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#but for now it is what it is and I’d prefer it to be written badly vs. not written at all
willowser · 3 days
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I have a thought and I’d like to share (if you don’t mind) - Bakugo with a pro hero partner. Like I feel as though all I ever see is civilian!reader or assistant!reader and that’s great, but I need me a girl boss who kicks ass and Bakugo’s head over heels, like I imagine this person to be so adored and loved as well - like the ideal “celebrity” so kind and sweet, well-spoken, but Villains hear her name they go runnin’ - everyone’s low-key got crushes on her, Katsuki’s wondering what the hell he did to rizz her up and because they’re both public figures, in spite of how naturally private he is, I think he’d feel more comfortable off-handedly making comments about her every now and then, showing up to events together.
Idk it’s just in my head
hello dear !! it's so interesting you bring this up, bc i feel like i actually have a lot of thoughts on this and i guess i've never mentioned them LOL
i think bakugou could have such a flourishing relationship with another pro hero.
like, i really do. i think that it's hard for him to meet people outside of work LOL so meeting/working with another pro hero is, i think, a very natural way to come together. i also think that bakugou would really appreciate reader's hard work ! their passion ! their motivation ! i think that would genuinely be such a draw for him ??? i absolutely think a pro hero relationship would really work out for him, and i have one pro hero reader wip and the dynamic between them is my favorite i think i've ever written, bc they just fit so well.
but i will say that this is not typically a reader i picture for him ?? as my go-to ?? it's always assistant reader aikhfaha LMAO and. i really don't think i have a good explanation why, but. something like—i like to imagine bakugou having a break from it all, and i just don't think he'd get that with a pro hero partner ??
idk !! like, if one of you isn't on patrol, the other probably is, like 90% of the time, and i imagine it's hard to get just free time to be together, bc you both would probably be so busy !! and if you were working together at the same agency or partnering up at random points, i feel like it would be so hard to come home from work and not. bring it with you 🥺 as a pro hero i feel like that's impossible, and were the two of you both bearing the weight of that responsibility, i feel like it would be hard to have a relationship outside of that ?? if that makes sense ?? and i also personally believe that bakugou has had too much pro hero at the young age of SEVENTEEN, so i like to imagine a life for him where he can put it all away, even for a little bit 🥺
you could definitely argue that having an assistant reader would be similar, bc you would still be involved in the hero world, but. idk. i think being there on the sidelines and being in it are different, and i like to imagine bakugou coming home from a long shift and getting to hear about what you did at your regular job or what you did in the garden, where you went shopping, etc 🥺 just. give him some normalcy 🥺
but that's just my personal preference !! though i definitely enjoy the pro hero reader angle !! please katsuki wondering what the hell he did to rizz you up LMAOOO tbh, i think if we ever were fed some kind of love story for bakugou in canon, they would give him a badass pro hero partner, bc i really think he would have a lot of respect for someone that can handle it, not to mention does it well. like. i think he definitely has the loserboy hots for them LOL
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alexandreakarev · 1 year
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This is a BLOG SET UP tag drop.  Wishlist, answered, promos, about blog, permanent starter call, stats are all tags under the cut. This tag set up are different quotes for all the tags in this section.
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* … ( OOC : ramblings. ) › ❝ she has a mouth like unswept glass. it will CUT you when you least expect it. ❞ * … ( OOC : ooc answered. ) › ❝ you have the words to change a nation and yet? you’ve been BITING your tongue. ❞ * … ( OOC : about the mun. ) › ❝ she has kind of said too much. and you’ve said ENOUGH. promise that she is just another narcissist. ❞ * … ( OOC : original poetry. ) › ❝ prefers her work to be RECOGNISED rather than hidden. either way? she won’t go speechless. ❞ * … ( OOC : self promo. ) › ❝ a little self-promo featured on the dash never really KILLED anyone. has it? ❞ * … ( OOC : promo. ) › ❝ the best people completely DESERVING of all of your love & attention on shining spotlights of their own. ❞ * … ( OOC : musings. ) › ❝ she is brave and STRONG and broken all at once. ❞ * … ( OOC : nsfw. ) › ❝ mascara runnin’ and lipstick smudged. wearing a red wine stained dress with a hint of the DEVIL in her eyes. ❞ * … ( OOC : desires. ) › ❝ took her hours just to do her makeup right. if you’re the reason it gets ruined she’ll be PISSED tonight. ❞ * … ( OOC : wanted plots. ) › ❝ wish I never hung up the phone like I did. WISH you knew that I’d never forget you as long as I live. ❞ * … ( OOC : wishlist. ) › ❝ let a shooting star run across a MIDNIGHT sky. throw a coin into a wishing well. make a wish now. ❞ * … ( OOC : ask meme. ) › ❝ she hates playing MIND games but yet continues pulling and pushing. loving you is a losing game. ❞ * … ( OOC : about blog. ) › ❝ doesn’t start with once upon a time. you know what she’ll introduce the LEGACY with? always and forever. ❞ * … ( OOC : plotting starter call. ) › ❝ handle it? are you kidding? she’s the master of SKILLFULLY planning the next tactical moves. ❞ * … ( OOC : statistics. ) › ❝ you and me got a whole lot of history. so does it ever drive you CRAZY just how fast the night changes? ❞ * … ( OOC : templates. ) › ❝ your lack of proper organisation causes her serious DISTRESS beyond what you could possibly fathom. ❞ * … ( OOC : credits. ) › ❝ the ABSOLUTE best lifesaving content creators. ❞ … ( OOC : all headcanons. ) › ❝ fact is deleted scenes should’ve made canon. would take over CONTROL of her original narrative. ❞ * … ( OOC : all replies. ) › ❝ written in these walls are the STORIES that I can’t explain. leave my heart open but it stays here empty. ❞ * … ( OOC : all answered. ) › ❝ watch out for a furious writer with a vocabulary of sharpened CONVICTION and quills in her arsenal. ❞ * … ( OOC : all edits. ) › ❝ nobody remembers the easy. they REMEMBER the blood, sweat and tears shed on the journey. ❞ * … ( OOC : reblogged. ) › ❝ don’t play the person. play to rig the game of the unfair system. and BREAK through the walls of it. ❞ * … ( OOC : reshared. ) › ❝ she’ll intend to keep these polaroids with her CAPTIONED signature to remember for when she’s grey. ❞ * … ( OOC : psa. ) › ❝ thank you next. in ADVANCE? you’re welcome. ❞ * … ( OOC : verses. ) › ❝ mayhaps in another world things would’ve been DIFFERENT. and I could’ve made you stay. ❞ * … ( OOC : verse drop. ) › ❝ she wants to be your midnights. are we out of the woods yet? tell me where do broken hearts go. ❞ * … ( OOC : queue. ) › ❝ just called to say this is the LAST you’ll be hearing from me. ‘cause now i’ve moved on. ❞
#tag drop#* … ( OOC : ramblings. )   ›   ❝ she has a mouth like unswept glass. it will CUT you when you least expect it. ❞#* … ( OOC : ooc answered. )   ›   ❝ you have the words to change a nation and yet? you’ve been BITING your tongue. ❞#* … ( OOC : about the mun. )   ›   ❝ she has kind of said too much. and you’ve said ENOUGH. promise that she is just another narcissist. ❞#* … ( OOC : original poetry. )   ›   ❝ prefers her work to be RECOGNISED rather than kept hidden away. either way? she wont go speechless. #* … ( OOC : self promo. )   ›   ❝ a little self-promo featured on the dash never really KILLED anyone. has it? ❞#* … ( OOC : promo. )   ›   ❝ the best people completely DESERVING of all of your love & attention on shining spotlights of their own. ❞#* … ( OOC : musings. )   ›   ❝ she is brave and STRONG and broken all at once. ❞#* … ( OOC : nsfw. )   ›   ❝ mascara runnin’ and lipstick smudged. wearing a red wine stained dress with a hint of the DEVIL in her eyes. ❞#* … ( OOC : desires. )   ›   ❝ took her hours just to do her makeup right. if you’re the reason it gets ruined she’ll be PISSED tonight. ❞#* … ( OOC : wanted plots. )   ›   ❝ wish I never hung up the phone like I did. WISH you knew that I’d never forget you as long as I live. ❞#* … ( OOC : wishlist. )   ›   ❝ let a shooting star run across a MIDNIGHT sky. throw a coin into a wishing well. make a wish now. ❞#* … ( OOC : ask meme. )   ›   ❝ she hates playing MIND games but continues pushing and pulling. loving you is a losing game. ❞#* … ( OOC : about blog. )   ›   ❝ doesn’t start with once upon a time. you know what she’ll introducd the LEGACY with? always and forever.#* … ( OOC : plotting starter call. )   ›   ❝ handle it? are you kidding? she’s the master of SKILLFULLY planning the next tactical moves. ❞#* … ( OOC : statistics. ) ⠀ › ⠀ ❝ you and me got a whole lot of history. so does it ever drive you CRAZY just how fast the night changes? ❞#* … ( OOC : templates. )   ›   ❝ your lack of proper organisation causes her serious DISTRESS beyond what you could possibly fathom. ❞#* … ( OOC : credits. )   ›   ❝ the ABSOLUTE best lifesaving content creators. ❞#* … ( OOC : all headcanons. )   ›   ❝ fact is deleted scenes should’ve made canon. would take over CONTROL of her original narrative. ❞#* … ( OOC : all replies. )   ›   ❝ written in these walls are STORIES I can’t explain. leave my heart open but it stays here empty. ❞#* … ( OOC : all answered. )   ›   ❝ watch out for a furious writer with a vocabulary of sharpened CONVICTION and quills in her arsenal. ❞#* … ( OOC : all edits. )   ›   ❝ nobody remembers the easy. they REMEMBER the blood sweat and tears shed on the journey. ❞#* … ( OOC : reblogged. )   ›   ❝ don’t play the person. play to rig the game of the unfair system. and BREAK through the walls of it. ❞#* … ( OOC : reshared. )   ›   ❝ she’ll intend to keep these polaroids with her CAPTIONED signature to remember for when she’s grey. ❞#* … ( OOC : psa. )   ›   ❝ thank you next. in ADVANCE? you’re welcome. ❞#* … ( OOC : verses. )   ›   ❝ mayhaps in another world things would’ve been DIFFERENT. and I could’ve made you stay. ❞#* … ( OOC : verse drop. )   ›   ❝ she wants to be your midnights. are we out of the woods yet? tell me where do broken hearts go. ❞#* … ( OOC : queue. )   ›   ❝ just called to say this is the LAST you’ll be hearing from me. ‘cause now i’ve moved on. ❞
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ki-yomii · 8 days
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➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.4k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; fwb, angst w/ a happy ending, teasing, finger fucking, squirting, praise kink, frottage, dirty talk, pet names, commitment issues, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, dom!jk, idiots in love, misunderstandings ➥ summary | after being stood up one too many times, you realize you're in love with jungkook. and that just won't do. ➥ notes | istg i've re-written this more times than i care to count 💀 enjoy!
🖤 masterlist | inbox | AO3 🖤
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cnt make it 2nite
The text is blunt - biting. No explanation offered, and certainly no false platitudes found in the lifeless string of black letters. Rather simple and straight to the point.
As you should have expected from Jungkook. He wasn’t known for his verbosity, and even less so for his love of texting.
But as you chew the fat of your cheek, reading it over and over again in an attempt to glean some hidden meaning that isn’t there, you admit to yourself - at least privately - there’s no more avoiding the truth.
One that’s been hovering over your shoulder for weeks like a shroud; an unwelcome guest you can’t ignore anymore: Jungkook’s been avoiding you.
It shouldn’t be surprising.
Moreover, it shouldn’t hurt.
There shouldn’t be an ache in your chest every time you see his contact or the plummet of your stomach when that inevitable excuse comes through.
In the end, he owes you nothing. The arrangement between you is casual, just a little fun between good friends.
It still fucking sucks though, you think, sucking your teeth.
Night thoroughly ruined before it’s begun, it’s only a matter of deciding how to respond now. In the past you’ve used a plethora of options, but you’re stumped. Unsure how to correlate the level of hurt to the nature of your not-relationship.
Should you be petty, passive-aggressive, indifferent - or worst of all: honest?
Hah, no way. I’d rather die.
Beside you, the bartender politely averts his gaze and busies himself with polishing a stack of pint glasses. It’s a slow night, and that’s saying something as this bar’s a little hole in the wall.
It’s never overly busy, which is one of the reason’s it’s a favorite meeting spot of yours. The floors might be sticky, but the music’s decent, the strobe lights they kick on after 10 PM aren’t offensive enough to induce a migraine, and the drinks are cheap with a heavy pour.
Watching him work is impressive - and almost distracting enough for you to ignore the needle sharp ache taking root beneath your ribs, the churn of your stomach.
Humiliation burns hot, creeps up your neck to settle into the apples of your cheeks as you’re stood up.
Again.
It isn’t the first time - it won’t be the last.
But it cuts deeper than all the rest combined, harder to shake off. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. The growing distance between you throbs like an open wound, as if Jungkook himself plunged a hand into your chest.
Scooped out any tender, soft thing he could find and left you hollowed out. Drained.
Not taking his flakiness personally used to be so easy. And now… well.
Goddamnit. A palm scrubs over your decolletage roughly to soothe the throb of your heart. What the hell did you expect to happen, getting involved with Jeon Jungkook, huh?
Everything from his stupidly pretty eyes to the dangerous curl of his mouth, the thick soles of his boots to the lapels of his leather jacket scream walking red flag.
Never mind the fact his proclivities are an open secret among the group. He’s never tried to hide his distaste for commitment. Finds it too monotonous. Predictable.
An eternally free soul much preferring to flit from one experience to the next, never shackled down for long. The Icarus of myth made flesh.
He runs through women like he runs through shoes, and you witnessed enough of the ensuing heartbreak and tears to be wary.
But knowing and feeling something are two very different things.
The dichotomy throws you off-kilter and finds you abandoned in a bar, once again, to choke on a regret so bitter you swear it’ll burn a hole through your throat.
