almost sulky about it…it was kind of cute, although you did feel a bit bad.
•Eventually though, it was done—him, with Archimedes on his shoulder. “Okay, honey, you can look now.”
•One hand comes up over his mouth, audibly gasping. “Is that…? It is!!! Haha!”
•You had never seen him this happy, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, (Y/N)! Look at that…and Archimedes too!”
•Perhaps unsurprisingly, he brings the bird out to show him too. It’s hard to gauge the response from a dove, but the tranquil cooing seems to suggest that he enjoys it.
•The doctor catches you off-guard as he sweeps you into a kiss. “Oh…danke, Schatz (treasure). May I keep this?” “Of course~”
•Best believe this man is showing your art off to EVERYONE who he treats, going on and on about what an incredible artist and person you are.
Spy
•This guy is a man of culture, he can appreciate good art. And good artists, wink.
•But in all seriousness, your attention to detail was incredibly attractive to him. After you’d been together for a while, the two of you would sit in his smoking room and relax together once the work day was over.
•Sometimes he’d be off to the side just doing his own thing, reading, but other times he’d actually sit beside you and watch. There was an intimacy to it, one you took time to grow fully comfortable with, but he was patient.
•So when you were very secretive one night, it caught his attention. Nothing slipped past him—not even you. You sensed him behind you surprisingly quickly though, and quickly closed the project up.
•“Shy tonight, are we? So unlike you, mon bijou (my jewel)…” “Hehe…be patient, babe, it’s not done yet.”
•His arms wrapped around you from behind briefly…gosh, it was difficult to keep anything secret from this man. “Very well. Keep your secrets…for now.”
•But he respected that you didn’t want him to see it just yet, and so he waited.
•“…Okay, you can look now.” In an instant, he was behind you again. It was hard to even look up at the guy right now, but once you did…there was this sense of wonder in his face that you hadn’t seen before.
•It wasn’t often that Spy looked at himself unmasked for longer than a few seconds—he’d almost forgotten his own face by now. For spies, he reasoned, it was better that way. But the way you had captured every detail of him…
•“Oh, what a handsome devil…wonder who that could be…” Was he trying to brush off his own flustering? Maybe a little.
•You couldn’t help but giggle as he almost hurriedly sat down next to you, quickly drawing you in close as he continued to look. Almost entranced.
•That element of intimacy I mentioned before? It was his turn to feel it now. Not even in a physical way, which is what this Casanova is so used to.
•No, the fact that you had clearly just…looked at his face, so intently. There was something raw and vulnerable to it. And as much as he wanted to look at it even more, his eyes were magnetically drawn to you.
•“I wouldn’t have ever asked it of you, but…I always wondered what it would look like if you drew me. I…”
•Glancing back down, he found that he couldn’t even come up with anything to say. The act of love had rendered him speechless. YOU BROKE HIM OH MY GOSH/j
•“…Do you like it?” Before you could say anything else, you were swiftly kissed, and I mean kissed.
•Spy always looked at you with a sort of passion, but this was different. He had never felt so much love for someone. Felt like a young, hopeless romantic boy all over again.
•“I adore it…and most of all, I adore you, mon cœur (my heart).”
AAAAND IM DONE. WHEW. That was fun!
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lead0 · 5 months
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based on from the outback with love by @neo-my-geo
no idea how tumblr works so no guarantee that link will work ahaha :,)
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intheshadowsbehindyou · 7 months
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Hey I've been wanting to ask you for a while a request I've had. Can I have some headcanons of the mercenary's realizing their feelings for the 10th merc after they brutally bash in a enemy's skull in for trying to kill said merc. And then the 10th merc looks at them with extreme concern while checking up on them. Before turning around and killing another enemy that was about to kill them.
I would love to see the mercenary's reaction to being saved by their crush and having to deal with the horny panic of finding them attractive.
If you dont want to do this that's fine. Thanks again for making really good tf2 x reader content! I love it! Byebye have a good day/night.
The Mercs realizing they have feelings for Y/N after watching them brutally kill an enemy (NSFW)
WARNING: severe amounts of simping
Scout:
- Oh. Oh.. OH. OHH NOOO! OUR SCOUUTTT. HE’S BROKKEEENNN
- You look so dazzling with the blood on your clothes and the rockets whizzing past you. The explosions in the background creating a fine backdrop. Cue the cheesy romantic 40s music as you kill people in slow motion and Scout is in awe.
- You’re confused. He had been standing there even after you had successfully cleared the point. You wave your hand in front of his face and he doesn’t react.
