#if you're that guy in my avoid list dni
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(His) Home for the Holidays: A Meet Me in the Back Christmas Special | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)
Part 4 of Meet Me in the Back
pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: joel texts you while he's horny during the holidays, and you decide to visit him at his house after work.
warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), size!kink, daddy!kink, face-ridin', dick-ridin', ass-eatin' (Joel tosses reader’s salad and gives her a side of housemade ranch iykyk), kissing after said ass-eating, some nasty cumplay, brief fingering, kissing!!!, taking nude photos, unprotected PIV, pussy...job? idk reader strokes him off w her pussy lips, v brief mentions of cigarettes and weed, fluff??, characters actively avoiding Feelings™!!!, so many fucking stupid dirty christmas puns, reader can fit in Joel’s coat, has hair, and doesn't necessarily celebrate christmas, but is very familiar with it ig
word count: ~5.2K | ao3
a/n: thank you guys so much for loving this fucker as much as me. we get into some real naughty list shit here!! i hope you like it, and don't be mad at me about the end ok thx <3 also s/o to @cafekitsune for the adorable divider!
Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi
The days before the Christmas holiday are always the longest. The office is relatively empty, no real action happening, and yet you’re stuck here for eight hours a day regardless. You find yourself bogged down with busy work and rubbing at your eyes with the strain of staring at your screen.
You hear a vibration on your desk and check your phone.
Joel: Wat r u up 2?
You roll your eyes a little, but you won’t lie to yourself. You're glad for the distraction.
You: Working
Joel: cum over
You: I literally just said I’m working dude
Joel: leave early. want u
You: I can’t just leave early. I’m stuck here.
You huff and toss your phone on your desk, trying to get back into your flow, but your phone keeps buzzing.
Joel: im so horny 4 u rite now
Joel: cock is all harddd
Joel: needs 2 be inside u
Joel: permishin 2 send pic???
You groan, your forehead falling into the palm of your propped arm. He has gotten much better at asking before he just sends full hog, and you’re grateful for that.
You glance around quickly, ensuring that no one is lurking in the proximal area, and you give him the go-ahead. God knows you need a little excitement while you’re dying of boredom in corporate America.
The picture arrives quickly, and you look around one more time before opening the text.
He’s actually taken the time to set up his phone at the end of his bed, clearly with a timed shutter, because he’s naked, up on his knees, with one hand gripping his massive length and the other dangling a twig of some kind of greenery above it…is that mistletoe?
Joel: u gotta come kiss it now. sry I dont make the rules
Fucking mistletoe.
You: Jesus. Did you buy mistletoe JUST for this little bit of yours?
Joel: no comment
Joel: cum over and suck it baby he needs it real bad
You don’t know what the fuck it is about this man, but he’s getting more and more dangerous for you. You’ve become much more inclined to jump when he says so. And the sight of his cock, thick and hard and ready for you has your body responding in kind. You squirm in your chair, pressing your thighs together and feeling the pressure building there.
You sigh and respond.
You: I’m off in three hours. Don’t you have to work tonight?
Joel: its my day off. let santa stuff ur tight little stocking real nice n full bby
You scoff at the cringey line, as used to his disgusting language as you are.
You: Yikes
Joel: yikes what?
You: Just everything about you.
Joel: and yet u scream around daddys cock all the same every fuckin time dont u. dont kid urself. just cum get ur present
You drop your head back with a quiet whine, the arousal between your legs only intensifying as he lays out so plainly how deeply he’s come to own you and your desires.
You don’t let yourself linger too long on your response, promising you’ll be there as soon as you’re off and requesting his address.
__
The mobile home park where Joel lives is…not exactly well-kept, but you try not to judge. You get momentarily lost, but eventually see Joel’s beater pickup truck pulled up next to one of the trailers, and you pull in next to it.
You: I think I’m here?
You confirm the number on the outside of the house and gingerly step out of the car.
Joel: doors open
You steel yourself as you climb up the small flight of rickety, crumbling wooden steps and pull the clattering metal door open.
“Joel?” You call out, taking in his living space for the first time and kicking off your boots.
It’s pretty small, but you suppose that’s fitting for a man living alone. A minimal kitchenette cluttered with food items and dirty dishes, a shrunken living room with a ratty couch and a recliner set in front of a television with a chipped coffee table littered with beer cans, cigarette butts, an overflowing ashtray, and a bong. A skimpy fake Christmas tree adorns the far corner of the room with cheap ornaments, some tired-looking garland, and flickering multi-colored lights, but it does have a certain charm to it.
“Back here,” You hear him call out from the end of the narrow hallway to your left. You shrug off your purse and coat and hang them on the hook by the door, next to his coat. The same coat you’d wrapped around yourself when he helped with your tires.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you lean in to take an exploratory sniff.
It still smells like him, of course. His cologne, his cigarettes, his weed. But there’s something else. The very subtle aroma of your perfume. An indulgent smile bleeds across your face. Sure, maybe he’s just lazy and hasn’t bothered to wash it. But you like that you’re there. That it’s not just him leaving bruises and ink on your skin and a deep aching between your legs every time he fucks you, but you’ve also left your mark on him.
Your reverie is interrupted by Joel’s voice once again from down the hallway.
“Come see what Santa brought you for Christmas, darlin’.”
You shake your head, but your smile is still intact.
The floorboards creak under the shag carpet as you make your way towards his voice. His door is only partially shut, so you slip yourself inside tentatively.
And he’s there, just as you’d suspected. Naked as the day he was born, lounging on top of his sheets with hands clasped behind his head. He's got one leg extended and the other bent and spread wide to showcase his hard cock slapped against the pudge of his stomach. He's still got that tacky gold cross around his neck. But the pièce de résistance is the goddamn Santa hat placed jauntily on his head.
“Knew you’d come runnin’ when I called.”
You click your tongue dismissively against the roof of your mouth and curve a hand around your hip. “Please. You had to beg to get me here. You and your Discount-Strip-Mall-Santa ass.”
Joel’s face pinches, tugging at the rim of his cap, “Ouch, baby. This here’s the finest quality Santa hat that money can buy at the dollar store.”
You snort, wetting your lips against your tongue as you banter back, “Shouldn’t you be ringing a shitty bell at the local grocery store panhandling for donations or something?”
“Nah,” Joel refutes, scrunching his nose in the most annoyingly adorable manner, “Gave me the boot after I fucked all the lady clerks in the break room.”
“Ah, naturally,” You nod, stifling a giggle.
You watch as his eyes give you his customary scan from head to toe.
“Goddamn. Look at you, all done up.”
You glance down at yourself and lift a brow at him as you jog your memory of your chosen outfit for the day. Black trousers, a button-up blouse, and a simple blazer. Nothing you’d normally bat an eye at, but you guess Joel has only ever really seen you in casual clothes. “This? Really?”
“Mmhm,” Joel hums, scraping his teeth over his lower lip as his gaze heats up. “Daddy likes.”
“Wait, I’m confused,” You joke as you crawl onto the bed, Joel tracking you with his eyes along the way until you’re straddled above him. “Are you ‘daddy’ or ‘Santa’ right now? I’m a little lost in this roleplay.”
Joel chuckles, pinching your chin in his fingers and angling you down toward him. “Come on, now, ain’t you ever heard that song? ‘I Saw Mommy Kissin’ Santa Claus’? We’re one and the same, darlin’.”
“That mean I’m supposed to kiss you now? I thought that only applied to your cock, Mr. Mistletoe,” You laugh.
Joel shrugs, leaning his head up closer to you. “I’m not picky.”
You stare at his lips and weigh the decision. You’ve never kissed him before. He’s kissed parts of you. Possibly every other part of you. But never your mouth. And since you know very intimately what he smells like, you have a good idea what he’ll taste like as well.