What’s going on with me, you think, this is nothing new. He does this all the time.
You used to get on so well.
Any initial misgivings faded away in the face of Jungkook’s blinding attention, his unfaltering kindness lurking just beneath that surface of grit and gravel.
Even after you fuck, he never acts any differently, as casual between the sheets as he is lounging on your couch.
It's been great, it's been enough - until now.
Just the thought of going back to your empty apartment, alone, only to wake up and fall back into Jungkook’s orbit tomorrow when he swings by with a half-assed apology on his lips, and your favorite drink in hand is enough to make your skin crawl.
Stomach twisting itself into knots, everything in you rebels against the sudden cold realization: nothing will change - least of all Jungkook.
He’ll continue to take-take-take.
You'll continue to give-give-give.
On and on you'll go; a distant star orbiting a black hole, losing little bits of itself until there's nothing left.
Then he’ll leave your life as quickly as he entered it, a blurry after-image there and gone in the blink of an eye.
Fuck, I - I can’t do this anymore, you think, a shiver rattling down your spine, Because I…
An errant thought gains teeth, sinks them deep. Refuses to budge as an awful truth - one buried so deep you forgot it was there, ever lurking in the shadows - rises to the forefront of your mind.
And then --
Oh.
It’s because I love him - because I’m in love with him.
Suddenly it hurts to breathe, your lungs burning as you drown on the air itself. The steel band cinching around your ribs threatens to crack you open.
Your heart lurches in your chest, despair following swiftly to settle over your shoulders. Moreover, there is no one to blame except yourself.
Even if you want it to, it will never work out because loving Jungkook is to love the ghost of a long-forgotten memory.
And there are too many hurts to soothe, too many disappointments to name.
I can’t believe I actually -- shit. You swipe a shaky hand over your forehead. When you swallow, a sour taste clings to the back of your tongue. Should’ve known better.
You glance at your phone, the cursor blinking back at you mockingly. Should’ve done a lot of things, I guess.
Now, you're in too deep.
Waiting without ever realizing you began to do so in the first place; a life on pause, surviving off scraps of half-measures and maybe's, what-ifs, and if only's.
Now, it's clear the only way out is through.
The time to let go is here.
You need to muster up some semblance of self, and work to untangle the threads of connection binding you together. You need space to rediscover the pieces of your heart you left with him.
How to live without the taste of his kiss, the clench of his muscles, the thrust of his cock.
A new life sans Jungkook which begins with a simple reply in place of everything you really want to say: ok.
Then you wave the bartender over.
He does you a kindness once more, pretending not to notice the tears brimming along your lower lash line. “You ready to order?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah - sorry, I was…”
His mouth twitches. You waver.
Then the screen of your phone lights up with a notification.
Refusing to look lest you cave, emotions too fresh -  scraped raw and tender, you switch on DND and turn it face down where it will remain until you go home.
You're far too fragile (and sober) to think about reading Jungkook’s reply, let alone engage with him in any meaningful way.
“I’ll take a double vodka cranberry.”
Maybe if you get drunk enough, you'll forget about the home he carved in your bones.
Bottoms up, bitch.
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w8 nvm guys cnt make it
y/n?
i cn b ovr in 10
???
gn ttyt
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hey, sorry. called it early.
wyd?
nothing much. you?
nm running some mtchs
cool, cool. you able to swing by today?
yeh b there in 30 :)
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In hindsight, trying to have this conversation with Jungkook face to face isn’t the brightest idea. But if anything, last night showed you every choice you’ve made lately is a disaster waiting to happen.
Your life’s already a mess - and you’re hopelessly in love with a man that’ll never love you back - so what’s another mistake added to a long string of misfortune.
So what if your hands tremble and your stomach churns as you unlock the door to let him in.
So what if he leans in for a kiss and you duck to the side, his lips brushing the slope of your cheek.
So what if he pauses and gives you a long, searching look before toeing off his shoes and offering you the drink he picked up on the way.
It can’t get any worse, right?
Only the hungry, molten mixture of rage and rebellion fueling you thus far fizzles away the minute you see him head towards your bedroom with a wink.
Anguish and despair follows in its wake, nipping at your heels.
This is all you’ll ever be to him, you remind yourself as you step into the room. A fun time. Nothing serious. You have to break it off.
You shoot him a tight smile. “Did you have a good night?”
Jungkook shrugs, glancing around at the decorations littering your dresser. “Nah, not really.” His gaze slides to you, traveling from your head to your bare toes in a slow once over. “I definitely would’ve had a better time with you.”
Swallowing roughly, you rub your hands over your arms and suddenly feel far too naked - exposed in your light summer dress. “Hah,” you intone without humor, awkward and stilted. “Probably not. I was out by 11:30.”
“Mm, that’s not like you.” Jungkook hums, moving forward until he’s right in front of you. His hands reach for you, grabbing your wrists gently. His thumb strokes over your pulse point. “You’re acting weird. Is there something you want to talk about, baby?”
Of course he’d notice.
It would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing. Jungkook always pays attention to the details, makes leaps of logic based on little more than quiet observations.
You stitch together a chuckle. “Nothing gets past you, huh?”
His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins, his lip ring dimpling the swell of his bottom lip. Your chests brush with every inhale, sharing space and breath. 
“Nothing,” he agrees.
It’s torture. It’s too intimate.
The glow of your overhead lamp highlights the sweep of his cheekbones, the curl of his lashes as he blinks slow and happy. The barely there impression of his body is too much.
You shrink back, clearing your throat.
“No, don’t do that. Where are you going?”
His eyes, shimmering with warmth, plead with you to stay, his shoulders curving towards you. A large palm settles over your shoulder, sparks igniting wherever he touches.
“Stop hiding. You can talk to me about anything. Come on, I want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”
Steeling your resolve, you inhale and exhale with a shudder. His expression is open, soft. You know it won’t last, and take a few seconds to commit how he looks in this moment to memory.
For all you know, this will be one of the last times you’ll be this close to him again. At least until you can beat your feelings into submission.
And then you can’t put it off anymore, unable to take the ginger strokes of his fingers. The calming caresses as if he thinks you’re something precious. Quick like ripping off a band-aid, otherwise the words will never get past the bend of your throat.
“I want to stop.”
You catch the way his eyes darken, sharpen in the dim overhead light. He knows exactly what you’re talking about, but his half-smile never falters.
Of course, he refuses to make this easy on you. To acknowledge this is happening. He’s always been a greedy man; wants what he can’t have, and destroys what he does.
“Stop what?” Jungkook says. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, baby.”
“Kook,” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “You know what I mean. I just - I can’t do,” your voice cracks, a hand motioning to the space between you, “this anymore.”
A vein throbs on the side of his neck, his jaw working in response. Muscles tense and release with every grit of his teeth. He asks, “You gonna tell me why, huh? Or are you just going to ditch me and act like it didn’t mean something?”
“Kook…”
There’s a certain grief that can’t be spoken, gnarled roots burrowing deep in your chest. A sense of loss so keenly felt it almost steals your breath.
You wish this wasn’t happening, you wish you could take it all back but this pantomime of a relationship isn’t fair to you. Not anymore. And you knew this conversation wouldn’t be fun, but Jungkook’s staunch denial still manages to surprise you.
“It didn’t mean anything though,” you say.
At least, not to you, you think. To me, it meant the world.
-- And that’s the problem.
You need to stop whatever this is between you from building. He’s already shown he doesn’t share your desire for more in a multitude of ways. He’s been avoiding you for a reason, whether he was consciously aware of your feelings or not.
Undoubtedly, you trust him with your life but not your heart.
As sweet as he is, has been, he won’t treat it gently. Not through any intentional ill-will but because he can’t contain his own commitment issues let alone make room for yours.
It’s better this way.
Let what you have - had - stay a memory unmarred by the ugliness of your hurt feelings and bitter disappointments.
Jungkook’s shoulders draw up towards his ears, his gaze glacial as his hands slide away from you. “Is there a reason you’re done with me now?”
Shadows lurk in the depths of his eyes, his lips curled into a cruel smirk. Everything about him looks weighted down.
“Well, is there? I mean, shit, I think I’ve earned an answer after all the time we spent together.”
Your heart breaks for him, everything in you calling out to close the gap and offer him comfort. But you can’t. You don’t trust yourself to touch him without wanting more than your heart can bear.
“I’m not done with you,” you say. “I would never do that to you, Kook. I just - I can’t be with you like that anymore, that’s all. I need space but I’ll still be around, I promise.”
The glare he shoots your way freezes the blood in your veins. “Cut the bullshit,” he snarls. “Tell.me.why.”
You avert your gaze, arms wrapping around your chest. “Why does that - I -”
You only had one rule at the very beginning of this mess: if there’s someone you’re serious about, you stop fucking. It comes as a handy lie - a believable excuse that’ll stop any further questioning.
You don’t think you have the fortitude if Jungkook keeps pressing you, cracking under the weight of your grief and the anger in his eyes like fine china.
“I think I - I think I want to start looking for a boyfriend again.”
An expression flashes across his face, there and gone in the blink of an eye. But there’s no doubt he recognizes it for the goodbye it’s supposed to be.
This is it, you think.
You can put what you had to rest and move on, a memory on a shelf you’ll dust off years down the line when the hurt isn’t so prevalent. And hopefully, with time, you can relearn how to be friends.
Though the strange gleam to his eyes sends a prickle of apprehension down your spine, and then you find yourself being manhandled as he snaps forward like a snake coiled to strike.
Air flees your lungs as Jungkook shoves you with a firm palm, your feet stumbling over themselves as you trip backwards into your bed frame.
Wood knocks into the backs of your knees, and you fold like a stack of cards. The sheets puff out around you, the scent of your laundry detergent tickling your nose.
You blink at the textured ceiling, mouth agape as you try to process what happened.
The empty space above you doesn’t stay vacant, Jungkook quickly crowding you into the mattress with his weight as he settles over top of your body.
He molds himself to your front, his firm hips slotting themselves between your thighs. Broad palms, warm and calloused, skim your sides and ruck up the skirt of your dress as he reaches under you to grip the soft globes of your ass.
He yanks you into him, your pelvises slotting together. You whine before you can stop yourself, eyes fluttering shut at the heat of his body.
Teeth scrape along the delicate skin of your neck, the sharp pricks of pleasure-pain coaxing a shiver down your spine.
Lips brush the shell of your ear, his minty breath puffing against the side of your face as he speaks, low and husky, “So that’s it, huh?”
“What--!”
Teeth nip your earlobe, and you wince.
“My girl thinks she’s going to leave me for someone else?” Jungkook snorts. “Like I’d ever let that fucking happen.”
“I’m not your girl.”
You squirm, a bolt of awareness slicing through you as your body responds to his proximity, the weight of him over you electrifying. Liquid desire blooms behind your navel, uncomfortable and unwelcome.
“I never was.”
Blunt nails dig into the fat of your ass, and a cruel mouth latches onto the corner of your jaw. “Ah, is that right?” Jungkook asks, the rumble of his voice vibrating through your torso, your nipples tightening as they drag over the plains of his chest. “You’re not my girl?”
You swallow, and ignore the throb of your clit as the line of his cock ruts into you. “I’m not your girl, Jungkook.”
“If you’re not my girl,” he grinds into the cradle of your hips, teasing - taunting, “then why the fuck are you so wet?”
Keening, you twitch, involuntarily rocking up into the firm pressure of his shaft. The angle’s just right, spreading your folds beneath the thin cotton of your panties and giving your neglected clit the perfect stimulation.
Exposing your soaked core to the chill of your room as your body warms with mortification.
Jungkook hums in approval, giving the side of your neck a sloppy kiss followed by a stinging nip. “You think some nobody can fuck you better than me?”
“That’s not what I - ffuck!”
Heat pools low in your belly, blood pumping fast. You’re steadily losing control, the aborted rolls of your hips increasing in frequency.
“Answer me.”
A sharp burst of copper floods your mouth, your skin splitting open with how hard you’re chewing on it. Blood clings to the swell of your bottom lip, a ruby red bead you lick away with a nervous tongue.
Sweat dappled your brow, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the molten desire curdling your stomach.
The softness of your body knows the hardness of his, every curve has a matching divot. The heady, pleasant scent of his cologne floods your lungs with every stuttered inhale.
Your senses are overwhelmed as he surrounds you.
“Shit, Kook, please,” you plead, hands tangling in the sheets by your head.
You’re not sure what you’re asking for but at the same time, you’re not sure how you ended up here. Again.
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
This was supposed to be an amenable end to a dubious affair. It’s anything but.
“I want you to tell me who your cunt belongs to.”
Fingers inch down to tease along the soft flesh of your inner thighs, and play with the elastic of your panties.
You tremble, gooseflesh dimpling the exposed skin of your arms as knuckles brush over the length of your soaked pussy.
Your clit pulses, the pressure enough to tease.
“Come on, baby,” Jungkook coaxes, working his way beneath the fabric clinging to your core, “tell me you’re my girl.”
His cock nestles into the crook of your hip, hot and heavy through his jeans as a darkened patch blooms across the denim crotch. The sticky wetness of his pre-cum smearing into your skin as arousal swells, crashing over you.
Leaving you a whimpering, trembling mess in the cage of his arms.
“You just have to say it - say you’re my girl and I’ll be so, so good to you.” His breath warms the shell of your ear. “All you have to do is say it, and I’ll make you cum so hard you see stars.”
Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to cobble together a response, sliding a thick finger through your sticky folds and into your needy pussy just as your lips part.
All words leave you, your mind wiped clean as a low, broken cry echoes out into the room. Swallowed up by the sounds of city life outside your apartment as he works to stretch you open.
You clamp down at the sudden fullness, walls tight and fluttering around his finger like they would be around his cock.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You always feel so soft and wet.”
Whining in agreement, you give up any pretense of resistance, letting primal desire chase away the despair, the guilt that threatens to choke you. Wiping your mind clean of any thoughts until the only thing that remains is the thrust of his fingers and the ache in your cunt.