- In his head he’s already having romantic fantasies of frolicking with you on the beach and bashing in people’s heads. The idea of you beating the shit out of him particularly makes him feel a certain way. He has no idea why. Oh god, is this normal? Wait.. Why is he already having thoughts of marrying you and growing old together?
- Immediately goes whining to Spy like a little pussy about you. He’s batshit scared of you but also has the most confusing boner. Good job. You sent him crying after his daddy. You hear a “SPYYYYYYYYYYYeeeEEEE!” as you leave the battlefield. Followed by a groan from said frenchman.
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Soldier:
“NOW HANG ON PRIVATE THATS NOT EXACTLY— Oh.. Ah..” Soldier hisses through his teeth and puts his fist to his mouth, his helmet falls back a bit from the impact you made of kicking an enemy demoman’s sticky bomb back to him. You can see his expression is incredibly conflicted about this. With mild arousal. Holy shit. Somebody as batshit crazy as him. Who the hell kicks an active explosive?
- Because on one hand, you’re impractical yet affective at what you do. Just like him. But on the other hand that’s HIS THING. NOT YOURS! He’s one to act incredibly erratic on many occasions when strategy is in the back of his head awaiting the stupidly fast yet eons long conveyor belt.
- Becomes incredibly infatuated by you on the spot. Creating a sort of vague idea in his head on what you could be like. Cue very vivid fantasies of you and him strangling a sumo wrestler while naked, claiming france as an American owned country for some reason by sticking the flag into the tip of the Eiffel tower while naked, and having a fine American breakfast on the deck of your cottage.. (while naked.)
- “Is that a pistol in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You ask him afterwards. “NEGATIVE. THAT’S A ROCKET. I ran out of room.” He lies. You believe him because that sounds like something he’d do.
———————————————————————-
Demoman:
- You destroy a sentry nest he was trying to demolish around a choke point. He’s both offended, and slightly attracted. You’ve destroyed his pride and humbled him. Normally Demoman is the only one who can take down a sentry nest unless Medic has full charge on somebody — among other things.
- He opens his mouth to protest but you silence him with an award winning smile that makes his heart flutter. As you run past him to head over to Medic and regain your strength, he’s scratching his stubble. Trying to comprehend the slurry of feelings. Demoman is an adult and he’s old enough to be fully aware that you can feel multiple emotions at once; that doesn’t make him any less disoriented though.
- “Ay.. finally somebody who’s on my level!” he calls after you. Promising he’ll outrank you next round. His competitive nature demands it. He’s trying so hard to ignore his boner right now. Assuming it to be just from adrenaline.
- Well, you’re tied. You’re both equal amounts on the next scoreboard. He stares at it on the intel computer terminals in disbelief. He immediately downs a shit load of his scrumpy. Holy shit. He has a massive crush on you now. Begins to wonder how drunk he can get before he forgets about this.
———————————————————————-
Engineer:
- You distract him so much he doesn’t even realize the jammed shell in his shotgun at first. You’ve made him lose like half of his life experience in a fraction of a second and he tries to take out the jammed shell and ends up burning himself. “God. DANGIT.”
- inwardly embarrassed and trying to make it seem like all was normal; he slaps the back of the gun so the shell falls out. Continues trying to defend the points… emphasis on tries. You’re his type AND you’re blood thirsty. He can’t help but feel slightly intrigued. The sparks of what would eventually be a crush once he starts talking to you more.
- He can’t bring himself to think filthy thoughts of someone he just met, he wasn’t raised like that. Occasionally the thought crosses his mind and he becomes a little angry with himself. Please stop being sexy in front of somebody who was raised in the bible belt. PLEASE! he would beg you if it didn’t sound so weird out of context.
- Fuck it. Christian shame doesn’t beat nature. He has to jerk off to the thought of you after battles in the shower. You’ve fucked him up.
—————————————————————————
Heavy:
- “Heavy, i’m fully charged. Focus on the soldiers in the front and tell me when to— Was zur Hölle?!” Medic complains, looking away from Heavy’s WAY too apparent hard on.
- Heavy would make a great ice sculpture right now. He’s both sweating and frozen in place as he watches you tear the enemy lines to shreds. He rarely feels this way for anybody at all. Heavy was certain his libido evened out as he got older but you just brought him back to square one. He felt like a horny teenager again.
- He wants to lick the blood off your neck so bad. It’s disgraceful. He feels like a disgusting sewage pipe and suddenly wishes the respawn machine didn’t exist so he could permanently die out here just to forget this even happened.
- Eventually waves his hand for Medic to pocket someone else. Goes over and helps you kick some ass. You indirectly both bond from this and successfully kickstart your connection.
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Pyro:
- You’re the same as them in their point of view. A ‘misunderstood’ killer (Yeah, okay..) who wanted nothing more than peace of mind while they went about their daily business!