You sigh, meet his eyes for a beat, and then press your lips against his. They’re soft, faint remnants of chapstick clinging to the crevices, serving as a gateway to his already searching tongue. You welcome him into your mouth and he strokes at yours with an unexpected tenderness, tasting how you’d imagined. The tang of his most recent cigarette, the depth of every smoke he’s had every day prior, a hint of mintiness from either gum or toothpaste. And the weight of his tongue in your mouth…it rivals what you’ve felt of his cock when you’ve tasted it. Maybe not in size, but in sheer magnitude.
You lock your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and drop down to grind your crotch against his cock, your nice dress pants be damned as his dripping head soaks into the fabric and you continue luxuriating in the feel of his tongue filling your mouth.
Joel grunts at your movement, tugging at your hair enough to lift your lips from his. “Sweet as a fuckin’ sugarplum, baby.”
“And that’s not even where I’m sweetest,” You whisper, smiling against his lips.
“Don’t I know it,” He mutters, capturing your lips again and squeezing at your ass to kickstart your grinding again. “But how about you remind me?”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm. Come ride Santa’s face.”
“I don’t remember that part in The Night Before Christmas,” You tease, twirling the ball on the end of his cap.
“Probably stuck it in them footnotes,” He chides. “Take off your pants.”
You dismount to shuck off your trousers, and the rest of your clothes just to save time and not feel so overdressed in comparison, and he manhandles you until you’re situated directly above his waiting mouth.
“Take a seat, darlin’. Might not be Santa’s lap, but it’ll be just as comfy, I promise.”
You don’t take much convincing, to be completely honest. You very willingly subscribe to the philosophy that if a man suffocates on your pussy, well…there’s not much of a better way to go. So you sit until Joel’s facial hair scratches and prickles at your skin, and you feel the broad length of his tongue stroking up the line of your pussy.
You moan out a breathy sigh and settle yourself onto his face, your hands stabilizing on either side of the pillow cradling his head, and start to roll your hips against the graze of his tongue. He’s attentive and thorough as he works at you, alternating between lavish licks to your folds and circling your clit with the point of his tongue, making you gasp and your stomach tighten intermittently.
It is a little weird not having him spewing heinous shit into your ear as he pleasures you, but you’re certain his brain is actively crafting more bizarre turns of phrase to plague you with as he eats you out from below.
His tongue spears and you moan out as he penetrates you with the muscle, fucking into your slick entrance as you rock down onto him harder. Joel moans in return, his brows drawing together as he strives to fuck you as deep as possible with his chosen tool.
“Oh, fuck, Joel, that’s…god, that’s so fucking good,” You whine, raising a hand to squeeze at your tit and steadying yourself against his wall above his head with your other hand. Joel must get inspired, because his own hand comes to grope at your unattended breast, working it in tandem with yours.
His other hand presses upward lightly on the back of your thigh, and you lift, looking down with a shred of concern.
“Just wanna knock at that back door a bit, baby,” He reassures.
“Huh?” You ask, brain a little fuzzy with arousal. But then his nose is nudging at your pussy and his tongue is prodding at your asshole, and your voice cracks mid-moan at the blissful sensation. You’ve never had someone eat your ass before, never really cared, but holy fuck. “Oh my god, Joel.”
“Call me ‘daddy’, sweetheart. Or ‘Santa’ if it gets you off,” He offers before diving back in on the tight ring of muscle with his lips and tongue.
“Fuck. Daddy…” You whimper as you feel the tip of his tongue breach the pucker of your asshole. The whole “daddy” thing is a losing battle at this point if he’s just going to push for it each time, and you might as well lean into it. He sucks lightly at the ring of you as he thrusts it inside softly. “D-daddy, that’s…”
You swear he laughs against you as the hand on your breast slides down to your hip. And you can’t help yourself, you dip your hand below your stomach to play with your clit to build upon the pressure Joel is stoking in your belly. The hand on your waist inches inward until his thick, wide thumb is sliding into your cunt, fucking you in time with the thrust of his tongue in your ass.
“Oh, god, daddy, I’m gonna come,” You whine, increasing the pace on the sensitive bud of your pussy. Joel growls between your cheeks, sucking and fucking you until you buck up into your hand with a shout and your pussy beats against the pads of your fingers. You feel your ass squeeze around his tongue, your cunt around his thumb, and Joel grunts as he coaxes you through your orgasm. And he doesn’t stop until you physically pull yourself off his face and fingers and collapse onto his chest.
“Oh fuck,” You pant, your mouth agape and dragging against the sheen of sweat on his skin. “No one’s ever done that before.”
“Not one goddamn motherfucker has eaten your ass?” Joel asks, his voice appalled but delightfully raspy and wrecked. “That’s a fuckin’ crime against humanity. That’s a perfect fuckin’ ass.”
“You probably wouldn’t be surprised how many men don’t give a fuck about going down on a woman’s pussy, let alone their ass.”
“Fuckin’ absurd,” He mumbles, smacking his hand on your asscheek and gripping it under his fingers. “Ass deserves to get fucked every which way.”
You shake your head vehemently. “You’re not fucking my ass with that third arm between your legs,” You shut him down immediately. “I’d never shit normally again.”
Joel rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively. “We’ll just table that for now.”
“No,” You protest, slapping his chest, “Not tabling. It’s buried. Six feet under.”
“Alright, alright,” Joel concedes with a chuckle, gripping the back of your leg and hitching it at his waist. “Guess that snatch is still plenty tight for me, ain’t it?” He says, latching onto your lips, sucking your response off your tongue. It’s only after he’s invaded your mouth entirely that you recall where he’s just been, but the dizziness in your mind has you shoving that knowledge as far back as you possibly can.
“And what about me?” He nips at your lip with a grin. “You wanna lick Santa’s big candy cane?”
“God,” You huff out with a smile of your own, your forehead dropping onto his chest.
“Or would you rather just take a ride on his North Pole, huh?”
“You know, I almost respect your commitment to this bit.”
“What bit? Can’t a guy just get in the holiday spirit with his little hoe, hoe, hoe?”
“Ok,” You groan, pushing yourself off of him to get up from the bed.
“Woah, now, hold on,” He protests, a strong hand circling your arm and gently tugging you back. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere yet.”
“Why? I got what I wanted,” You shrug, sitting back down beside him and laying a hand on his chest. “Santa is seeming a little selfish right now. Isn’t it the season of giving?”
“Season of givin’ you this dick, maybe,” He retorts, pulling you onto his mouth again, and you groan against him. He croons at you as his lips brush yours, “Let me fill that stockin’ like I said I would. Show you what Santa’s got for you in his big sack.”
“I already know it’s coal. Can’t be anything else when I’ve been letting a strange old man hit it this often,” You say, wending a hand down south to wrap around what you can of his cock, and grinning with pride when you see his eyes pull toward the back of his head as you start to stroke him.
“Well, that’s because I know all the best puss is on the naughty list, don’t I?” He groans, thrusting into your hand. “You don’t think Santa gets his little helpers from the Nice List, do ya?”
“Guess you got me there,” You concede, leaning down to taste him again. He moans into your mouth as you jerk him, and the sound of him so desperate and horny has your pussy thirsting after him again.
“Climb back on top, little sugarplum. Let Santa deck those fuckin’ halls of yours,” He breathes over you, and you don’t even question it, you just swing your leg over his hips and settle the lips of your pussy onto the length of him. You skate your soaked core up and down the underside of his cock as it rests against his stomach and dip your thumb into his tip to simultaneously massage his frenulum with his own wetness.
“Christ,” He pants out, clamping a hand onto your hip to push and pull you up and down the outside of his cock. “I could fuckin’ come from just this, baby. But I need to fuck this nasty little slit.”