Your hands slip, scrambling for purchase with sweaty palms. “J-Jungkook!”
Your knees tremble where they dig into his sides, air rushing from you in heavy pants as the space between your bodies heats up. You know you won’t last long, already hanging on the edge.
Never in a million years did you expect to be so turned on by Jungkook’s rough behavior. He usually treats you like something delicate.
Though he holds no such compunction now, raw in his desperate desire to make you cum.
Jungkook peppers kisses onto whatever skin he can reach, spreading your thighs wider with his torso. His knuckles strain against the fabric of your panties, stretching out the cotton and ruining them forevermore as he slips another finger into you.
Then his dark head bows, catching your gaze, and he says, “Hold on.”
Barely seconds after you anchor yourself to his shoulders, he starts finger fucking you to within an inch of your life. His forearm ripples with strength, the movements of his fingers pressing and rubbing against all the right spots. Curling up to massage at your g-spot until you’re shaking beneath him with hitched breaths.
“Shit, shit,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as your toes flex against his side, “Kook, baby, please don’t stop.”
He huffs a laugh, dark and amused. “Wouldn’t ever do that to you, baby.”
“S’good - I - I’m close.”
You sob, tears brimming along your lash line. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your pussy ring in your ears, as embarrassing as it is arousing. He’s making you gush, slick wetting your inner thighs, dribbling down your ass to stain the sheets.
“So close, gonna - hnnng - gonna cum.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that, baby. Give me that squirt.”
You shake your head. “I can’t - I can’t!”
If you could, you’d suspend time so this moment never ends. The finality of your arrangement hovering just on the other side of pleasure.
In the back of your mind, you know Jungkook’s only behaving this way because he’s jealous. Angry. He doesn’t mean it, and this is a mistake.
It’ll only hurt you in the long run but you’ll take what you can get.
After all, this is the last time you’ll be together like this.
“No,” he shushes, dropping a kiss to your sweaty brow, “No, don’t lie. I know you can. I’ll make you.”
There’s no escape.
He refuses to let you escape, using his weight to keep you pinned as he spreads his fingers open inside you, twisting and fucking so deep you feel a twinge behind your navel.
And then you’re right there, crashing over the edge as the bubble of pleasure bursts, crackling through your limbs.
You cum harder than you ever have before. Nails sinking into his shoulders with a hiss as a wounded, broken wail scrapes its way out of your throat.
Your pussy throbs, gummy walls sucking him deeper as a rush of cum gushes from you in spurts. Your ears ring with white noise, and you’re vaguely aware of the fact your hands have gone numb.
For several long moments, you float with a head full of cotton, only rejoining the atmosphere when warmth dribbles down your ass in sticky rivulets of squirt.
Jungkook’s arm is curled around your waist, holding you close as his nose nuzzles into the side of your head. Tender lips dust kisses over your crown. His cock is still a heavy weight digging into your hip but he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to relieve himself.
“Jungkook,” you sigh, a wave of fatigue crashing over you. Your eyes sting when you close them, a lump building in your throat. You ache all over pleasantly, satisfaction settling deep into your bones. In spite of that, a rift opens in your heart. “Jungkook, I--”
He kisses your shoulder, shushing you. “Don’t ruin it. Just let me hold you for a little while longer… please.”
The tears are almost impossible to stop. “It’s already hard enough, don’t make me -- I can’t just…”
Jungkook squeezes you gently. “I love you,” he says, “but I swear to god you can be so stupid sometimes.”
You jolt, eyes swinging up to meet his, wide and disbelieving. “What did you just  - I - I  don’t. ..Jungkook?”
“How could I not feel the same?” he asks, tone resigned and wary. “Honestly scared the shit out of me when I realized because, well, y’know I don’t have the best track record.” He averts his gaze, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I almost fucked everything up too, but Namjoonie-hyung helped me get my head on straight.”
Something unfurls in your chest, and you feel as light as air. Ridiculously buoyant with happiness. Hope.
Oh, how stupid.
“We’re kind of idiots, aren’t we?” you ask, sniffling as you shoot him a watery smile. “Like… the biggest.”
Jungkook hums in agreement, a boyish gleam to his eyes. “I mean, you said it. Not me.”
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shewrites444 · 8 months
Text
arranged [thomas shelby x reader smut]
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[ i’ve never written about one of cillian murphy’s characters but oppenheimer has me feeling a bit inspired lately. i haven’t watched peaky blinders in ages, so apologizes if it’s not completely accurate to the storyline. ]
[update: arranged part 2 ]
word count - 2.1k
[ summary - the reader and tommy agree to an arranged marriage that suits both of their needs. despite their disliking of each other, the two seem quite fond of each other in the bedroom, especially on their wedding night. ]
[ warnings - enemies to lovers trope that includes unprotected sex, oral, roughness, etc ]
-
thomas shelby was the last man i ever imagined myself being wedded to, but when my father unexpectedly passed and i no longer had the protection of his people, i had to find another way to make sure i wouldn’t be a victim to any gangs of birmingham - including the peaky blinders.
of course, tommy would never have married me if there wasn’t something i could offer him in return - that happened to be a ton of inherited money from my father, and several breweries i now technically owned, and numerous meeting spots that only i knew about, that the coppers would never find him or his family at, during anytime of the day.
despite the convenience of our arrangement, there was nothing favorable for either of us past the business side of things. our families had been at each other’s throats for years and now that my father was gone, a lot of that tension was, but nevertheless, you can’t expect a peaky blinder to not hold a grudge, even on their wedding night.
“see, that wasn’t so bad.” i mutter to my newly wed husband, walking into the dimly lit bedroom as i took off my white heels, setting them aside the now shut door. i watch as tommy began to unbutton his white dress shirt, and i sigh to myself, but loud enough to quirk his brow.
i tuck my hair behind my ears, walking to the bed and pulling the sheets down to prepare for what would hopefully be a fairly long sleep, given that i’d prefer not think much about who i was now standing across from.
“you don’t have to stay in here tonight if you don’t want to or even at all, tommy. you already have children and i’m aware you don’t want more, and frankly, i don’t want any, so just lie and tell polly the marriage was consummated tomorrow morning. go on.” i gesture my hand up and towards the door, watching his blank expression as i spoke in a more demanding, harsh manner.
he walked towards the bed, untucking his side, his shirt now unbuttoned and his toned, pale body at my exposure, which only made my cheeks redden as the muscles flexed with his movements. i may have despised the man for his profession, but it’s not like he wasn’t physically attractive.
“i may not be so found of you, mrs. shelby, but i do keep my marriage duties, at least to sleep beside you.” he says plainly, sitting down on the white sheets before looking up to me with a teasing expression. it almost felt wrong to see him show any emotion besides, well, none. “now, do i have to make you turn around while i fuck you, or can you bare the sight of me while doing so?”
i roll my eyes with a smirk, laying down and hovering my face above his before biting my bottom lip, glancing at his own with a bit of temptation, but nothing i couldn’t ignore for the sake of my ego. “i’m shocked you even asked to touch me, mr. shelby. peaky blinders have always seemed so forward with what they want.”
he tilted his head, his well-groomed hair bouncing lightly at the movement, now reaching over to hold the back of my neck, running his fingertips through the ends of my hair. “would you prefer i not ask? you didn’t strike me as the type of woman who’d prefer to be fucked like an animal.”
“you didn’t strike me as the type of man to wait until we were wed to even discuss sex, so we’re both a bit surprised. have you been distracted with other women through our engagement, dear husband?”
he scoffed at my comment, sitting up and leaning himself down to peck at my neck lightly, his heated breath against my tingling skin, a pit forming in my stomach at the touch he never dared grant me until now.
“you never gave me any suggestion to fuck before tonight, [y/n]. i assumed you wouldn’t allow me to lay a finger on you. this all seemed like a business opportunity, a plan for protection and financies, nothing more.” he muttered through his kisses, trailing his lips down to my covered chest before looking up to me again. “so, how about i ask you like a gentlemen, mrs. shelby. is this for business, or not?”
i shrug softly, glancing down to meet his seductive, icy blue eyes. “i think i’ll be able to tell if it is or not when you fuck me, mr. shelby."
he reached over to pull me on top of him, grabbing the white gown that dressed me and helping me to slip it off my core and past my arms, tossing it to the floor, which exposed me in nothing but my underwear, my breasts falling out of the fabric and resting before him. he took one hand to hold my back, the other cupping one breast and his thumb flicking at the hardening nipple. i feel him push me down, his lips attaching to the bud as i let out a soft moan, shocked by how sensual thomas shelby could be if directed to do so.
i could feel the bulge in his pants growing, beginning to grind myself against the black pants while he fondled my breasts with his mouth and free hand, the other that was once on my back now guiding itself down to my ass. he pulled himself away from my breast, panting softly to himself as the tension began to increase between our moving bodies.
“take off your panties and lay down on your back, won't you.” he said to me in a more demanding tone. i stood up and did so, spreading my legs before him as he undressed himself at the side of the bed, soon leaning down in front of me.
i chew my bottom lip at the sight of the man before me, but gasp as his tongue links to my clit, swirling and flicking around the sensitive bud of skin, while i only grow wetter through his touch and the saliva that collected against my entrance. i reach down to hold his head of black hair, my other hand resting against my chest while he continued to give me nothing but pleasure.
“this… this doesn’t seem… like b-business to me…” i stutter my words, my back arching at every sensitive touch he brought to my body. my words made him pull away, a smirk on his wet lips as he stuck one finger inside of me, pumping and curling it slowly enough to draw a loud moan from my lips before pulling it out right after.
he leaned down and gestured for me to open my mouth, sticking his finger inside for me to taste my own juices before pulling it out and licking it himself.
“neither does this, how wet you are for me. are you sure you want to take back the consummation of our arrangement, hm? it seems you like my tongue, mrs. shelby. do you think i’ll like yours?” he grinned, standing up and pointing his full erection towards me, holding it in one hand as i sat up on the bed.
i blush, getting off of the bed and onto my knees before him. i take his length into one hand, pumping it slowly as i look up to him, our eyes locked when i lean forward and take his tip into mouth, a heavy sigh coming from his lips as i begin to suck him off. he was thick and much longer than any man i’d ever been with, and frankly, if we were to sleep together tonight, i was a bit nervous of how my body would take him and the aftermath of it all tomorrow morning.
“fuck, fill your throat with me, [y/n]..” he moaned, both hands holding the back of my head as he thrusted himself towards my face. i took his cock down my throat, my eyes closing almost immediately as a tear runs down my cheek from the unexpected penetration, moving my head back and forth as his balls slap against my wet chin.
he tilted his head, mouth hung open as he watched me take him down my throat. i could hear his breath cutting short each time he thrusted, his cock twitching inside my mouth as he edged himself through each stroke. when he could tell through my reddening expression and glossy eyes that i was a bit overstimulated, he slowly pulled himself out of my mouth, leaning down to help me back on my feet and onto the bed.
he kneeled down before me, grabbing my face with both hands and pressing a passionate kiss against my lips, his tongue pushing itself into my mouth, which distracted me from the way he was moving my body off the bed again. he wraps his arms around me and guides me across the room and to the dresser, where he then breaks the kiss and turns me around, bending my body against the wood to where i made eye contact with the mirror that connected the furniture.
"i think this is worth the watch, don't you?" he teases, a devilish smirk across his face as he takes my neck in one hand, the other trailing before my pussy, his index and middle fingers attaching to my clit as he pushes himself inside of me without warning.
i gasp, watching my mouth open as he begins to fuck me, hard, against the dresser. the stimulation above my insides didn't make this any easier to take, given the fact i could already feeling my climax building in a matter of seconds.
i rest both palms against the wood, watching tommy's lips trail to my shoulder as he kissed against my sweating skin, leaving fresh hickeys from time to time, marking me like i was more than just an arrangement to him. if anything, this showed me that thomas shelby may not favor me, but he sure wanted the world to know i was his wife, and no one else's.
"i could fuck you all day, [y/n]. nothing fucking... compares to... how good you feel, fuck.." he muttered between kisses, looking up to meet my eyes in the mirror, his hand moving from my neck to hold my left breast tightly, halting it from bouncing throughout his thrusts. "do you feel me as much as i feel you?"
i nod, mouth still hung open, unable to even speak a word as tommy pulled my body closer, his fingers digging into my clit and forcing me to arch my back down, my ass pressing against him and causing even harsher friction between our bodies while he quickened his pace at the touch, the sound of our skin slapping together overpowering the bedroom.
i suddenly feel his arm wrap around my waist, and then the other, holding me so close and his body leaned so far down my back was touching his core. he thrusted deeper, further than what i even thought was possible for him to go, and so much so to the point i was in immense pain, but god, it felt so fucking good. his cock overpowered my entire body, and i felt my orgasm rushing to the surface, fluids leaking out from inside of me past himself and dripping between my legs, his own orgasm filling my insides within a matter of seconds after.
i feel him slide out of me, catching his own breath and helping turn me around to face him. he takes my hand and places the other on my back, guiding me to the bed once more and laying me down, pulling the sheet on top of me to cover my stomach down, my breasts exposed to the cold air. i feel his lips against my chest, lightly kissing from my nipples, to my shoulders, to my neck, and to my lips, once more. he smiles softly, and genuinely, to me, before snapping out of his sappy mood to grab a cigarette from the nightstand, lighting it.
"do you think we'll be doing this again?" he asks quietly, handing me the cigarette. "doesn't seem like it would be a negative thing to add to our arrangement, eh?"
i smirk, blowing the smoke out from my lips and towards the ceiling. "i wouldn't be opposed, but if you fuck me that hard every time, i'm not sure i would be able to get out of bed the next morning."
he chuckled to himself, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed, sliding himself into the sheets and putting out the cigar. he took me into his arms, lighting running his hand across my hair. "we can see about that. goodnight, mrs. shelby."
i rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes and smiling to myself, partially hoping tommy wouldn't see my vunerability.
"goodnight, mr. shelby."