- The enjoy he sees in your eyes as you land a hit is marvelous. Every single swing of your melee felt like some sort of complex ballet. There was birds and neon colors following you wherever you went. You’ve now given them a weird fetish for adept mercenaries they had no idea they even had. They want to meet you RIGHT NOW.
- air blasts a poor demoman off a cliff you were fighting. “Hey. It’s alright. I got this.” You tell them. Pyro just tilts their head. You walk on to cap the cart and Pyro follows closely behind you. “What’s up?” You finally ask him, out of curiosity. Pyro just stares. You begin to recall horror stories that the other mercs told you of Pyro.
- They continue following you around as your own personal bodyguard. Engineer tells you that he does the same to him on occasion. To the extent of protecting his sentries. Apparently Pyro just follows people around like a dog because they have no idea how to communicate their interest.
—————————————————————————
Sniper:
- Watches you a day before a match doing target practice atop a bridge. The targets in question are in the ravine below. The way you so effortlessly hit each target, only missing a few — for some reason caught his attention. He lowered his scope from his eye and preferred the entertainment of you for a moment.
- You get angry after only missing two. Taking your long range and throwing it aggressively into the ravine. Sniper has no clue why you did this, considering you’re the first person in a while who hasn’t fucked up this course right off the bat. For some reason your aggression is getting him hot and bothered. Is this just a weird preference or a sexual thing? Holy shit, he has no idea.
- Sniper brings his legs together to hide his wood. “Eyes both open with a gun like that, mate. Instinctive to close an eye but I guarantee you, if ya just focus on nothing but the target then boom.” He says. Wondering if maybe he was just overthinking and his penis was being insane.
- “As if you shoot with anything else besides a fucking sniper rifle.” You talk back. “I do, actually.” He says, shrugging at your rage. He didn’t feel like sassing back right now. He was tired. “I could show ya if ya want.”
- He bites his lip, applying pressure to the point it’s red. It was both your bad attitude and shooting skills. He loved a partner who was needlessly edgy. This is seriously the type of guy to swoon over the most edgiest of individuals. Eat nails for breakfast and wear a biker vest for god’s sake while you’re at it.
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Medic:
- Uhm.. Medic’s a little weird.
- Not only is he aroused by you in general but the blood on your clothes and in your hair. The way you kill enemies in-and-itself is arousing him. Much like Engineer he tries to focus on his job to no avail. Ends up pocketing you all day and after the other Mercs ask him about it, he claims it’s because they’re all annoying and not doing their jobs correctly again.
- He sits at his desk at night trying to do paperwork. He can’t focus after what he’s seen today. He begins having incredibly fucked up fantasies of eating your organs. Or you climbing into his chest and sleeping in there. Better yet? sex with both your entrails hanging out! knife play! biting! Dear god he’s gross. God, just shut up.
- He puts a hand to his own heart, feeling his heartbeat. For a second he suspected he was getting possessed or something. But no, he’s just incredibly horny. “Archimedes.” Medic said breathlessly. “I do believe i’m moonstruck. Which is unacceptable..” He sort of laughs nervously.
- Coooo. Brrr.
- “Yes, I wholeheartedly agree.” His voice is hoarse. Medic picks up his bonesaw at the end of his table and looks at his own reflection in it. “Every time I love somebody it ends horribly. Best just get what I want and move on.” He says, darkly. What he doesn’t know is that this is the start of his relationship with you. Enticing you to have sex with him — with your consent — it brings you and him to an incredibly intimate level.
————————————————————-
Spy:
- MOTHERFUCKER AINT PLAYIN. he doesn’t waste time. He sees a fellow serial killer and he immediately goes in for the kill. (Pun intended.) But yeah this is Spy we’re talking about here. He’s a manwhore and I thought the canon already established that.
- “That was some fine work out there.” He tells you slowly. His hands behind his back. “Would you care to join me for a second?” He offers his hand. Which you take hesitantly. He takes you to his quarters and attempts to court you. Which works because he’s something straight out of a romance movie with his clever quips.
- “I have a feeling—“ He begins, slowly offering his hand and hovering it above your thigh, placing it down and rubbing you slowly when he didn’t sense any discomfort. “That we will enjoy each other’s company often, my pet.” He looks for your approval. Any sign of it.
- Dude is so fucking slick that you can’t resist him. He’s unbelievably experienced in romance and knows how to charm his way into your pants. It was like you were under a spell by a hypnotic snake. He ends up getting what he wants and doesn’t hold back. His knife is threatening your back and he’s atop you. “Shhh.”
- Sex happens. Aggressive sex. Right off the bat.
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