“What, no dirty holiday-themed pun for that one?” You smirk as you take hold of his length and position him at your entrance.
“Just eager to fill you with all my Christmas spirit, darlin’,” He rasps, squeezing at your hips and stroking the creases of your thighs with his thumbs.
“There it is,” You quip as you sink down onto him slowly, your mouth dropping open as he…well, he does a damn good job filling you with that colossal Christmas spirit. And as your ass sits flush with his thighs and his cock kisses your cervix, you have to admit…you’re feeling pretty goddamn jolly.
The ease of which your body welcomes Joel inside you now has you equal parts comforted and terrified. If you’d have told that naïve, reckless young woman who flashed her tits at a convenience store clerk that you’d soon be hurrying over to that man’s dilapidated single-wide in a sketchily quaint trailer park, sitting on his monster of a cock like it’s an old friend, bantering with him about his stupid fucking puns…you might’ve had to admit yourself somewhere.
But the way he fills you, makes space for himself within you, makes you feel like you’re the most velvety, divine cunt he’s ever sunk into, it sends tingles up your spine and a pulsing in your pussy.
“Shit, baby. Lookin’ like a star on top of a goddamn Christmas tree with my big trunk shoved up inside you. ‘Cept you got these sexy little ornaments,” He coos, cupping your tits again and fiddling with your nipples between his knuckles as he gropes at them.
“Play with them a bit more,” You moan, grinding on his cock and feeling it drag against your walls, “Maybe I’ll light up for you.”
Joel smiles wide, massaging your breasts with rough, dexterous hands. “Look pretty bright already to me with this cock rammed up your tight little cunt. Got you glowin’ with it, baby.”
“Shut up,” You brush off, embarrassment heating your cheeks as your hips begin to rise and fall onto him. “The glow just comes naturally. Nothing to do with you.”
“Sure, sugarplum. All you,” He placates, leaning up to suck one of your peaked buds between his teeth. You gasp as he grazes over it, pinching the other in his hand as his upward movement causes his dick to drag along your cervix.
“Oh my god,” You keen, toppling forward onto his chest and burying your face into his neck. Joel’s hands glide around to your back, holding you against him and using his new leverage to thrust into you from below.
“That too much cock for you, baby?” He sings in your ear as you clench around him. “‘S it overflowin’ your little stocking? Rippin’ at your seams?”
“‘S deep,” You manage to whine breathily. “So fucking deep, daddy.”
“I know, little sugarplum. Daddy gets real fuckin’ deep, don’t he? So good at takin’ all this cock, baby.”
You whimper into his neck, your nails scraping down his back as he fucks you open on his lap. Your clit grazes against him and you can feel your release climbing again as he continues to pound into you.
“You’re not gonna come again are you? Slutty fuckin’ thing. Can’t help but squirt all over this massive cock, huh?”
“C-can’t help—fuck, daddy, I can’t,” You cry, your teeth scraping at his neck as you grind your clit against him.
“Yeah, fuck, baby. Make a mess around daddy’s cock,” He orders as he thrusts, pulling your hips down onto his length.
Your vision starts to shimmer around the edges as he slams into the end of you, and you feel yourself splintering open, losing all grip you have on yourself. You burst apart around him with an inexcusably loud, animalistic scream, one sure to spark gossip among Joel’s neighbors for days to come.
“Fuck yeah, such a nasty fuckin’ slut. Feel you soakin’ my cock, baby,” He grunts, your juices flowing out of your pussy and down his balls as he fucks you through your orgasm.
And you can’t seem to get anything else other than “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” for a good thirty seconds. Joel seems to revel in that, encouraging it as his cock keeps splitting you open.
“Yeah, that’s right, tell me who’s makin’ you feel so fuckin’ good. Who’s big dick keeps you fallin’ apart like this. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Joel has no intention of letting you rest as he chases after his own completion, and his hips start to hammer up into you as he edges closer.
“Fuck, I’m close. You want me to come down your fuckin’ chimney, little sugarplum? Give you a real fuckin’ white Christmas?” He grunts as his fingers dig into your hips and his cock pounds against your walls.
You squeak out some semblance of an answer, unintelligible, and bear the brunt of his cock seeking its release.
“You know what I want, darlin’? Want you to jerk off my cock with those pussy lips like you were before. You do that for daddy?”
You whimper and nod into his neck, and you gasp when his length slips out of you entirely and he drops you on top of him.
“Grind on it, baby. Stroke daddy off with that drippy little fuckhole,” He instructs, helping to guide your hips back and forth.
You undulate your hips on the exterior of his cock as you stay buried in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily into his sweaty skin.
“Let daddy see you, sugarplum,” He urges, pushing you up by the shoulder until you’re upright.
You position your hands behind you and fall back onto them, giving Joel an unobscured view of your movement on him with the strength you’ve regained since your disorienting release. Your lips glide along him effortlessly with the ample supply of your own slick and come. Joel starts to jerk you forcefully back and forth on his cock with hands on your hips, like a ragdoll, until his grunts morph into deeper moans.
He finally comes with a slew of curses, his spend spitting from his cock directly onto his stomach and throughout the hair smattered on the skin there. You slide on his length until his hips buck with sensitivity and you slow to a halt, panting and staring down at the mess you’ve both made on his abdomen.
“So fuckin’ good for me, baby. Shit,” He groans out, stroking his hands down your slick thighs.
“That was…kind of incredible,” You breathe, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand.
“‘S’all you, baby. ‘S’all you,” He praises, and actually seeming to mean it this time.
You smirk slightly as you swipe a finger through his semen and pop it into your mouth, moaning around it.
“Fuck me, sweetheart. That’s…that’s a fuckin’ sight,” He sighs, dimpling your thighs with his fingers. “How about you go for another little ride on daddy’s tummy, huh?”
You quirk a lazy eyebrow at him and then drop your gaze to the mess on his stomach.
“Come on, sugarplum,” Joel rasps, nudging your thighs forward until you’re hovering over the puddle of his come, “Dip your cookie in Santa’s milk. Just like that.”
And you’re too far gone to even unpack the weird shit he just said, you just lower yourself down onto his soiled belly until you feel it seep through your folds. Your hips move almost on autopilot, dragging through the mess and honestly…feeling fucking heavenly. The slick slide of it over your core, the slip of his hair swirling in his own spend on each pass of your lips, the low rumble of Joel’s voice as he coaxes you on.
“That’s so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Seein’ my nut coatin’ that beautiful snatch. Can I take a picture of it?”
You nod, leaning back on your hands again while he retrieves his phone from his nightstand.
“Spread those messy lips open for the camera, sweet little sugarplum.”
You do as you’re told, tilting your hips up and using one hand to part your lips. You hear him snap a couple of photos and then he turns the phone around to you for your inspection. And it looks hot as hell. Your puffy cunt drenched in both of your fluids, his hairy, curved stomach very clearly soaked with the evidence of your activities.
“Send that to me.”
He smirks up at you and you watch his fingers move on his phone until you hear a buzzing in the heap of clothing on his floor. You lean down and put your weight on your elbows on either side of his head, lips ghosting over his mouth.
“Thank you, Santa,” You whisper, sealing your lips together.
He moans into your mouth as your tongue strokes along his. You suddenly feel something plopping onto your head and your eyes fly open, hands shooting to the top of it. Joel’s grin is incandescent as you realize he’s rehomed his Santa hat.
“Gross,” You groan, flicking at the fuzzy white ball at the end of it. “It’s all sweaty.”
“So that’s where we’re drawin’ the line now?” He jokes, stroking his thumb down your chin. “Looks better on you.”
“I dunno,” You impart nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze. “Didn’t look so bad on you.”