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sailortongue · 7 months
Text
Wingteam
pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
wc: ~1.5k
summary: the team decides that Spencer is in need of a date and they're going to be the ones to help him. But there's just one problem that the team doesn't know about: Spencer already has a girlfriend
a/n: this is my first time writing for criminal minds so they're probably all out of character but pls bear with me. binged the first four seasons in a month and i'm completely hooked on the show and spencer so hopefully i'll write more and improve characterization. any feedback would be super appreciated!
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Spencer Reid was a rather private person, preferring to keep his private life just that: private. But it was getting progressively harder to explain why he didn't want to participate in group outings to the local bars. Truth be told, all he wanted was to get home to you and cuddle on the couch. Not that his teammates knew you even existed. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you! No, never. How could he ever be ashamed of the most wonderful thing in his life? No, it was because he knew he'd never hear the end of the teasing, especially from Morgan. And so he had decided that he would keep you all to himself, after discussing with you, of course. You had no issue with him not disclosing your relationship with his coworkers. However, it was this secrecy that led him to this horribly uncomfortable moment.
“You don't get to weasel out this time, pretty boy. You're coming with us even if I have to manhandle you there,” said Morgan. “And you're not leaving that bar without a girl on your arm,” he added, finger pointed at Reid in an accusatory manner.
It took all of Spencer’s willpower to not outwardly grimace. Like hell he was going to leave with any girl that wasn't you. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now,” he declined. It wasn't exactly a lie; he was already in a relationship, afterall.
“Oh, c’mon, Spence, don't you want to settle down one day?” chimed in Emily. “I bet you'd be an amazing husband.” She redirected her attention, “We just have to find the future Mrs. Reid, right Morgan?”
Morgan smirked, “Sounds like a plan.”
“No. There is no plan. Stop scheming. I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship. And even if I was, I don't think I’d need a team of FBI agents to help me get a date,” Spencer tried to discourage his friends, but to no avail. In fact, it just seemed to egg them on.
“Reid, I’ve never seen you go out with anyone. We’re getting you laid tonight and there's nothing you can do about it.”
“Never seen me go out with anyone? Should I be inviting you along to my dates?”
The sarcasm wasn't lost on Morgan, who rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.” He turned to look at Garcia, “Hey, babygirl, you wanna help us land Reid a date?” The grin that Morgan had whilst asking was soon mirrored by the technical analyst in question.
“Do you even have to ask, sugar?”
A quick glance around the bullpen at his gathered teammates told him that no one was going to help him get out of this. Spencer’s expression changed to one of panic, but not for the reason that his friends assumed, i.e. that he had no experience with girls and was just nervous. Much to his chagrin, Hotch made a different deduction, and whilst everyone else was discussing their plan for later that night, he leaned down to Reid, “Why don't you just tell them you have a girlfriend already?”
Spencer, who was nowhere near as skilled as Hotch at hiding his emotions, had shock written all over his face. He opened his mouth to question how Hotch knew that, not even bothering to deny it. But Hotch answered before Spencer could even ask the question. “I’m a profiler. To be honest, I'm surprised the rest of the team hasn’t figured it out. Rossi has a suspicion, though.” And with that, Hotch stood back up to his full height and resumed conversation with the team, asking what time they had decided to meet.
I’m so screwed thought Spencer.
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“I’m so screwed,” Spencer announced to you as soon as he walked into your shared apartment, dropping his satchel in the entryway. You looked up from the book you were currently reading, “What happened? Are you okay?” You closed your book and set it on the coffee table, giving your perfect boyfriend your full attention. He sighed and joined you where you were reclined on the couch, lying down and placing his head on your tummy, wrapping his arms around you in the process. You smiled down at him gently and brought your hand up to play with his curls, eliciting a satisfied groan from him. “What's eating you, Spence?”
He tilted his head up before answering, “I have to meet the team at a bar later tonight.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, not seeing what the issue could possibly be. “Ok? Why is that a problem?”
He adjusted himself to be propped up on his elbows on either side of you. “It’s a problem because they've all decided that I'm in need of a girlfriend,” he huffed. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't contain your laughter at Spencer’s obvious distress over the situation. You truly meant no offense, but he was just so gosh darn cute.
“Spencer, sweetheart, why don't you just tell them?”
“Honestly, at this point I just want to see how long it takes them to figure it out without me outright telling them. We're not supposed to profile each other, but it becomes second nature due to the job, so they're bound to pick up on it eventually. Hotch already knows, and he said that Rossi is suspicious. The others haven't caught on yet, but now Morgan wants to be my wingman for the night. How am I supposed to play this off?”
You thought about it for a second before an idea came to mind, a sly grin sliding across the features Spencer loved oh so much. “You're going to do exactly what Morgan wants.”
Spencer blanched, immediately objecting to your words. How could you even suggest that?
“Hold on, I’m not done. I’m not sending the love of my life out to flirt with anyone that isn't me. So what we’re gonna do is….
--------
“Oh, what's this? Did pretty boy find a pretty girl?” teased Derek. His friend practically looked like those wolves from vintage cartoons with hearts for eyes and tongue rolling out of their mouths. His question caught the attention of the rest of the table, all of whom saw Spencer with his eyes trained on a lovely young woman sitting at the bar.
“You should go talk to her!” encouraged Penelope.
“Oh, she's so pretty!” exclaimed JJ. “I agree with Pen, you should definitely go talk to her!”
Hotch watched as the rest of the team, all at least a few drinks in, hyped Spencer up with intoxicated enthusiasm. He had a barely-there smile on his face, watching the events unfold. He watched as Spencer’s face got redder and redder with the attention. As entertaining as this was for the others, it was infinitely more entertaining for Hotch, since he was certain that the woman at the bar was Spencer’s secret girlfriend.
Finally, Spencer gave in to his friends’ demands and approached the bar, seating himself beside the woman. Beside you. Knowing his friends were watching, he had to pretend as if he was meeting you for the first time.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he offered.
You glanced at him coyly before accepting his offer. At some point, the two of you fell into the usual rhythm of conversation you always had, speaking to each other in a way that betrayed how close you really were.
Back at the table, Rossi leaned over to Hotch and gestured for Hotch to lean in as well. “That's the kid’s girlfriend, isn't it?” he whispered. Hotch pulled back with an amused expression and gave the slightest nod, confirming Rossi’s question. Meanwhile, Morgan was placing a bet with Garcia about how long it would take for Reid to leave with you. Morgan was confident that it would be within the next thirty minutes, stating that Reid, who wasn't the most socially adept but was having such a lively conversation, must have really hit it off with you. They watched as Reid spoke to you, all smiles and wild hand gesticulations. And then there was you, the pretty woman who, unbeknownst to the team (minus Hotch and Rossi), was already irrevocably in love with their resident genius long before they took it upon themselves to be a whole wingteam. The radiant smile you wore matched the one Spencer had as you responded to him just as enthusiastically as he had been speaking.
Unfortunately for Garcia, Morgan won their bet. The two of them watched as Reid leaned in to whisper something in your ear. When he pulled away, there was a prominent blush on your face that the minimal amount of alcohol you had couldn't possibly be responsible for. You nodded at him, and he stood from his stool, offering his hand for you to take, which you did as you followed him to the exit.
“My man!” called Morgan from across the bar, raising his beer in Spencer’s direction. Hotch and Rossi chuckled, exchanging glances and shaking their heads. The rest would figure it out eventually. It might be when they receive a wedding invitation, but eventually nonetheless. 
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attractedtopeoples · 3 months
Text
Jake Webber NSFW Headcanons
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NSFW Alphabet
Tags/Warnings: mdni, smutty/suggestive stuff below the cut, don’t like don’t read, written with afab!reader in mind
Johnnie’s version here
A/N: hiya, im going insane should I do a Tara version???
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Aftercare (what’re they like afterwards)
King of post-sex sleepy cuddles but will definitely make sure your cleaned up and comfortable before he falls asleep, his head is most definitely on your chest as he sleeps too btw.
Body part (favourite of their partners, favourite of their own)
With a afab Partner, their tits. I’m really not going to explain this one too much bc I think it’s obvious (my guy mentions them every second video) but yh.
And it’s a touch odd but he loves his lower stomach, mainly bc you always trace the stars and now he mainly relates that tattoo with those memories of you.
Cum (all things to do w/ cum)
Opposite of Johnnie, loves to make a mess on you. Your stomach, back, tit’s, face- doesn’t matter, he loves it all. He does love being able to ‘clean up’ your tits though (he gets to leave hickeys and lovebites on his favourite part of you, he loves that shit)
Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
Absolutely a sucker for your nails scratching the back of his neck, or down his back. A bit of a masochist in the sense that he likes small twinges of pain. small enough to not hurt badly- but enough to remind him of you whenever he traces them.
Experience (are they experienced? do they know what they’re doing? etc.)
I’d say average amount of experience, but doesn’t ever brag (other than silly jokes abt getting more bitches than Johnnie), however he has assets, and he knows how to use them, and he uses them well.
Favourite Position (Self-explanatory)
Definitely a sucker for you riding him (cowgirl), and loves to watch your tits bounce along with you.
After a bit he’ll lose patience and help you out a touch, pulling you down onto his chest or swapping positions so your legs are around his waist as he’s pinning you down.
Goofy (are they more serious or silly during the moment?)
Again I feel like a mix between both, but more of a lean into silly, and he loves to tease at the same time.
Hair (are they groomed, do they care if you’re groomed, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)
Doesn’t care if your shaved and doesn’t bother shaving unless you specifically ask him too, he simply doesn’t see the point in shaving- it’s just hair.
again, it’s a touch darker than his natural hair, but o her than that it does match.
Intimacy (are they romantic in the moment?)
He’s definitely the type to mutter love confessions into your neck- either as you cuddle or fuck- it doesn’t matter, he loves being so close to you and being able to be honest with you about his feelings- plus the ability to give you a few hickeys as he does is a bonus.
Jack Off (Masturbation headcanons)
Horny bastard, but he’s usually confident/comfortable enough to tell you so it’s rare that he jacks off, but it’s not entirely uncommon
maybe once/twice a week as a most/average
Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Face Sitting- loves to have you on his face, it’s quite simple. (He also loves your thighs, so win-win)
Praise- he likes to give and receive this one, but you’ll find it more common to receive this one after a good day, and giving it to him after a bad one
Bondage- rarely but he likes to have his hands tied together behind his back- not being allowed to touch you as a form of punishment- a truly cruel one bc he’s naturally a very touchy person, especially so in these moments.
Switch- he leans more towards dominance but is fine with subbing every now and then.
Location (preference in terms of place)
Does not care. At all. (That’s a lie, there are obviously some no-no’s but you get the point). He does prefer places where you can both be comfortable (mainly you)
Motivation (what turns them on)
You.
He’s such a simp it’s not funny (it is), and he’s so sensitive to touch as well, a truly incredible combo- especially if you feel like being a bit of a tease.
No (turn offs/hard no’s, what they won’t do)
Similar to Johnnie, nothing that he fees could seriously injure you, and definitely nothing where you’d be even slightly uncomfortable. He might try but he doesn’t really understand why. (No matter how much he jokes about Johnnie spanking him)
Oral (preference in giving/receiving, skill, etc)
A bit if both honestly, great at giving, and extremely careful not to hurt you when receiving. A very ‘in-the-middle’ guy when it comes to giving and receiving head.
Pace (what pace do they go at during sex)
He tends to do slightly above average speed, but always deeper- and sweet Jesus is he good at knowing what you want. Whether it be wanting more or less he is very observant and is usually able to adjust rather quickly to what you need/ask for.
Quickie (opinions on quickies)
Dislikes them, only because he likes the patience he can have as he kisses you and your body, borderline body worship every time because ‘that’s what you deserve’ (his words)
Again, wouldn’t say no but would simply prefer to wait until you guys could be alone and take your time with each other.
Risk (are they down to experiment? Do they take risks in their sex life?)
I think he is willing to try anything you ask, but otherwise would default to what he knows. And in terms of doing something in public, well he wouldn’t say no.
Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
This guy has some stamina, I’d say 3-4 rounds before he starts to tire out, but similar to Johnnie he’s very willing to give head if your not done.
Toys (do they own them? do they use them?)
I think he owns them, but hasn’t really used them on himself. If his partner wanted to use them on him- go for it, but he’s never found the need to use them himself. He is also fine with using them on his partner.
Unfair (do they like to tease?)
Definitely. This man might not be exceedingly patient, but in terms of this, he could tease/edge for hours before giving in to what you’re asking.
Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make, etc)
I feel like he isn’t overly loud, but not overly quiet either. It entirely depends on the situation and what’s going on. Definitely a groaner but I’m not really gonna describe sounds more than that.
Wild Card (random headcanon)
I loves when you trace his tattoo’s, both in the moment and outside of it, he loves watching your face as you focus on tracing each one.
X-Ray (what’s going on under the clothes)
7 inches, slightly leans to the right, no more explaining.
#E7D8C0 > #F2CFBE
Yearning (how high/low is their sex drive?)
Above Average, about 4+ a week, but if yours is higher or lower he adapts to it easily.
Zzz (how quick they fall asleep after)
He makes sure that your comfortable and all aftercare has been sorted out, but then the second he closes his eyes he’s out like a light.
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kamotecue · 6 months
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from strangers to friends—friends into lovers (and now we’re strangers again) ✬ m. leon
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pairing: mapi leon x reader
summary: you were the center-back’s first love, yet you couldn’t really act upon it. how could you, a royal and a commoner?
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you felt someone wrap their tiny hand around the pinky of your finger, it was astrid—you’re only daughter the heiress to the swedish throne. a soft smile was worn upon your face, as you heard her hum to one of your favorite songs.
you looked beside her only to see her twin brother, andres who followed suit—carrying a small bag, his sister’s to be exact. she had always been a fan of sweets, something she had gotten from you. her brother however, preferred something sour—but was never one to deny a treat from his sister.
“du gillade aldrig riktigt att ta pauser, mamma. [you never really liked taking breaks, mom.]” andres commented, as you chuckled. they were right—ever since the tragedy that happened to the swedish monarch, you were held up in the office.
but you always managed to have time for the mischievous duo. they’d love to play pranks on you, you would never get mad but instead have a laugh about it.
“jag kanske inte gillar att ta pauser, men om det är med er två—skulle jag ta en paus när som helst. [i may not like taking breaks, but if it’s with the two of you—i’d take a break anytime.]” you chuckled as andres gave you a small hum, clearly satisfied with your answer.
“kan jag spela på stranden, mamma? [can i play on the beach, mom?]” you heard andres asked, as you gave him a soft look before nodding.
he cheered brightly before rushing, the assigned bodyguard followed suit—ensuring his safety as you snickered.
“var försiktig! [be careful!]” he looked back before giving you a nod. you looked down to see astrid looking at her brother with a soft look—the best duo you’ve ever known.
“mamma, kan vi få glass? [mom, can we have ice cream?]” you gave her a hum, clearly thinking about it before giving her a small yes.
you gave a small nod to a bodyguard, as he returned it, heading to the beach to catch up to your son. you were in disbelief of what was yet to come, memories that you desperately tried so hard to hide.
meanwhile, on the beach a small child was walking around—finding the perfect place to build a sand castle. the two bodyguards were always five steps behind, but it was enough to catch attention from people they passed by.
but a soft oof was heard as andres had accidentally bumped into someone, sending him to the sand. isak, his personal guard’s eyes widens as he rushed forward kneeling on the sand—as he analyzed the young heir.
“är du okej, din höghet? [are you okay, your highness?]” isak’s soft voice was heard, as andres gave him a small nod. he helped the prince up, carefully dusting off the sand that resided in his hair.
“tack, isak. [thank you, isak.]” a lopsided grin was shown on the prince’s face, but a thankful expression was noticeable.
andres looked up to see a woman with a concerned look, but he had noticed the tattoo that was written on her neck—looks can be deceiving.
“are you alright?” she asked, her voice was soft yet filled with concern. but the young prince looked a bit gobsmacked.
“it’s you—you’re the one my mother talks about.” the swedish prince spoke in english, as isak hummed at the prince’s words. mapi looked at him in confusion, slightly tilting her head.
but with a slight pat on the back from her club teammate, frido gave him a formal bow—recognizing him from afar.
“ers höghet, jag ber om ursäkt för min vän. vi spelade fotboll och hon gick för att hämta bollen. [your highness, i apologize for my friend. we were playing football and she went to grab the ball.]” mapi who looked confused, yet flabbergasted at the swedish words clearly not understanding a thing.
the prince just hummed before giving frido a soft smile.
“det är okej, det var ingen skada. [it’s alright, there’s no harm.] however, it’s nice to finally meet you—maria leon.” the prince gave the spanish center back a soft smile, as frido hummed in confusion.
“how do you know me?” mapi asked, slowly pointing to herself as her attention was quickly brought somewhere else.
“broder, vad har du gjort nu? [brother, what have you done now?]” astrid slowly approached the scene followed by a pair of body guards as well. her pink dress stood out as the bodyguards wore suits, yet it fitted the future queen.
frido’s eyes widened a bit, as she gave the crown princess a formal bow—also pulling mapi in a bowing gesture. the barca players had watched from afar, not knowing if they should join or simply watch from afar in amusement.
“i would hear stories about you from my mother, y/n l/n. además, es imposible no conocer al central del barça. [furthermore, it’s impossible not to know the barça center back.]” mapi’s eyes widened at the mention of her first love—while frido looked absolutely stunned at the prince’s fluent spanish.
“jag tror inte att mamma skulle vara nöjd med det. [i don’t think mom would be happy with that.]” astrid said, as andres hummed at her sister’s words.
“pido disculpas por mi hermano gemelo, soy astrid l/n, es cierto que nuestra madre ha hablado de ti. [i apologize for my twin brother, i’m astrid l/n—but it’s true that our mother has talked about you.]” astrid said, holding her hand out—mapi softly shook it, still stunned by the fact that she met the children of her first love.
it was a sudden goodbye after all, you and mapi were childhood friends—almost turned into lovers. the reasons that she has yet to know.
“vi måste gå små, jag fick ett viktigt samtal. [we have to go little ones, i had an important call.]” your voice rang from afar, as you had gazed to where your children were. mapi’s eyes had interlocked with yours, as yours widened with realization.
frido had done a formal bow, it was her queen after all. yet you were shell shocked at the whole thing. little did you know, this wasn’t the last time that you’ll meet again.
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Text
Stuck in Planning Stage of Writing
Anonymous asked: Do you have any advice on how to get out of the planning stage and more into the doing stage of writing? I’m up to my ears in notes for scenes and fragments of dialogue between characters. I know where I want to go with the story, I’ve even written a handful of scenes when the ideas come to me, but now that I have this lump of thoughts I need to start organizing and placing them all in their rightful spaces. The one thing I truly know is how much I’d love to see this through. Do you have any advice for a girl who’s unwittingly made herself stuck with a puzzle?
[Ask edited for length]
Planning a novel can sometimes be like digging a really deep hole for a specific purpose, then suddenly realizing you've stranded yourself at the bottom of the hole without a ladder. You've spent so much time digging the hole, you'd like nothing more than to get out of the hole and move forward with whatever project required you to dig the hole in the first place. There's just one problem: you can't teleport yourself out of the hole. You have to climb... or, ideally, build yourself a ladder to climb out with whatever materials are available to you.
That's probably where you are right now with your story. The hole you've dug was necessary, and it's good that you dug it, but as much as you'd like to just magically leap out and write your story, you can't do that. You have to build yourself a ladder to climb out of the hole first. So...
My go-to emergency "get out of the planning hole I've dug myself into" ladders are timelines, scene lists, and outlines.
Timelines: Your story may take place over a single day or several centuries, but either way, time flows in your story. All of those notes and fragments of dialogue and partial scenes are moments or events that happen within the time frame of your story. So, plotting those moments and scenes out on a timeline--according to when they need to happen--is about the easiest way to break your story down into its existing pieces and to see what's missing/where.
There are lots of ways you can format a timeline, such as a table, a list, a horizontal timeline, calendar, or a roadmap timeline. My go-to is a basic two-column document where the left column is date/time and the right column is the moment/event. There are also apps and online tools that will help you build a timeline in various formats.
Horizontal Timeline:
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Calendar Timeline:
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Table Timeline:
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More info: Making a Timeline for Your Story Scene Lists: Stories are made up of scenes, so a list of those scenes is another great way to organize the events of your story. You may even find that creating a scene list is easier after making a timeline, because a timeline may help you see where certain moments or events need to be their own scenes and which can be combined together into a single scene. Just like timelines, scene lists can be as simple or complex as you want to make them. Once again, my go-to is a simple two-column document with the left column for the scene number and the right column for the scene summary, preferably just a sentence or two. Ultimately, once I have my rough timeline and scene list done, I usually combine them into one multi-column document along with my story structure beats.
Table Scene List with Beats:
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Complex Scene List/Timeline/Beat Sheet:
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More info: Scene Lists
Outlines: Outlines can be really any format you want them to be, and some people count timelines and scene lists as their outlines. My go-to outline is just an exhaustive beginning to end summary of everything that needs to happen. Sometimes, just working through your story from beginning to end can be the best way to make sense of all those disparate pieces you've been piling up.
More info: Guide: How to Outline a Plot Story Structure: Finally, I want to talk a bit about story structure templates like Save the Cat Writes a Novel!, Larry Brooks story structure, seven point story structure, etc. Story structure templates can be a really great way to make sure you're hitting all the right story beats--almost like a road map through your story. It's just important to know you do not by any means have to stick to any particular story structure exactly. Use it as a guide, take what works, leave what doesn't, and don't panic if your beats don't fall exactly where it says they should. As long as your story is working, that's what matters. Some writers even like to frankenplan their stories using a variety of different structure templates.
More info: Creating a Detailed Story Outline (story structure)
Once you finally have a roadmap for moving forward, whether that's a timeline, scene list, outline, or all of the above, you know you're ready to start writing!
Final note: I just want to add that planning isn't for everyone. Some people are discovery writers who let their stories work themselves out as they go. The above is just meant for people who are planners, who have done a lot of planning, but need to pull that planning together into a cohesive, organized document. And... if you have all of the above and still find yourself unable to start, you might find help in the links below. Happy writing! More help:
Beginning a New Story Figuring Out Where to Start a Story Deciding How to Open Your Book How to Move a Story Forward Trouble Getting Started Have Plot, Can’t Write
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silverflqmes · 2 months
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໒⦂ 𝐃𝐈𝐒-𝐌𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐓.
synposis. you ask the fontainian boys and girlies for a lesson in the language of their nation — french, to better understand them and become closer.
genre. fluff + crack
ft. navia, lyney, furina, neuvillette
disclaimer. i had french for seven years in school, but my knowledge in the language is in no way perfect, so if i make mistakes, i apologize in advance! pointing out mistakes is okay, but don’t be an ass about it. furthermore, any terms of endearment that are written here will be used with their respective possessive pronoun to keep it gender neutral. for example, cherie is feminine, so i will put ma in front of it. cœur is masculine, so i will put mon. i hope this is lucid enough! lastly, if any qualities used ( fav color, macaron ) do not align with your preferences, feel free to change it in your head — i just used my own to make the sentence flow. OH and one more note i promise- some things can’t really be translated the same in english as they sound in french! mon cœur for example is not really a term of endearment you hear the same in english.. so if the translation sounds weird, it’s just because some things can’t sound the same unfortunately.. THATS WHY FOREIGN LANGUAGES ARE MORE ROMANTIC🗣️🗣️
gender neutral! reader
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➫ 𝓝𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗔 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ oh she was so excited when you showed interest in her native language, it was just so romantic and things couldn’t be expressed as deeply in english as they were in french.
⌗ very patient with teaching you! she prefers a more verbal approach with teaching you and despite her formal nature, she teaches you a casual and easy way of speaking that doesn’t make you sound robotic😭
⌗ “imparfait is used a lot when written, in speech however — between you and me.. you don’t hear it really often! so we’re just gonna focus on le passé composé~ <3”
⌗ if you feel insecure about your lack of accent, it’s okay ( bc me too. ), navia won’t judge you for it! she’s just happy that you’re willing to learn for her!
⌗ likes to set up a scenario for you to test your proficiency! this time around, she had invited clorinde to join you both for tea and macarons.
⌗ clorinde was as patient as a one came.. and was happy to be having navia’s macarons once more.
⌗ “ah~ y/n, voulez-vous un autre macaron? quelle saveur souhaitez-vous?” / “ah~ y/n, would you like another macaron? which flavor would you like?”
⌗ clorinde is just sipping away her tea as the gears are turning in your head to answer navia properly. “oui.. um, je voulais un de chocolat, s’il vous plaît..” / “yes.. um, i’d like a chocolate one, please.”
⌗ cue uncertainty in your words but navia just smiles brightly before clapping. “très bien, ma cherie~! voilà, un macaron de chocolat.” / “very good, my darling! here you go, one chocolate macaron.”
⌗ despite your embarrassment, the tea party went surprisingly well? you eventually got a little more comfortable despite your easy way of speaking, but navia couldn’t be prouder<3
➫ 𝓛𝗬𝗡𝗘𝗬 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ he is a total tease with it and is the kind of tutor that would ask what you are referring to or press for more information just to mess around with you.
⌗ say he asks what your favorite color is, he’ll totally 100% ask WHY it’s your favorite color, and will await with this innocent smile for you to explain. like so.. “pourquoi le rouge est ta couleur préférée, hm? explique-moi s’il vous plaît, mon cœur~” / “why is red your favorite color, hm? please explain to me, my heart~”
⌗ “one of these days lyney, i swear..” you’d mutter and he’d just put a hand to his ear. “hm, qu’est ce-que vous avez dit? je ne comprends pas!” / “hm, what was that you said? i don’t understand!”
⌗ he is fr testing your patience, and now you are wondering whether or not it was a good idea to say you wanted to learn french. he is the most meddlesome teacher!
⌗ i feel like he’s one of those that refuses to answer you unless you respond in french. doesn’t have to be perfect, but he needs to hear you trying! thinks it’s the best way for you to pick up the language — an environment where you are inclined to speak it!
⌗ he probably makes lynette and freminet join in on this scheme of his.. fremmy is mouthing apologies in english to you while lynette is apologizing for her troublesome brother.
⌗ it’s needless to say, despite the extremities, lyney’s method kind of worked? i mean you’re in an environment where all you hear is french and you are forced to speak it in order to communicate with your lover and his family, sooo.. you’re bound to pick it up. sorta.
⌗ when arlecchino was in town again for a visit to check on her kids, you had this idea once you felt you knew enough of the language to ask for her approval on you dating lyney, since she hadn’t known yet.
⌗ so with lyney present, you shocked him completely by walking up to the fatui harbinger with a shaky confidence, holding your heart as you stared up at her. “madame arlecchino.. il m’a fallu beacoup de temps pour apprendre les mots.. mais,” you paused, sucking in a breath. “je voudrais avouer que je suis très amoureux de ton fils.. et je souhaite votre approbation!” / “miss arlecchino, it took me a lot of time to learn the words.. but, i wanted to confess that i am very much in love with your son, and i wish for your approval!”
⌗ lyney was in complete shock of what his ‘father’ might say, but when the smallest smile painted her lips, relief washed over him. “vous devez vraiment l’aimer beaucoup, si vous avez appris le français pour me dire ça.. vous avez mon approbation.” / “you must love him very much, then, if you learned french to tell me this.. you have my approval.”
➫ 𝓕𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗔 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ oh, you thought lyney was bad? think again. furina is on another level of teaching french and just as troublesome, if not- worse, as he is with his methods of teaching you..
⌗ she’s got you writing, doing grammar and spelling, speaking, reading — everything you can imagine. all because you showed the tiniest bit of interest in the language since furina’s performances are often in french.