“I’ll be damned. You think I’m handsome, sugarplum?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Y’did. I heard it loud and clear.”
“Hearing things, old man,” You dismiss, dropping one more kiss to his lips and unstraddling his lap, your pussy making an entirely unsexy suctioning noise as you extract from the stickiness between you.
“That was fuckin’ hot,” Joel remarks, rolling onto his side and hauling you back towards the bed by the back of your thigh. You yelp quietly as you stumble forward on the carpet and feel Joel mouthing at your messy cunt.
“Ok, Jesus. Down, boy,” You giggle, shoving Joel’s head from between your legs. Joel’s smile doesn’t budge as his mouth shines with your shared spend.
“Sorry, baby. Just too fuckin’ tasty. Irresistible.”
“You’re ridiculous,” You mumble. “Where’s your fucking bathroom?”
“Door on the left,” He answers smugly, settling back in against his pillow with his hands clasped behind him, just as you’d found him, only sans his festive hat.
You roll your eyes, maybe with a smidge of affection, and head off to clean up.
“Mmm. Hate to see you go—”
“Don’t finish that,” You cut him off, not even looking over your shoulder as you go.
“Give her one Santa hat and suddenly she thinks she’s got allll the power,” He calls out after you as you slip into the bathroom, and you can’t wipe the stupid fucking grin off your face.
When you’ve relieved yourself and tidied up a bit, you re-enter his room with a clean washcloth.
“Don’t get any funny ideas,” You raise a brow at him as you throw your leg over his thighs again and begin softly wiping at his belly.
“Ain’t nothin’ funny about this, baby. Just a nice view,” He says, unbothered against his pillows. “I could get used to this.”
“Don’t,” You say as sternly as you can, but you can’t rein in your smile entirely as you do.
“I won’t,” He pauses, eyes flicking to your hat, “Mrs. Claus,” He ends with a smirk.
“Okay, we’re not…” You head him off, plucking the hat from your head and chucking it at his chest as he laughs and you try not to smile. “Keep that shit to yourself, please.”
“Whatever you say, sugarplum.”
You wipe at his stomach as the conversation settles, but not for long.
“Thanks for takin’ pity on me this joyous holiday season. Fuckin’ an old man and all.”
You glance up at him long enough to see the sly little upturn of his lips, his heavy, sleepy eyelids, and shake your head a bit as you focus back on your current task.
“You’re not so old,” You utter quietly, but you’re sure he hears it. “As far as I know, anyway. And you can still get it up. That’s what I care about.”
“Yeah? That all?”
You jot your eyes up to his face again, then quickly back to his stomach. “Yup.”
You see him stick out a lip and nod out of the corner of your eye, securing his hat back on his head. “Fair enough.”
You sit back on his thighs and toss the dirty rag into his overflowing hamper. “Well, thanks for my gift, Santa. I’ll forgive you for not wrapping it, I guess.”
Joel scoffs, squeezing at the side of your thigh. “You ain’t ask me to wrap a goddamn thing since the first time. Haven’t heard you complainin’ ‘bout it.”
“Guess not,” You muse, your fingers subconsciously filtering through your folds for a moment. “Anyway, I should go,” You mutter as you come back to yourself.
“Or you could stay,” He poses, gliding his thumb over your thigh. “Could play again later. I got all night.”
“I don’t think so,” You mumble, maneuvering back onto the floor and pulling your clothes on.
“Hey,” He calls softly, and you look up at him as you do up the fastenings on your trousers. He’s got a crease between his brows. “This is just fun. You and me. That’s all it’s gotta be, yeah?”
Your fingers stumble as they button up your blouse. “And that’s all it’s gonna be. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
You smooth out your collar and take a deep breath. “Yeah. So. Thanks for the fuck. It was good. Really good.”
His eyes roam over you and settle on your face. “Anytime, sugarplum.”
You nod once, resolutely, and head out the door.
Next
YALL WE HAVE FANART!! Please check out this adorable depiction of Sleazy Santa Joel 😭😭
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#the last of us#sleazy!joel miller#tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#katy wroted fic#mmitb
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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !!
word count : 7,7k
note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe).
enough of me talking, love u guys !!
the previous parts :
1 - love bite
2 - late night training
3 - unexpected mission
tag list :
@marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy
Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:
"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”
Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.
The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...
"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.
The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.
"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.
"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."
"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.
"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.
The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.
"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"
"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."
Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.
"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.
"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."
"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"
"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.
"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.
"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.
You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"
The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.
"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."
It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.
Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.
"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"
He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:
"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."
I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.
"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.
"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.
Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.
Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...
"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.
You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.
Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.
So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.
And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.
"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.
"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"
"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.
"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.
"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.
Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.
It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.
You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.
Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.
"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.
"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.
And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.
He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.
Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.
"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."
Oh, it won't be sleep.
He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.
The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.
It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.
His nose wrinkled slightly.
"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"
Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.
"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."
And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.
"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.
He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...
But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.
His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.
So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.
"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.
A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.
"Where," the question sounding more like a command.
His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.
"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.
You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.
"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.
It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.
The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.
His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.
"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."
His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.
"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.
Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.
You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.
He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.
His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:
"Kiss me," you whined, "please."
His eyes crinkled with his smile.
"Mira que buena."
He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.
Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.
He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.
"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”
Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.
"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.
All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.
"I want... I want you to..."
You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.
The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.
"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.
You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :
"I want you to fuck me."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.
His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.
"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.
You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.
You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.
And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:
"I want you to fuck me."
His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.
"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."
His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?
You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.
You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.
You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"
His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:
"Fuck me, please."
His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.
If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?
"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.
His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.
His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.
And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.
Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.
"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.
The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.
You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.
He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.
"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.
Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.
To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.
As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.
As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.
You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.
He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.
He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.
And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.
You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.
His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.
He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.
The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.
His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.
He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.
Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.
"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.
You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.
Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.
Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.
Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.
Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.
He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.
It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.
His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.
As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.
As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.
One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.
He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.
"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.
He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:
"Say that again."
A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.
"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."
He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.
His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.
"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"
Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.
"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.
Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.
"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.
"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.
His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.
"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.
"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.
His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.
"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."
With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.
Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.
Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.
The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.
You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.
"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."
The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.
"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"
His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.
"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.
"Use your words," he said simply.
"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."
He nodded, proud.
"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."
Timidly, you parted your lips.
"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.
You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.
Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.
His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.
"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.
"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.
He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:
"Ready?"
You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:
"Ready."
He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.
"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."
So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:
"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.
His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.
"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.
He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.
Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.
"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.
As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.
His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.
He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.
His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.
His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.
After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.
His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.
Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.
"Qué guapa," he breathed.
His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.
Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.
"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."
It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.
And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.
You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.
"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”
His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.
One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.
He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.
His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.
You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.
Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.
Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.
And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.
Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.
He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.
You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.
You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.
You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.
"How did you know?" he whispered.
The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.
"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.
He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.
"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.
"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.
"Two letters?" he asked, curious.
"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."
He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.
"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."
Us, two letters, a whole world.
#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x reader#astv x reader#miguel ohara#miguel x you#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel x y/n#miguel spiderman#miguel astv#smut#Spotify
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To Defeat The Dragon (or a flirty butthead who can't take a hint)
Minors dni, 18+, fem reader!, smut and jealous Eddie.
❤️
Eddie didn't like this new guy who was attempting to join Hellfire. For one, the guy just screamed arrogance. His name was David.
David seemed to spent an inordinate amount of time fluffing up his hair, and chatting about inane shit, that practically bored Eddie to tears.
That was fine. He could deal with that, zone out if he had to or change the topic to what needed to be talked about.
The one thing that was off limits and everyone in Hellfire, fuck practically all of Hawkins knew, is that you were Eddie's and he was yours.
It was unspoken but everyone just accepted it. You and Eddie had been seeing each other for weeks now, it was secret but like a well known secret.
Pratically all of your friends knew you and Eddie were together but they just left you alone so the two of you could be in your own little bubble.
David, however ignored said rules and flirted with you. All the time. Gareth had made a point to tell him that you were "Eddie's girl", which David either ignored or didn't care about.
The douchebag dared to call you pet names, tried out doll, babe or hot stuff.
You were princess, princess or sweetheart or my fairest maiden in all the lands, not babe. There was nothing wrong with the word, it just wasn't you.
The flirting was constant, you ignored it for most part but Eddie could see how it stressed you out, it pissed Eddie off to no end and that's when David ended up on his shit list.
A mortal enemy, the evil dragon to be slayed by Eddie the Banished.
So Eddie attempted to subdue the dragon but it still persisted (or was just really stupid) even when Eddie said to back off.
Drastic action was required.
So hypothetically if David walked into Hellfire a little earlier in an attempt to flirt with you and caught Eddie between your thighs and driving you to the brink of pleasure, then that was on him.
Except it wasn't so hypothetical, it's exactly what happened, and Eddie did not give a single fuck, no he did not.
It only drove him to pleasure you even more, your legs wrapped around his neck and moans of pleasure issuing from you.
"That's right princess, you know you're my girl huh?" he coos and you reply babbling and tugging his hairs.
"I'm yours always Eddie" he locks eyes with David who promptly scampers, scared off by the pure malice directed at him by Eddie, who smirks and continues to pleasure his princess.
"Such a good girl" he praises and he forgets all about douchebag Dave.
What a happy coincidence as Dave forgets all about Hellfire, avoids the table and Eddie's eyes. You settle on Eddie's knee, confused by Eddie's smug smirk and David's avoidance of Hellfire.
Whatever you shrug, having no idea about the battle that had been waged the week before, tucked under Eddie's arm who was in an excellent mood the whole week.
❤️
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Kink Dialogue Prompts - If you fancy, any of the following with Egon Spengler (Receiving?) :3c:
🌱 Virginity, 🥇 First Time, ✏️ Marking/Bititng, 🩺 Doctor RP (Giving), 🔴 Humiliation
Experimental Methods
Egon Spengler x Female!Reader, word count: 3.5k
HELLO!? finally another excuse to write nasty again for egon, my fuckin beloved ;-; also i have been COOKING this one and it got away from me so it is LONG lmao mostly because i didn't realise you said any of and not all of the prompts oops and then i also added in prem.ejac. my actual beloved👻
request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: medical kink, losing virginity, marking kink, humiliation kink, premature ejaculation
The walk from the elevator to your apartment door at the end of the hall felt like it took an eternity, definitely down to the dead silence between you and Egon which had been ongoing since the moment you left the restaurant down the block. He was often quite quiet once a date had ended, but this was different. There was a distinctly awkward air to the way he shuffled uncomfortably along beside you, and the soft sigh he had let out as he agreed to walk you to your door didn't exactly settle your nerves. That discomfort in the pit of your stomach was only exacerbated by the way he avoided all eye contact once you had placed the key in the lock, and stood, turned to him, as you held the door ajar.
"Egon, I think you should come in so we can talk."
"Talk?"
"Mhm."
You nodded solemnly as you headed inside. He was a sweet man, very kind, very straight to the point. Besides the very limited bursts of anger you had seen him display at questioning skeptics and otherwise disinterested city officials, you couldn't imagine him wanting to harm anyone. So you had to be the one to broach the subject, since it seemed like he never would.
Once inside, you watched him make his way to the sofa, sitting on the very edge with his hands placed on his knees, palms rubbing nervously at the woolen fabric. When you were sitting beside him, you could hear his shallow breathing and the sound of him swallowing his nerves. As much as you were apprehensive about this converation, it spurred you on to know you were putting him out of his misery.
"Look, Egon. I know you're a sweet guy, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable just so you don't hurt my feelings. If you don't want to see me anymore in a... romantic way... then we don't have to."
"What?"
"We can meet for coffee or go out for food alone or with other people, but as friends, y'know?"
"Yes. That is generally something we can do. I appreciate your time, and for being so forward with your feelings. If there's anything I can do to change your mind then-"
You raised your hands up, shaking your head in confusion.
"Wait, wait, wait. Change my mind? I... I'm not breaking up with you, Egon. I'm making it easier for you to break up with me."
His face was blank, except for the slight hint of confusion, and you could almost hear the gears of his mind grinding away as he puzzled over where you got the notion that he might want to break up with you. It didn't take him long though. He wasn't oblivious. The evidence was definitely piling up, although the intentions behind it had been lost in translation.
"I don't want to break up with you. I enjoy spending time with you. We share a lot of the same attributes in common and you are extremely tolerable of any discussions about my various interests."
"How romantic."
You smiled, emphasising the playful tone of your slight dig.
"And of course, I find you attractive. Very appealing, physically as well as emotionally and intellectually. Which is precisely the problem."
Egon sat in silence for a few moments, as though he expected you to psychically glean what he meant by that statement, waiting on your response. But when it was apparent that you had none, he took a deep breath and continued.
"This is our fifth date. I expect that you'll want to have sexual relations, or at least some form of physical contact beyond what we've experienced thus far."
Your eyes widened, surprised by how blunt he was, if not more technical or formal than you expected, and you stumbled over your words.
"I, uh... w-well, that would be nice! But, if that's not your thing then of course we don't have to."
Shocking you both, he abruptly removed his hand from his own leg and placed it on your knee, both of you looking at it before he snatched it back.
"I want to, of course. But, speaking openly, I haven't ever experienced that. Yet. With anyone."
In absolute disbelief, you blinked as your body moved backwards a little, your nose twitching, raising your mouth in a curious and surprised sneer.
"You're a virgin? You. Are a virgin. You?"
"Does that factual statement require this much questioning?"
"A little bit, yeah! I mean... I would've been all over you four dates ago if you'd seemed a bit more at ease with it. I don't know how you've gone forty years without someone-"
He interrupted you with a slight frown, lips pursed as he waved you off before he spoke.
"I've spurned a few advances, but believe it or not, there's something about my personality that other find rather..."
"Abrupt. Formal. Disinterested?"
Egon nodded in agreement, very well aware that you used the words with no hint of criticism or negativity, but rather truthfully, and, oddly enough to him, with an almost loving tone.
"And yet you find those attributes appealing."
"Of course! They come in a very nice package."
You leaned into him, placing your hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently between your fingers as you edged closer to him on the sofa. He watched your fingers moving, eyes closing as he took in the sesation of the touch. Even that smallest gesture was enough to excite him. Your hand, moving further up his long, slender leg, fingers tensing into the muscle and releasing their grip as your palm snaked higher and higher, closer and closer.
"Oh, ok. You definitely are interested then..."
It was impossible not to notice the distinct bulging at the front of his slacks, and you felt immediately bad for pointing it out, but Egon smiled, nervously adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat.
"I wouldn't have lied to you. Besides, I knew the biological response would betray me eventually. I'm only lucky to have gone this long with the problem arising, for want of a better word."
Taking stock of the situation, you considered the next steps. You didn't want to rush him, by any means, but you didn't want to let the opportunity go to waste. An intimate conversation could lead to a more intimate encounter, and that was definitely what you had been hoping for tonight.
"Egon, we can do whatever you want tonight. You can go home, with no hard feelings, and we can continue dating and wait until you're ready. Or we can give it a go. If you want to stop, we can. But I think this could be a nice experience for us, as a... couple. Let me guide you through this. I'll be very gentle, unless of course you tell me otherwise."