⌗ in hindsight, you just wanted to learn to understand her better whenever you attended her shows</3
⌗ when she realizes she’s overdoing things, she eases up and recoils a little, not wanting to overflow you with information. it was meant to be something fun for you both anyway to connect you more, not another year of education for you..
⌗ and so she switches to another method of teaching — which is practicing her scripts with you!
⌗ she helps you with your lines, and whatever you don’t understand, she will explain to you so that you guys can have your little performance together<3
⌗ she’ll summon her little animal friends with her vision to act as supporting cast while the two of you act out your lines. cue you being a flustered mess cuz you’re worried about your pronunciation and emotion since hers is so on point, but her eyes sparkle when she hears you trying. you can tell she’s glad you wanted to do this with her.
⌗ some scripts include her singing and it’s just the most beautiful thing. you had heard her once singing la vie en rose in the shower while reading a book and ever since, you’d wished to hear her again.
⌗ “et tu, mon ange..” she cupped your cheek, eyes filled with love for you. “mon étoile.. ma raison de vivre, de tout mon coeur, corps et âme, t’adore tendrement.” / “and you, my angel.. my star.. my reason for living, with all of my heart, body and soul, i adore you dearly.”
⌗ despite it being part of her lines, the script she was following, you had felt every word that was expressed and knew that furina had meant it all.
➫ 𝓝𝗘𝗨𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ similar to navia, he’s very patient with you and not as strict as he looks like he would be. he’s very gentle and sweet about it.
⌗ when you told him you wanted to learn his native language, you could see the slightest hint of elation in his visage. if you were around water, it was bound to twinkle in response to his emotions.
⌗ it was decided that he would teach you as best as he could, and his methods were a little less verbal than the others though. he wanted to teach you the written part to help you with vocabulary and forming sentences. if you had that down, you would have a little more ability and inspiration to respond to him more easily.
⌗ although, he loved reading to you as well, even if it made you a little sleepy. his voice was just so soothing, you couldn’t help yourself when it came to monsieur neuvillette</3
⌗ however he made a point to do this after you guys practiced, since he realized it serenaded you more than it taught you.. but he didn’t mind, you looked so peaceful and adorable<3
⌗ still don’t have the pronunciation down for the very machine he used everyday for trials? he’s got you. “selon le jugement de l’oratrice de mécanique d’analyse cardinale..” yes. yes i did that. no translation needed.
⌗ it made you giggle a little when he said it, him obviously not phased by you asking him to pronounce it — little did he know you just wanted to hear him say it cuz it was silly..
⌗ one day you bring him a book series called ‘fables de fontaine’ — which are in essence, folktales of fontaine, with the intention of reading them with his assistance.
⌗ it made him smile to see you shyly hold up the stack of volumes, but he nodded and sat you down on his lap to read them together, as a means of testing your proficiency.. and maybe- just maybe.. cuz you wanted an excuse to be close with him.
⌗ regardless, he didn’t mind and rather valued the time you shared together since he was the ludex of fontaine — meaning he was often very busy and unavailable</3 so whatever time he got with you, was always and forever cherished by him<3 even if you kind of just maybe.. fell asleep midway while reading.. it just made him chuckle before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “beaux rêves, mon bijou.” / “sweet dreams, my jewel.”
notes. i had this in my drafts for ages, to any of my french speaking readers — please don’t butcher me :’))) anyway i hope this was okay, little different from what i normally do since i don’t really showcase me writing in other languages cuz it’s more work to add translations — and it’s difficult to stay gender neutral😵‍💫
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fyodorloveclub · 5 months
Text
STOP.
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✸ pairing: lovecraft x afab ada!reader
✸ cw: VERY DARK CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI. tentacles, noncon, oviposition (eggs), choking, womb fucking.
✸ notes: breedtober fic 5! mentioned but this takes place during season 2 and the guild conflict, reader is in the ADA. easily the nastiest thing ive ever written! proceed with caution and/or have fun :)
✸ wc: 1.3k (im sick)
want more of breedtober?
DISCLAIMER: i do not condone noncon in any way, shape, or form. this is just fiction with no reflection of real life. there are tentacles. please refrain from leaving hate comments, and just unfollow/block. or simply scroll away. thank u!
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You should’ve never, ever underestimated him. He might’ve seemed aloof, fatigued, and uninterested in anything but completing a day’s work, but it was all just a façade. How could you be so stupid? To write this eldritch monster, H. P. Lovecraft, off as harmless and unthreatening was the worst mistake you could’ve made. Following closely behind choosing to walk the streets of Yokohama alone at night as an ADA detective while the conflict with The Guild had yet to be resolved, and all the members of said organization were still at large.
“Please- please!” you cried out, tears in your eyes as you were being dragged into a dark alleyway by the man with the ability no one could fathom or understand. The one not even Dazai could nullify and put up a good fight against Chuuya’s corrupted state. “Let me go! Please!”
“Please stop talking,” Lovecraft deadpanned, sounding as bored and indifferent as he would if you had only asked him what time it was. His face was completely expressionless in the most terrifying way. “I just want this done.”
Despite his wishes, you still continued to thrash in his oddly strong arms – you never would’ve guessed based on his general appearance, another mistake – even as he pinned you down facedown against an abandoned dumpster and tugged your pants down. You couldn’t see it but you could hear it – the way his arm that wasn’t holding you down transformed from human skin and bone to… something else. Something green, wet, and slimy. A tentacle. One that was currently slithering down the back of your panties and poking at your hole.
"Why are you doing this?” you wailed, coiling away from the disgusting, horrifying feeling of the appendage attempting to touch your sex.
“It’s mating season,” is all he offers, as if it’s the most obvious explanation in the world. The one hand that he’d been using to hold you down had now morphed into four tentacles, each restricting you so tightly you started wondering if fighting was completely useless.
“Why me?” was your next question.
“I’d really prefer it if you eliminated any and all speech.”
As if to really drive his point home, potentially to even punish you, the tentacles wrapped even tighter around your limbs before the one most precariously located penetrated you hard. As thick as a soda can, the slimy tentacle made you scream at the top of your lungs. You could feel the way your poor, unprepared pussy was stretched so tight around the girth it felt like you were about to tear. Never mind the way it squirmed and wiggled further and further into your cunt, pulsing and writhing until it reached your cervix.
You screamed and cried and wailed desperately until Lovecraft got so sick of it, he formed another tentacle to curl around your throat and mouth, choking and gagging you.
The man, if he could even be called that, maintained his bored, uninterested appearance even as he restrained, choked, and fucked you with his ability. The tentacle wasted no time in further violating your cunt, picking up a painful rhythm as it thrust in and out of you, reaching all the way to your cervix each and every time. Your legs trembled and slime leaked steadily out of your hole onto the concrete ground – at least there was lubrication.
Despite your violent protests and pleading for it all to stop, it would be a lie to say it didn’t feel… good. That the way this monster fucked you didn’t stretch you so deliciously, that the tapered tip of the tentacle didn’t flick against your sweet spot continuously. That was the only reason Lovecraft loosened the grip on your mouth – to let you moan. And moan you did.
“Feel good?” he smirked, the curls of his lips the first sign of emotion he had shown all night.
“Please- ngh- please stop!” you cried out, words forcibly interrupted by a hearty moan as he angled the tentacle slightly differently, having somehow perfectly zeroed in on your sweet spot. “Fuck!”
It was made even worse when yet another tentacle slithered close, curling around your waist and underneath you. You were unsure of its purpose only for a moment, until it began tracing your slit and massaging your clit.
“Stop!” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut and banging your fist against the rusted metal of the garbage bin. The echoes of the warping metal only slightly drowned out your moans of pleasure. Lovecraft’s smirk only grew – he didn’t need your consent, but a willing partner was always easier to breed.
“Just let it feel good,” he sighed, stretching the tentacle inside you even wider.
“N-never,” you groaned, though it really, really felt good. Now both slime and slick were dripping out of your hole, a nasty mixture that ran down your thighs and pooled in your pants that were still bunched around your knees.
You had gotten so lost in the terribly intoxicating feeling of getting fucked alongside it rubbing your clit that you had completely forgotten about the breeding comment he had made – but Lovecraft didn’t.
“You should be ready soon,” he hummed, eyeing the size of the appendage buried in your pussy and attempting to gauge its size in reference to the egg.
“R-ready? For w-” your question was answered before you were even able to finish asking it. The reason why he wanted to get you to feel good, to loosen up. For the eggs.
A bloodcurdling screech penetrated Lovecraft’s ears, loud and disturbing enough that he actually frowned, once the first egg passed through the appendage and reached your hole.
“What is that?”
He had maybe slightly underestimated the size of the egg, as your body seemed to be resisting it much more than he thought it would – it’d been a bit since he’d done this. He had to form multiple extra tentacles for this part of the process; one to shut you up once again so he could concentrate, two to spread your thighs as wide as possible to allow for easiest entry, and a few more to keep you more still. A moving target was much harder to hit.
The first egg still remained lodged in your pussy, struggling to push past the ring of muscle so it could exit the tentacle and insert itself into your womb. With stimulation coming from every which direction, you hadn’t even noticed the way the very tip of the tentacle had slithered past your cervix and directly inside your uterus.
“Fucking- take it,” Lovecraft groaned frustratedly, spreading your cheeks painfully wider to pry your pussy open, until finally the egg was able to pass through. If able to pass your lips, your screams likely would’ve shattered windows. The worst part was the egg forcing its way through your cervix and nestling happily inside your womb.
But the absolute worst part of it all? This felt good, too.
There was something so horrifically enticing, so disturbingly erotic about a mysterious eldritch being stuffing its eggs deep inside you, depending on you to carry and incubate them. And those were the thoughts that unfortunately filled your head as he fucked eggs into you one by one, your tummy distending with each addition.
It even filled your head as you lay half naked against the dumpster, back against a brick wall once Lovecraft had relieved himself of all his eggs and abandoned you in that alleyway.
You could hear Kunikida calling your name with fear and fervor in the distance, clearly having found out you were attacked, but all you could do was rub your abnormally round belly and giggle almost drunkenly as you replayed those moments over and over in your mind – how could you have gotten so lucky?
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carlgrimesenthusiast · 8 months
Note
saviour! reader x carl where he’s got a huge crush on her and thinks she’s soooo hot so when the two find themselves alone, and she makes a suggestive comment towards him, he begs her to have sex with him
we’re supposed to hate each other…
warnings: swearing, smut.
a/n: i decided to make this into an actual fic instead of just short couple of paragraphs. plus i haven’t written a fic in a long time! i also wrote in capitalisation and didn’t make the writing smaller, thought i would try it out.
also, i made reader negans daughter so it would fit to the title, but everything else is the same!
You heard someone knocking on the door from the other side of the door. “Come in.” You yelled, rolling your eyes. Someone always had to interrupt whilst you were reading a book.
“Alright, pumpkin. Get up, we’re going to Alexandria.” Your father said, after opening the door. You love going to Alexandria, mostly because of a special someone always being there whilst your father went off taking supplies from everyone. You and Carl were supposed to hate each other, at least that’s what you thought.
Whenever you saw Carl, you get butterflies in your stomach but your ignored them. Even if you were supposedly dating, would it really work out? Your fathers hate each other and even thought hate is a strong word, they really do hate each other. You wouldn’t blame Rick, Carls dad, you knew what kind of person your dad was but that didn’t change the fact that you still love him.
“Fine.” You abruptly sat up, removing the blankets off of you and leaving the marked up book onto the bed side table. “When are we leaving?” You questioned, taking your jacket and putting it on.
“Now, all the trucks are outside all ready.” Your father said, waiting for you to hurry up.
“Well, I’m ready so let’s go.” Negan nodded before turning around, opening the door wider and letting you leave first before closing the door and locking it.
You made your way outside, walking past all the workers and taking quick glances at them. You felt bad for them but weren’t they being kept safe? It shouldn’t be that bad, it’s way better then being left outside with all those walkers lurking around. If I were them, I’d prefer to be kept inside, fed and being able to sleep all safely, well mostly safe…
You boarded the car with you dad, not being bothered to buckle your seatbelt because who else would be driving on the road apart from the Saviours? You and Negan made small talk, a large quantity of it being what we would take when we get there and if your dad was going to stir up even more hatred.
You arrived outside the gate of Alexandria, you waited for the Alexandrians to open the gate before all the vehicles made their way inside.
You jumped out the car happily, you loved being here. You honestly wish you were here instead of the Sanctuary. The houses and the trees and the bright sun, everything about it here was beautiful. You were brought out of your thoughts when a certain someone made their way towards you.
“Hey, Y/n, haven’t seen you in ages.” Carl said, hands in his pockets whilst he looked down at you with his eyes squinted from the sun.
“I saw you like last week…” You had an obvious look on his face, did he miss me or something? You smiled at the thought of Carl missing you.
“What you smiling about?” Carl questioned, your smile immediately dropped.
“Nothing.” You folded your arms across your chest, “now, show me something that I might be interested in.” Last week when you came to Alexandria, you met up with Carl again and you told him that next time you’re here, he should show you all the things he found for you that you could be interested in having.
“Alright, I’ll lead the way. It’s in my bedroom, by the way.” Carl nodded before leading the way, you were both stopped by someones voice.
“Darling, where you going?” Your fathers voice boomed out, you turned around to see your dad standing there with the Saviours carrying supplies back to the trucks.
“I’m going with Carl, he’s offering me things he thinks I might like.” You shouted, loud enough for Negan to hear since he was quite far.
“Alright, be back in 10 minutes!” He shouted back, you nodded and held your thumb up to show that you will be back.
“I’ve got some things that you will definitely like to have, hopefully.” Carl whispered the last part to himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him, but you did.
Carl opened the door to his house and let you enter, you were shocked. Your face didn’t display it but your mind was thinking otherwise. The furniture, the carpet, the lights, the living room. Everything about it is so homely, exactly like it was before the world went to shit.