His face lit up with a warm smile, clearly in appreciation of your gentle offer and your efforts to make light of what was most definitely an awkward conversation. Still, though, he seemed too nervous to speak much, so the ball was once again in your court.
"Ok, so... is it the skills involved that are causing you problems? Or...?"
"I suppose so, but like most other things, you gain experience with practice..."
Your stomach flipped in excitement, a heat prickling over your skin at the notion that you might be involved in this practice.
"... It's an area I haven't really been involved with before. It's not as though you're something to study, to examine and figure out."
"That's... exactly what it's like, actually."
"Hm."
"I mean, that's what it could be. If that makes things easier for you. Maybe a little bit of roleplay, putting you in a position of control that you're familiar with... maybe that would make it a bit easier for you?"
Egon paused for a moment, considering your suggestion with a hopeful look, nodding silently before he spoke.
"Your hypothesis is intriguing, and I do think it would be beneficial to at least test it in an experiment before we rule it out completely as a possible solution. If... if you're sure...?"
Placing your hand over his, you squeezed it, reassuringly, as you leaned in to him.
"It's a new experience, yes. But don't worry, I'll help you through it... Doctor."
His eyes lit up, a fire suddenly burning in the pit of his stomach. Standing from the sofa, he took your hand and brought you up to him. Egon's eyes flitted towards the door to your bedroom.
"In that case then, please come with me and we can begin this examination."
You reached for his hand, hoping he'd guide you romantically to the privacy of your bedroom, but he was already fast ahead of you, his long limbs gaining the distance with his wide strides as you hurried excitedly into the room behind him.
"Now, if you'll lie back on the bed, please, and take a deep breath. Let me take care of you. I'm sure that whatever is wrong, I can provide some assistance."
Obedient, and with a level of excitement you weren't afraid to show, you bounced onto the mattress and laid back, inhaling and exhaling slowly and carefully as you listened to Egon pacing around the bed, finding the best place to conduct his examination. Standing on your right, looking down at you, you watched as he procured a small notepad and almost pointlessly short pencil from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
"I think we should begin by noting the first examples you found of paranormal occurrences. Were the internal or external?"
Narrowing your eyes in confusion, you tried to think of an answer to the question, but before you could find a suitable one he had moved on to the next.
"If neither of those are pertinent to your experience, can you tell me if you had any sensations or evidence of being posessed?"
"What? Egon, what are you talking about?"
Blinking twice, he lowered himself to you, bending at the hip, and whispering in a lower voice as though he were trying not to break the roleplay experience.
"This is my area of expertise. The paranormal. I am examining you as a doctor of such, so... are you experiencing anything paranormal?"
Quickly catching on, you mustered up a few symptoms for him to use in his diagnosis.
"Oh... uh... yes! Well, Doctor Spengler, the reason I came to see you is that I've had a strange onset of problems, ones no ordinary doctor could diagnose. I think you might be my only hope now."
Reaching out, you took his hand in yours and squeezed, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes.
"And what might these symptoms be?"
"Well, I'm not sure if they're all related, but I do know that I've been feeling very irritable lately. Completely exhausted and filled with stress and tension. It's like there's something inside of me that I just need to get out, something that's controlling my behaviour."
"It sounds like you might need a formal adjuration addressed to the demonic presence that has decided to utilise you as its host."
"I need a what?"
"In layman's terms, an exorcism."
"Ah! Wow, that sounds very serious, Doctor Spengler."
The way you spoke his name, each consonant, each syllable, lingering on your lips and tongues, lustful and seductive, had him clearing his throat and swallowing the building, shaking nerves that it conjured.
"It can be. Could you detail when you feel these symptoms for me?"
"Hm... they mostly surface when I'm around my boyfriend. He's real neat, I think you'd like him. He's so intelligent, so sweet, and he's super hot."
"Ahem... he sounds, delightful."
"You don't think the demon, or whatever is inside of me, is targeting him, do you, Doctor Spengler?"
You forced a concerned pout onto your lips, looking up at Egon through your batting eyelashses as you watched him try to recover from not only the insinuation that he was hot, but that you considered him to be your boyfriend.
"I see... then I believe that perhaps this is not anything paranormal but very natural. I think a release of tension, of a more physical or... coital nature, is the required prescription here."
With his cheeks flushing at the mere mention of sexual activity, Egon adjusted his glasses once more as he avoided eye contact with you.
"Oh, thank you, Doctor Spengler! So... what should I do about this predicament? Do you think you could maybe administer the correct dosage for me? Perhaps we can do the procedure here?"
The deep red blush seeped further across Egon's skin, his pupils wider than you'd seen them before. Quickly, and with no attempt to do so discreetly, he moved his hands down in front of him, holding the notepad strategically in front of his pants.
"Are you hiding something down there, Doctor Spengler?"
Egon stuttered, dropping the note pad before bending to catch it swiftly, the tent at the front of his slacks visible for only a brief moment, but long enough that you could ascertain what he was working with below the tweed and formality.
"I-I-I'm... I-it's... I apologise, I didn't mean to rush things by getting ahead of myself. This is embarrassing."
"Oh, come on, Egon! You know as well as I do that it's a natural reaction. If you're going to be ashamed of anything, I would say it should be how easy it was to get you as flustered as you are... I mean look at your cheeks! Tell me... is any other part of you blushing pink?"
The silence was almost deafening, and he was once again unable to look into your eyes. Fearing you had taken it a little too far in your taunting, given it was his first time, you were quick to apologise, sitting up on the bed and holding his arm. But he brushed you off, working on his nervous habit of fiddling with the legs of his glasses as he replied.
"No need to apologise, I'm just quietly reconciling the facts. Yes, it was embarrassing, but your taunting made it worth it. It definitely played a fact in the increase in arousal, it would be a fascinating thing to study if I had any spare time. I'd even suggest that we experiment with that more this evening, but I'm worried it might lead to a quick conclusion to our combined efforts if the external stimuli is too... well, stimulating."
"How about we just remember that you're into it and add it to our list, hm?"
"We have a list?"
You eased yourself up onto your knees on the bed, holding on to the lapels of Egon's suit jacket as you watched his Adam's apple bob, his chest rising and falling as your hands soothed over his body.
"Now we do."
Your lips met his in a soft, interlocking embrace, with Egon catching on quickly after a sharp inhale. You could feel his smile against yours as the passion deepened, his hands falling to your sides as he held you steady as you balanced yourself against his surprisingly sturdy frame. Letting out a deep sigh as his hands curled around you, his palms flat against your spine as he stroked up and down, you found yourself leaning into him more, fingers pressing into the back of his neck as you kept him kissing you.
One of your hands pushed into his thick, tight curls as the other drifted back around and down his front, your fingers skirting over the buckle of his belt and hooking just below it, tugging his hips towards you. He came easily, putting up no resistance to your desire to have him closer to you.
Egon's breath haltered as he watched you in stunned silence, your fingers expertly, and quickly, unbuckling his belt and slowly, deftly, unzipping his pants. Looking up to him to make sure he was still on board, you caught his eyes, pupils wide, behind the slightly fogged lenses of his glasses. In response to the question you hadn't asked yet, you caught out of your peripheral the slight twitch of his cock, waiting impatiently for your touch.
As seductively as you could, you pulled his slacks down slightly, enough that you could hook your thumbs into the waistband of his white, y-fronts, watching as more of his cock was revealed until it sprang over the top.
He was an impressive length, and a thickness you could get used to with some practice. Looking at it, you considered that was probably why he so often wore looser slacks, given there was a lot for him to attempt to conceal. Without even realising it, you had begun to lick your lips, trying not to drool over yourself. So, to satiate your growing hunger, you wrapped your palm around the base of his length and began to stroke it.
Your movements were gentle, not too slow but not too fast. You were sure he had experienced some level of physical intimacy before, and he couldn't have gone forty years without some level of masturbation. Surely... but there was always a chance...
Either way, your ministrations against his thickening length had it pulsing and throbbing against the flat of your hand as you dragged it up and down, stroking his cock in rhythym with his breathing and matching the pace of his subconscious and almost imperceptible thrusting.
Despite having a grown man under your power, you were still preoccupied with his comfort, worried that you were moving things too quickly. So to counter your concerns, and keep things as pleasant as possible for you both, you took to looking deep into his eyes, past the lenses of his round frames. It was a piercing stare, one that was uncomfortable for only a moment before it deepened the intimacy, letting you see him in a completely new light as his jaw hung open and his tongue lapped at the air. You couldn't help but smile back at the lopsided grin he wore, your heartbeat unsteadied by the mere suggestion that you were making him happy.
A small, sultry giggle escaped your throat, and Egon groaned in reply, bucking his hips forward,standing on tiptoe and shuddering as he balanced himself back onto his heels again. Only when you felt the cooling of the warm liquid spread over your fingers did you realise what had happened.
With a quick glance down, you could see the last threads of cum spilling ont your hand from the flushed, pink head of Egon's cock. Drops and strands dripped down your knuckles, and as you loosened your grip, the action accompanied by a soft whimper from Egon, you fought the urge to lick your hand clean. There would be opportunities in the future to taste him, right now the priority was to assuage the concern you could see growing on his furrowed brow. You could feel your own underwear soaking in arousal at the idea of pushing Egon to climax so quickly, but he didn't seem to feel the same.
Looking to him, your mischievous grin was quickly contorted into an easy, comforting smile as you stood up and quickly kissed him. If your lips were firm against his, then there was no qay he could finish the entirely unnecessary apology that he was trying to make for what he felt was a speedy response to your touch. Resting your forehead against his, and letting his large nose press into yours, you pulled away from the deep kiss, a slowing tirade of softer ones following it until you were sure he would be quiet.
"It's ok, honestly. There's no need to apologise."
"Are you sure? I'd hate to be a disappointment."
"Hardly! In fact..."
You punctuated each word with a kiss, covering his cheeks, his chin, his neck and his collarbone in them.
"... I think it was pretty hot having that kind of power over you."
When you moved your lip back over his neck, you allowed your teeth to graze across his skin before sinking them in, closing your lips over and sucking at him, feeling his flesh warm in your mouth and delighting in the wet, smacking sound as you let go. With your drool settling in a strand against him, you bit your lip, suddenly a little embarrassed by the very forward nature of the bite. You waited for Egon's approval, or disapproval, of the flurry of affection, giggling when he finally spoke.
"To clarify, that bite was a positive response, yes?"
"Of course! I just wanted to... mark my territory. This way, whenever someone looks at you, they'll know you belong to someone. Just in case anyone else gets any ideas about being your first before I can get to you again."
Egon's fingers twitched, reachign instinctively in that recognisable flustered action to adjust his glasses, one side of his mouth lifted into a coy, but satisfied grin.
#I PUT MY WHOLE PUSSY IN THIS ONE GUYS#egon spengler#egon spengler x reader#ghostbusters egon#ghostbusters#egon spengler fanfic#egon spengler fanfiction#finnie writes
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entirety ~ knj
namjoon is the complete package, except for the fact that he won’t make the first move.
✨ title: entirety | ✨ pairing: namjoon x f!reader
✨ word count: 3.3k | ✨ rating: m/18+, minors dni
✨ genre: fluff, pwp (there's some plot), smut
✨ warnings: mentions of a toxic ex-bf, clumsy cute namjoon, reader is horny, namjoon visual, kissing, consent is sexy, marking, fingering, big d*ck namjoon, oral (m receiving), protected sex, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, light spanking
✨ playlist (pls listen to these while reading 👀)
✨ a/n: thank you to yaz for the cute, clumsy namjoon bedroom scene. and last but not least, thank you to beautiful beta @here4kpopfics. ily.
✨ a/n 2: no, you're not seeing things and yes, i've already posted this before but i'm reposting bc....reasons.
Today, Namjoon has planned a little date to one of his favorite places, the Seoul Botanic Park. It's been on your list, and he must have remembered you talking about it. You thought it was sweet how much he listened to you ramble about the most random things. Honestly, it was a problem - you rambling, not him listening. He would bring you your favorite flowers or chocolate; you couldn't remember when you told him these things.
"Namjoon, these are beautiful," you said when he handed you a bouquet of sunflowers. You gestured for him to come in and then stupidly stepped forward, wanting to kiss him on the cheek, but he didn't even notice and brushed past you. So, you smiled and faked not being upset at his hot, clueless self.
You weren't sure what the issue was. The pair of you had great chemistry, at least you thought so, and had a lot in common. It felt as though you were on a reality dating show where the girl is super into the guy, but when in reality, he wasn't. Did it irk you a bit? Yes, because all you wanted was to climb him like a giant tree.
"Have I dressed appropriately for this occasion?" You looked down at your blue floral sundress compared to Namjoon's casual yellow sweatsuit and beanie.
He eyed you from head to toe, making your cheeks warm up. "Nah–you're perfect," he smiled, showing off one of your many Kim Namjoon weaknesses - his dimples.
"Lemme just put these in water, and then we'll go." Quickly, you ran into the kitchen, trying to find a vase to fill up. While opening the cupboard, you realized how short your dress was from the back, considering it was riding up as you reached up for the vase.
Namjoon cleared his throat, trying not to become aroused after seeing a sliver of your cheeky backside. "Here, I can get that for you."
The botanic garden was perfect - the atmosphere, the views, Namjoon. He held your hand the entire way, leading you through the conservatory. You caught stolen glances from him when you would squint to look at the information card for each plant, making a checklist of the ones you liked.
"What? Is there something on my face?" You asked, quickly reaching into your purse to grab your compact.
"No, I just–want to look at you," Namjoon said with his dimpled smile. He held his hand out, waiting for yours. You set your compact back in your purse before intertwining your hands with his. You quite liked how perfectly your hands fit into Namjoon's big warm ones. He happily swung your arm with his, wandering into the next part of the garden.
Your favorite part was the plant cafe. If you lived closer, you'd be there every day. Though you'd have to keep Namjoon's credit card because, knowing him, he'd come home with a new plant every time.
While at the cafe, you thought you'd test out a theory to see if Namjoon was physically trying to avoid you. Stupid, yes, but you needed confirmation.
He returned with the iced Americanos in hand, and you may or may not have accidentally tipped yours onto yourself to see if he'd help you clean it up. The most he did was hand you some napkins, with no intention of helping you dampen the coffee stains away. Sigh.
On the subway ride back, the work rush hour had begun, meaning everyone was packed like sardines. The good part about it was you were being smushed into Namjoon's big frame, unintentionally, of course. Still, Namjoon, being the gentleman he is, wiggled away from your ass as others began to crowd around you. Even a subway full of people couldn’t make this man crack under pressure; he'd always find a way to avoid accidentally touching you.
Namjoon did everything right by the book, and you shouldn't complain, considering your ex-boyfriend was a jerk. You should be glad that Namjoon was courteous, which was hard to come by these days.
"Hey, are you okay? I feel like you've been pretty quiet during this date. Did I do something wrong?" Namjoon asked with furrowed brows, taking a seat in one of your dining room chairs.
Yes and no, you thought to yourself. You wanted Namjoon to kiss you finally. Maybe be a little rough and passionate, get a little handsy, touch you like he wanted you–but here you were, twelve dates later, and the most you've done is hug and hold hands. You loved those things, and Namjoon has been a complete gentleman, but you were tired of waiting for him to make the next move.