“Everything’s in my room, come on.” Carl shut the door behind him and led the way upstairs. He opened the door to his bedroom, there was one poster in his room and a ton of shit on his bed. That’s what he was offering, a ton of comics that you wondered where he found them, video games, books, a paint set…in prestige condition as well. You seriously needed to know where Carl found this stuff.
“I want the comics.” You said before making your way to the comics, picking it up from his bed and flicking through it.
“That’s my second favourite.” Carl pointed out, closing the door behind him and walking to stand beside you.
“Oh, well, then I’m taking it.” You smiled, “it’s so hot in here.” You fanned your face before taking your jacket off and placing it on the chair that was in Carls bedroom.
“Be careful, there’s some weird scenes in that one. That’s why it’s my favourite.” Carl joked, you chuckled slightly.
“So what, like sexual stuff?” You asked, he nodded. “Let’s recreate them.” You joked as well. Carl stayed quiet, not knowing how to react. His mind went to other places…he couldn’t help but think about you and him recreating those scenes… “Carl?” You nudged him, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah?” He breathed out, a very obvious rose pink blush spread across his face. “Do you really want to recreate those?” Carl blushed.
“Do you?” You looked at him, he breathed in before nodding.
“I mean, we only have like 5 minutes left…maybe another time.” You glanced down at your watch.
“No!” Carl startled you, your eyes widening at the sudden burst. “I mean, 5 minutes is enough.”
“Are you sure? What if my dad comes barging in the room and sees us?” You feared.
“He won’t, we can be quick.” You looked at Carl unsure, you felt your panties starting to stick to you. “Unless you totally want to, I’m not forcing you. In fact, let’s just forget about what I said. You wanted the comics, here you can have them.” Carl reassured you, he didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t like.
You found it cute how he was talking so fast, almost like he was nervous. The thought of Carl missing you and being nervous about you made you wet.
“Alright, let’s go back outside. I bet your dads waitin-“ You cut Carl off by grabbing his face and smashing his lips against yours. He held his hands over yours, you let go off his lips with a deep breath.
“You said we’ll be quick, right!?” You were already removing your shirt, Carl kissed you again before taking taking his own shirt off revealing his body to you. You gasped, running your hands along his body, feeling his light muscles coming out.
You laid Carl down onto the bed, sitting on his lap. He unclasped your bra from behind for you and took id off. He stared at your boob, mouth agape. “Can I?” He looked up at you, needy.
“Of course.” That’s all you needed to hear before his lips wrapped around your nipples. “Fuck.” You breathed under your breathe, tugging onto Carls hair.
Carl let go with a ‘pop’, you stood back up removing your jeans along with your panties whilst Carl did the same, removing his boxers. You straddled Carl again, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him in, your lips made its way to his neck.
“Please, please.” Carl begged, you probably only had about 2 minutes left so you had to be quick.
Carl slowly felt your pussy, “Shit.” he was harder then ever now, he needed you wrapped around him so badly. He slowly aligned himself with your seeping hole. He slowly thrusted into you, letting you get used to the feeling.
“Carl.” You moaned, his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer and kissing your neck. You whimpered, feeling Carl sucking on your neck.
“Fuck, next time I see you, I’m gonna take it nice and slow with you. Treat you real nicely.” He groaned, you rolled your hips in sync with Carls thrust.
You felt yourself coming close, “Shit baby, you feel so good.” Carl praised, his praises brought you closer. You bit your lip to suppress your moans.
“Fuck.” You held onto Carl so tightly as you came, Carl kept going to help you through your orgasm. You felt Carl release inside of you.
After you were out of the haze, you began to get redress. You retouched yourself, fixing your hair making sure it looked like it did before, fixing your clothing and soothing your hand over it to fix the creases. “I’m sorry this wasn’t quite the best ever, but I promise you when you come back I will treat you even better.” Carl held your hands within his, kissing each knuckle.
“This was the best carl.” You reassured him, “i’ll see you later.” You giggled, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before you and Carl made your way outside.
“There you are kid, I was getting worried.” Your dad said, folding his arms and a relieved look on his face.
“Sorry.” You giggled, you got into the car with your dad. Before leaving, you waved at Carl smiling so much.
“Did Carl not have anything good?” Negan asked.
“Nope” You popped the ‘p’.
“Why’re you smiling so much? Never seen you smile this much before.”
“No reason.” You looked back outside the window, he didn’t need to know the reason why you were.
a/n: i got lazy at the end :(( i’m sorry about that, i hope you enjoyed nonetheless! this is the longest fic i have ever written, my hands are very tired… also i just realised the title doesn’t really go with the plot but oh well… hope u enjoyed though!!!
thank you anon for the request!!!
(not proofread)
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Text
Love Languages Pt 1
Summary: Charles learns about the five types of love language and sets himself the challenge of being able to show his love all five ways. After all he loves his girlfriend without limit. So how hard can it be to make sure she feels loved in every way.
Written in order of what I see as not his love language to what is definitely his love language.
Pt 1 - Words of affirmation
Pt 2 - Gifts
Pt 3 - Acts of Service
Pt 4 - Quality Time
Pt 5 - Physical Touch
Words of Affirmation
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It’s not necessarily that Charles is bad with words, or doesn’t verbally express his love enough. But he knows that it’s probably where he falls short the most.
It’s not like he means to.
Other forms of showing his love just come more naturally.
So when he finds y/n trying on some new clothes that he is made speechless by but she frowns at herself in. He takes the opportunity to really express his love in the most verbal sense.
“You should not frown when looking at something so beautiful.” Charles comments making her glaze flick to him in the reflection of the mirror, face flushing but frown unmoved. “You so look gorgeous. Why are you frowning?”
“Because…Because…” Now Charles really didn’t expect tears to start trailing down her cheeks and her chest to start jumping with hiccups.
“Mon amour, what is this about?”
He rushes over hoping to be a dutiful boyfriend who finds the solution to her tears as quick as possible. His hands coming to cup her face and wipe the tears away but she only leans her head forward his chest, hiding her face.
“Please tell me. I want to fix this.”
“It’s too small. I got my normal size and it’s too small because I put on weight and-and now nothing fits.” Y/n rambles making Charles sigh.
He really hadn’t noticed any weight gain. He certainly doesn’t think that any weight gain to this extent is worth getting so upset over, but something tells him telling her that is not going to workout in his favour. He knows his girlfriend well enough to know that she doesn’t want to hear that.
“You look healthy, Mon amour. I didn’t even know you had gained weight, so whatever you have gained must only mean you are healthier and better this weight than the weight you were.” Charles states then biting his lip. “I prefer you wearing nothing anyway. I love seeing you exactly the way you are, nothing covering up anything. If I didn’t have to live with knowing others would look, I’d insist you just remain unclothed all the time.”
“You are ridiculous.” She sniffles with a small laugh then looking up properly. “What if I got cold?”
“Ah see, I would always be there to warm you up however necessary…” Charles grins then leaning down and kissing her. “Since it is not possible for you to always remain so exposed. Perhaps you just wear my clothes until you find some new things you like? I like seeing you wear my clothes almost as much as I like seeing you without any clothes.”
“Mmm…so long as if it doesn’t already smell like you I get to steal your aftershave.” Y/n grins making him nod.
“Anything you like. I love you.”
“I love you too…a lot.”
“Ah well but I love you more-the most. I love you more than it’s even possible to love another person.”
“That’s quite a lot.”
“But it’s true.” Charles grins making y/n hum with a smile of her own before he leans down to kiss her.
“I still love you just as much.”
“Hard to believe but I’ll let you think that.”
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cupids-chamber · 8 months
Text
FOREIGN FEELINGS, Leona's quite unsure of what exactly he feels you, all of you.. It's irritating, he doesn't know how to feel… until, he finally realizes it all..
GENDER NEUTRAL READER / FLUFF | a/n . I haven't written in awhile so my writing will be a little rocky.. still hope you all enjoy it!
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An annoyance—That's how he'd describe you, the words were something very familiar to him. Leona has never been a big fan of people like you... or rather, he has never met someone as downright pestersome as you. Always bothering and hindering him in times where he'd much rather not face you. Leona heavily dislikes how you seem to be everywhere he was, yet it all seems to be coincidental at first. But he couldn't shake off this feeling, it's not like the usual feeling he feels when seeing that stalking lurking, Pomefiore student in the trees, staring at him resting in the botanical garden.. no, the feeling he felt when seeing you around was different, a feeling he wasn't quite familiar with. It was foreign, and new... and he wasn't quite sure if he enjoyed such a feeling.
Warmth would rush to his face as you called out for him, you'd snark up a comment in response towards his annoyed groan… It didn't feel unpleasant, but it bothered him to hell and back. Your voice was a bit too familiar to his liking, he could tell when you were there, even as you spoke to someone else from behind him. Your voice was distinctive in his mind, he didn't know why.. or how!... How, he could realize your voice over his own, in a loud crowd of people and or students. Frankly, the idea scared him, a tinge of fear growing under his mush layer of hatred and other unidentified feelings, it was distasteful, how much he was okay with you around.
You somehow made him so mad, yet so comfortable? He hated how okay he was—He hated the fact that when you touched him, or got a bit too handsy for his liking, he didn't care. It wasn't even his first thought to move your hand away, or move away from you. Sometimes he wouldn't even notice that your hands were on him, until it moved away and when it was there for a bit too long, he'd make a noise of disapproval, and maybe say something distasteful. Yet, in the back of his head, he sort of.. enjoyed? that you didn't mind his condescending behavior and tone, and how you still continued treating him as you did so, despite his words and actions.
Leona cussed under his breath, when he realized you had taken his complaints to heart, and stopped being so close with him. He hated how annoying you were, how unbothered you were, while you so casually came into his life and created a dent in his ever so routinely lifestyle of lazing around. He now felt worried, and even stressed out, after he said something rude, it made him so fucking mad, now that he had to deal with these new foreign feelings, (Well rather then new, I’d say blocked out and suppressed feelings) alongside the feeling of being stressed and worried. It was all so new, and so... weird.. to him.
The way you came into his life, and began causing little changes into his routine and perspective, he was almost unaware of it but upon realizing it, he starts to beat himself up over it.... Why... why—.. just why, did he care about you, compared to the many students, spectacular or not, you were nothing special. Frankly, you were a hindrance—Someone, who kept on bothering him, over and over again, seeming to not get a hint of how much he'd prefer to be left alone. What part of his behavior were you not understanding?!?
Leona didn't seem to understand, why his stomach started to churn, and why exactly an underlying odd feeling began washing over him, when you hadn't shown up for the past couple of days— It's not that there weren't times where you had stopped visiting before.. but—.. and your usual meetings on campus were coincidental, of course… but he found that you were never in sight. It was odd, he had imagined this scenario before, and he usually saw himself laughing at the thought, even feeling joy… ‘perhaps that he was finally left alone… again’ he thought,... However unlike how he’d imagined things to go, all he was left with was a small bittersweet feeling, it didn't feel nice nor did it make him grin in victory. 
Leona didn't know what to think, when he saw you again. Perhaps it was the way his ears quirked up when hearing your voice, or maybe the way his body felt relieved and a pleasant sigh left his mouth, when you visited the botanical garden during one of his many naps there. Or maybe... it was the way he felt his face heating up slightly, (nothing crazy!) and how his chest felt as if it was being wrapped up in warmth, while you greeted him. (with that comforting voice of yours) The gesture was short-lived, a fleeting moment, just like many of your interactions with him (which were still annoying by the way), but something popped inside him, and the little lion.. might've realized, that perhaps his little fleeting feeling of hatred, was one of love.
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— taglist ♡ ; @dxmoness , @queerlordsimon , @ezool , @ravenlking , @kyraxiyn , @cookiesandcreamsupremacy , @snappit-the-snek , @oepionie , @food-lover9000 , @savanaclaw1996 , @prettyinblack231 , @novaloptr , @ay-chuu
♡ Join my taglist here...
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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miintsprigz · 3 months
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Hello! I loved your mercs x artist reader! I ran into it when I started a Spy art piece a few days prior. (Spooky!) I wanted to request something! Headcanons about a (g/n) reader fear-punching the mercs out of instinct. Like, what if scout just jumped out at the reader and the reader fucking DECKS him on accident. Preferably all mercs, but if that's too much, then just Scout, Spy, and Medic. Obv feel free to ignore, but thank you for your other written pieces!
Oooh, y’all have such good requests!!!
I’ll be honest, I’m pretty sleepy right now, but Scout, Spy, and Medic are some of my favorite mercs to write for, so I can definitely write those three.
May make a part two with the others when I have a bit more energy!
I hope you enjoy, dear Anon ^^
Characters used: Scout, Spy, Medic (TF2)
Warnings: Bit of blood, stuff relating to anxiety.
Scout:
Finally, the weekend was here. It had not been a good week for you in the slightest, and you were glad that it was done. You could unwind and take it easy now.
Kicking your shoes off as you entered, you closed the door, only to be greeted with a sudden blast of noise.
“Boo!”
Without even thinking, your hand curled into a fist, shot out and struck the figure square in the jaw. About a second later, you recognized the voice as belonging to the Scout.
“Ow!!! What the—?!” He groaned in pain, rubbing the side of his face.
“O-oh my gosh, Scout…I, I’m so sorry…”
He curled his lips inward for a second, biting them. Jeremy wasn’t mad at you—truly, he wasn’t, although it hurt crazy bad.
His first reflex when punched was to punch back…but he wasn’t going to punch you. Never you. So he had to freeze for a second, taking a deep breath, rolling his head to the side.
You kept apologizing, hands starting to shake a bit. Quickly, gently, he reached up and took ahold of one of them, gently squeezing his fingers around the back of it, tapping them almost rhythmically against your skin.
A small smile made its way to his face, shaking his head slightly.
“…ya know, if I was just getting back here, and someone jumped out at me…I think I’d slug ‘em too. You’re okay, (Y/N)… I’m sorry I scared ya.”
You wanted to cry for a second, and he could tell. Pulling you in quick, he brought his other arm up to hug you quickly.
“You okay?”
“I-I’ll be fine, just gotta breathe…did I hurt you too bad—”
“Been hit way worse than that, doll. Ya do got a mean right hook on ya though.”
You laughed, and that helped to catch your breath.
“Let me get you some ice…”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine, I’m tough…” Reaching up to gingerly touch the spot he’d been struck resulted in a wince though.
You jerked your head towards the kitchen. “C’mon.”
“Arright, if it makes ya feel better…”
“Oh shush.”
A quiet laugh cued you in that he’d be just fine after some ice.
He was noticeably careful with you as the day went on. You could tell he felt bad, but you’d said it was okay…and if he could take anyone at their word, it was you.
____
Medic:
Good word, you hadn’t been sent through respawn, but with how much your head hurt, you were starting to think that might have been a better deal than what you got.
Immediately, you sought out the Medic. If anyone could help you recover, it was him, of course.
You figured you’d just wait outside his office until he came back…not realizing he was already there. Hearing you outside, the doctor slowly, silently opened the door, and went to tap you on the shoulder.
Obviously, you hadn’t expected to see anyone, let alone feel a hand on you, and the pain had you on autopilot, so you spun around and—
“Ach!”
“Medic??? Crap—you scared me, I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, I—I just need—it hurts so bad—!”
Great. So now you were in pain after a long day, and you’d (accidentally) clobbered the only guy who could fix it! This was one of those “last straw” moments though, and Medic could tell.
“Oh (Y/N), no need to explain! Take a breath for a moment, bitte (please)! I promise I am fine…oh no…”
You tried to breathe, but it caught in your throat. His eyes were locked onto you, gently grasping your shoulders. Tears had threatened to spill down your face, and this got them falling. You sniffled, trying to keep composed.
“I didn’t mean to…”
“There there, come, walk with me…”
The two hands on your shoulders became one hand gently grasping yours, leading you to a cot in his office to take a seat.
“Where is the pain? Point. I will fix it.”
Somehow, the compassion and somewhat surprising gentleness only made you cry more, but you pointed to your head.
“Ooh, ja, after what I saw you put through today, I’m not surprised—my head would hurt, too.”
Before you knew it, a light flickered on above you, and as the machinery whirred, your pain waned and disappeared entirely.
“There! Good as new.”
Your voice broke when you tried to speak. “Doc…”
“What is it? Does it still hurt? That shouldn’t be…”
He leaned down a bit so that he was on eye level with you. You shook your head.
“I punched you…I didn’t mean to punch you, I didn’t even want to, I…I’m so sorry…”
You knew you’d calm down in a minute, but right now you couldn’t help yourself, and it seemed like he understood that. Before you knew it, he’d hugged you tightly, holding you close to his chest. Tousling your hair lightly with one hand, he shushed you softly.
“Shh shh shh…it’s alright, Liebling, I know reflexes when I see them. I shouldn’t have done that—I’ll tell you that it’s me next time, that’s all! If I can patch you up, I can do the same to myself, so…it’ll be like it didn’t even happen!”
You laughed a bit, and felt him rest his chin against the top of your head before both of you pulled apart.
Once again, his hand grasped yours, and he quickly took your other one too.
“Feeling a bit better?”
“Yeah…thanks, Medic. I appreciate it.”
“Of course, (Y/N). Of course.”
________
Spy
Being a close companion of the silent killer, it only made sense that he’d scare you by mistake at some point. Without even meaning to.
You’d even imagined the scenario in your head. And yet. When it actually happened, you still weren’t ready.
Waking up after a series of weird dreams, you went to head downstairs to grab some water and hopefully head back to bed.
Standing there, with the only real light source being the tiny bulb in the back of the fridge, you grabbed a cup and filled it up, not even bothering to sit down to drink it.
Feeling someone brush against your shoulder, you flinched hard and felt your fist go up of its own accord.
It made contact, with a yelp following it.
“Ah!”
“…Spy? Oh no…”
The Spy held one hand over his nose, groaning quietly.
“Hello, (Y/N). You’re up rather early.”
“I’m so sorry, you scared me—”
There was a brief flash of realization over his eyes, and you recognized a bit of shame.
“…you know what, fair enough. I did not think that through.”
Pulling his hand back revealed that he was bleeding quite a bit. “…well, that’s not good. Excuse me.”
Spy was so…matter of fact, about this? It almost put you at ease, but not quite enough. You followed him as he briskly walked to the bathroom, having to scramble along a bit to keep up with him.
“Did I break it?”
“No, I don’t believe so. Breaks hurt much more than this.”
It wasn’t too surprising to hear that someone who was basically a secret agent had broken his nose before.
He looked over at you with confusion flitting across his face, having finally cleaned up most of the blood. Brows furrowed together, he sounded truly puzzled.
“…(Y/N), you didn’t strike me as being afraid of blood.”
“I-I’m not!” You didn’t like how sharply your voice came out, but you couldn’t seem to change it much.
“Well, what’s the matter then? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Spy, I…I punched you. I hurt you.”
“Hmm, debatable really. Punched me, yes. Hurt me? Only for a moment. The bleeding is already stopping.”
You looked at him, bewildered, and felt your face quickly heating up. His expression softened, sighing quietly as the slightest trace of a smile came to his face.
“…Mon coeur (my heart), I’m alright. Please, don’t get yourself upset over it.”
Without thinking about it, you stumbled forward slightly and hugged him. He stepped back a bit at first, surprised, but quickly followed suit, stroking your hair.
“Takes a lot more than that to hurt me. Besides, I took you completely off-guard. I’d argue you just demonstrated sharp reflexes.”
Once Spy pulled back, you realized he was still in that suit.
“Well, at least there’s no blood on your suit.”
With a chuckle, he smirked at you. “Yes, good point.”
“…Why are you fully dressed at this hour anyway? Do you sleep in it?”
Spy rolled his eyes at you. “Absolutely not. I just got back. Late night mission, you see.”
“Ohhhh…”
Leaning against the bathroom counter, a playful tone warmed his voice. “If it will set you at ease, I can regale you with the tale…”
Yes, Spy loved to talk about himself, but this genuinely did seem like it was an attempt to help you calm down. Eagerly, you scrambled to sit on the edge of the tub, playfully resting your chin in your hands as if ready to hang onto every word.
With a snort, he shook his head. “I don’t think this would be a good place for it.”
“Oh!”
Quickly, you got to your feet again, and he bit back a grin as he slipped his arm around your shoulders, heading over to his smoking room.
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scuderiasundays · 9 months
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by your side
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summary: pinterest boards, rehearsal dinners, and late night professions of love written from carlos’ pov 🪭 a continuation of the smoothest operation + a little insta au at the end!
words: 867
a/n: i hated making you wait so i tried my very best to fit in your req, anon! my sincere apologies if it’s not what you’d hoped for. tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee and @diorleclerc just because. let me know if i should turn this into a series! feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses 🫶🏼
July 2022 
You hated it when reporters asked who wore the pants in your relationship, the outdated implication that one partner should have the upper hand over the other. The simple truth was that you two struck the perfect balance. She remained levelheaded at times when you’d go into what you playfully coined "full Latino mode." She had a tendency to overthink, and you’d sat by her side on countless nights, hand in hand, whispering, "Everything will fall into place, mi querida. You’ll see." She was all of the best feelings in the world in human form: clean sheets on a freshly made bed, the first bite into a decadent burger, champagne showers after a sensational drive.
The sun cast a gentle, orange glow on her face as you rubbed your eyes, stepping into the living room. She had fallen asleep on your off-white couch, still in her scrubs after a long night shift. Her laptop lay open on the marble coffee table, a Pinterest board of wedding paraphernalia on full display. The ever-growing F1 calendar had kept you on the go, leaving your fiancée to check off the majority of your pre-wedding to-do list by herself. You couldn’t put your finger on just why you were tearing up, a surge of emotions taking over as you scrolled through the photos. You reached the bottom of the page when you stumbled upon a Polaroid of her in a white dress.
Months ago, you’d overheard her and Ana talk about fabrics as they baked banana bread. "Chiffon? No. Lace? No. Ay, tulle!" You exclaimed, so caught up you hadn’t even noticed her stirring awake. You quietly closed her laptop shut.
"Is this for your next racing suit? I’d say lace is a bit scandalous but, hey, give the people what they want," she giggled as she slowly got up. The espresso machine, a Christmas gift from her, hummed to life. She was making you an espresso out of habit, strong just the way you preferred. You breathed a sigh of relief; grateful her mind had been hazy enough to brush off that you’d been listing off wedding dress fabrics mere minutes ago.
"What did I do to deserve you?" You wrapped your hands around her waist and kissed the nape of her neck. A year from now, she’d be walking down the aisle in that very dress. A year from now, she would be yours for all eternity.
July 2023
The season had been far from kind to you and your teammate Charles. Thankfully, Y/N had taken some time off work leading up to the wedding, providing some much-needed relief from the relentless cycle of "flight, race, simulator, repeat." The pressure and pent-up frustration could have easily consumed you by now if it weren’t for the thought of her eagerly waiting at each checkered flag. Regardless of whether you ended the race with 25 points or none, she was the only person you wanted to see.
You had never been one to voluntarily go on record about the love you two shared. It felt too sacrosanct, too precious. It, nonetheless, was no surprise when press from worldwide gathered in Avila, eager to catch a glimpse of you and Y/N’s big day. Both your sisters had gotten married in this town and, if there was one thing about the Sainz family, it was that they were big on tradition.
This is why you weren’t all too surprised when your parents revealed that you and Y/N would be spending your wedding eve apart. The rehearsal dinner had gone relatively smoothly, despite a few hiccups along the way. Rupert’s daughter Harlow Reyes had refused to hand over the rings, claiming them as her own. Lando attempted to deliver a heartfelt speech but ended up cry laughing in the way only he would, leaving him unable to finish. Yet, in the end, you were just happy to have everyone you loved under one roof.
"Care to join me?" Y/N motioned toward the vineyard, an effortless smile adorning her face. The night had fallen, but the gentle glow of fairy lights illuminated her silhouette.
"By this time tomorrow, we’ll be husband and wife," she remarked. He could see the glint in her eye as she breathed in the thick summer air. She was a sight to behold in her white vest and tailored pants. In that moment, you thought to yourself, "I’m the luckiest man alive," as you made your way towards her.
You wanted to thank her for everything. For answering the phone at 3 AM when jet lag and stress left you gasping for air on a bathroom floor oceans away. For being the beautiful face you could steal glances at as you sat behind the wheel during spontaneous road trips. For making you feel like you were worthy of being loved. For being your constant.
Instead, you simply said, "Every day, starting tomorrow, will be the best day of my life because I get to spend it by your side. You have all my heart, Y/N. Every single piece." You proceeded to squeeze her hand three times, your secret signal for "I love you" because, boy, did you mean it.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
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liked by carlossainz55, heidiberger_, and 57,575 others
yourusername: one more sleep until forever
fan1: considering a red eye to spain just for my “speak now” moment 🫠 i am delusional and live 3,000 miles away
carlossainz55: this distance is unbearable. come back?
charles_leclerc: she’s literally a floor above us, mate. go to 🛏️
fan2: i’m from avila and ran into the whole grid + some retired drivers this weekend
fan3: retired drivers? seb? 🤔🤭
landonorris: i vow (wink wink) to get through the speech tomorrow! i just get all choked up because i love you both so much
yourusername: lies! you and i both know you lost it when @alex_albon started pulling funny faces 😤
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sircle-water · 1 year
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Alright it’s theory time. (practically no spoilers I’d say).
This one’s a bit far out there but it’s been living in my head rent-free so it’s time to evict it to tumblr. 
Satoru Hosonaga is Miles & Gregory Edgeworth’s ancestor. YES I SAID IT WAS FAR OUT THERE PLEASE LET ME FINISH
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Okay, so if you can’t read the horrible low-res screenshot, the gist is that there are a couple visual similarities between them, being:
- All three have a sprig of hair that sticks up in the back. It’s unnoticeable from the icons alone (exception of Hosonaga), but from the sprites and in-game art both Edgeworths have that little tuft.
Also on the topic of hair, in the AA trilogy icon for Miles his hair color not only matches his father’s a bit more but also Hosonaga’s. (however in DD and SOJ it turns into a much lighter grey)
- All three have glasses. Granted, Miles gets his glasses later on in life, however it implies that they all have bad vision. Poor vision “tends to run in families”, however is not genetic. 
- Both Gregory and Satoru have defined cheekbones. Miles doesn’t, however he is 100% related to Gregory so he is excused for this one. 
- Not written on the image, however on the wiki their heights are all pretty close to each other.
Miles Edgeworth: 5′10′’; 178 cm
Gregory Edgeworth: 5′9′’; 176 cm
Satoru Hosonaga: 5′10′’; 178 cm
Granted, Hosonaga is from the late 1800′s/early 1900′s, so the height likely isn’t accurate. However, it is written on the wiki & supports my argument, so I will be taking it as canon despite its flaws.
THINGS CAN CHANGE THROUGH GENERATIONS. Miles and Gregory have vastly different hairstyles, and yet they’re still related. Skin tone can be accounted to lighting/health conditions. (Hosonaga has a colored background for his icon and also probably suffers from iron deficiency/anemia due to his constant coughing)
Now for personality, I’ll be going off of the Ace Attorney Wiki.
- All three are honest & hardworking.
- Professional/Serious demeanor. (Hosonaga has the wackiest disguises yet treats them all seriously & professionally so I guess.)
- Dedication to the truth. (it’s Ace Attorney what else would it be)
- Caring/Dedicating a lot for family/friends. (Miles to Phoenix, Gregory to his son & maybe Raymond Shields, Hosonaga to Asogi/Ryunosuke)
In conclusion, there is proof that Satoru Hosonaga is an Edgeworth.
Anyways, that’s the end of this theory. Personally, I quite like it, however I understand why many people would prefer other possible ancestors. Hosonaga is a background character that doesn’t have a lot of screentime, but he’s also one of my favorite characters in the whole of the Ace Attorney franchise and he deserves more love than he gets. 
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