"Do you find me attractive?" You asked, suddenly being bold in your approach to this gentle giant, leaning against the back of the couch, facing him.
Your question surprised him, causing him to blush and rub the back of his neck. "Of course I do. Why do you ask?"
"No reason," you mumbled, looking away from his gaze. Maybe Namjoon just wasn't sexually attracted to you, but why would he continue to go on dates with you if he wasn't or didn't see a future with you? You were confused and annoyed but didn't want to ruin the nice day the two of you were having.
Namjoon could see your frustration, so he extended his hand to you, and you took it because you wanted to feel needed. You slotted yourself between his legs, feeling embarrassed for being so bold. Maybe he needed to go at a slower pace. Have you ever thought about that?
He flashed a thin smile, softly brushing the back of your hand, "I like you. I do…I just…want to be mindful of giving you space."
His remark took you aback, "Wait, why?"
"Well…I remember you talking about your ex. And how he didn't treat you right, so…I just wanted to be careful not to do the same thing," Namjoon clarified, gazing into your eyes, waiting for you to say something.
Fuck. Was it too early to say you love this man already?
Your heart completely melted like butter. Namjoon was so sweet, and here you were, wanting him to touch you like the horny little slut that you are. He was waiting for you to initiate and feel safe around him. Namjoon was nothing like your ex-boyfriend, the complete opposite; he was everything you could want.
"Is that why you haven't kissed me yet? And have been avoiding physical contact?" It was almost a relief to hear him say that, so you weren't going crazy, and he probably is attracted to you.
His facial expression said yes. "I'm sorry, but I just didn't want to mess this up because I really like you."
You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer, eliminating the distance. You leaned down, nudging your nose with his.
"Can I kiss you?" Namjoon whispered, eyes darting between yours. His lips were so close, yet so far, enough to make your stomach somersault.
And you answered by pressing your lips against his. The kiss was tender and sweet, the two of you taking your time to explore one another for a minute or two, hands in each other's hair, pulling and tugging. Namjoon hesitated to wrap his arms around your waist, but you encouraged him.
To your surprise, Namjoon swiped his tongue at your bottom lip, begging to enter your mouth, and you let him, his tongue finally having a taste of yours. He cupped your face as he stood, slightly pulling away from your lips but quickly reconnecting. He didn't want to be away from them for too long.
Namjoon smiled into the kiss, letting out a low chuckle before asking, "Can I touch you?"
Who knew such a simple question would cause you to clench around nothing? Unwrapping your arms, you took Namjoon's hands, bringing one to massage your breasts, and then, taking the other, trailing down to your navel, reaching under your floral dress to your clothed heat, which was already stained with your arousal. You whimpered his name when he rubbed his digits in circles against your clit.
He tilted his head. "Baby…you're so wet for me already?"
Shamelessly nodding at his question. You looked at him with darkened eyes, "You don't need to be gentle with me, Joonie." His eyes fluttered shut, groaning at your words, causing his erection to twitch in his yellow sweats. "But first, can I touch you?" Your eyes wandered to the evident erection.
He hummed a yes, and that's all you needed before dropping to your knees. Your manicured fingers are at the elastic hem, ready to pull down his sweats and find out what's been hiding underneath these twelve dates. You shimmied his boxers and pants, keeping your eyes on the prize–and a giant prize it was. Your mouth was slightly watering, ready to take on this challenge.
Namjoon glanced at you, thinking you looked so pretty on your knees for him. He didn't want to rush anything and was fine with taking it slow, but he wanted this too. He gently moved a piece of hair out of your face, caressing your cheek. "You okay, pretty?" He asked, as his heart was pounding, blood rushing to the girthy length staring you in the face.
You assured him by placing your hand around the base of his cock, causing him to grunt and jerk forward. You put your other hand behind his thigh, tugging him further towards you. He was already leaking pre-cum, and you didn't hesitate to taste it. Namjoon hissed at the slightest touch from your tongue. He couldn't wait until he was entirely inside the warmth of your mouth.
But you didn't take him fully in your mouth, not yet. You wanted to give some attention to his balls first, gently sucking on them while stroking him from the base to the tip. His fingers grazed your scalp, encouraging you to keep going. "Fuck, baby--" Namjoon moaned. And that's when you licked your lips and swirled your tongue around his reddened tip, taking him inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat.
Namjoon panted, chest heaving as you bobbed up and down his cock, your hand around the part you couldn't fit in your mouth. He didn't know how long he would last if you kept going like this.
"Baby-baby-baby--I don't wanna come yet," he pleaded, motioning for you to stand. The colors of your knees matched the tip of his cock. He leaned down to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. His hands untie your dress, allowing a complete view of your matching lingerie set. Namjoon's grin in full approval of it. "God, you're so sexy."
He crouched down, hooking his arms underneath your thighs, causing you to yelp. While your legs were straddled around Namjoon's hips, he grasped tightly to hold you in place as he shuffled to the bedroom. Granted, his pants and boxers were still around his ankles, and he was doing his best to maneuver you.
Namjoon, being the cute but clumsy giant he is, stumbled on a pair of shoes at the foot of your bed, unexpectedly throwing you on the bed. You squealed at the sudden jolt against your duvet and pillows. He mumbled an apology. That was not his intention, but you didn't mind—you kind of like being thrown around by him.
Sitting up, you rid yourself of the floral dress and bra, freeing your breasts for Namjoon to see. You decided to keep your panties on–for now. Laying back and propping yourself up on your elbows, you waited for Namjoon to undress. You'd seen his dick, and you wanted to see the rest.
He stood at the edge of the bed, taking every inch of you in, and his shyness began to take over, but seeing you sprawled on the bed in this position, made it quickly dissipate. Namjoon took off his beanie, tossed it on the floor, then lightly ruffled his hat hair.
Growing impatient, you crawled on your knees towards him. He attempted to pull off his yellow sweatshirt, but it became caught on his big 'ol head. The two of you laughed before he finally discarded it along with his shirt.
You sat, feet tucked underneath you, drinking him all in. No one could have guessed that Namjoon was chiseled like a Greek God by his casual, loose clothing. You loved his style, but fuck–you definitely did not want him wearing fitted clothing. He was for your eyes only.
His honey skin glistened beneath what was left of the day's sunlight, his taut pecs ready to be pounded on like he was Tarzan, and god–his abs, you just wanted to run your tongue down every rift and canyon.
"Like what you see?" Namjoon said with a smirk. Your eyes watched as he stroked himself.
You bit your bottom lip, imagining how well he'd fill you up. Shamelessly, you nodded, waiting to see what he’d do next.
Namjoon chuckled, leaning down to place a kiss in the crook of your neck, sucking on your warm skin and continuing to move along to your collarbone and the top of your chest. One hand massaging your breast, causing your nipple to harden - and you’ve decided that you loved having his hands on you. Your body was aching, yearning for him to continue, and he must have read your mind - his other hand pulled down your panties, flinging them to the ground, and gently rubbed circles on your clit, making you gasp at his touch.
Hovering over you, he fully enveloped your breast in his mouth. You arched your back and squirmed underneath, hands threaded through his dark locks, mewling his name along with curses. He unexpectedly pulled away, muffling your moans with more kisses.
Your pussy was already wet, and a mess before Namjoon slipped two fingers into your entrance. An audible whimper escaped when he gathered your juices, spreading it between your folds and pumping his long digits back in. You couldn’t see him with your eyes closed, but he was grinning devilishly at how easily you were unraveling for him. Namjoon pumped his fingers urgently in and out of your cunt, seeing as your twisted expression and little yelps of pleasure assured him that you were close.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” Namjoon asked in a low, husky tone, kissing you again. The knot in your stomach intensely reached its peak, legs unsteady, shaking uncontrollably as your walls clenched around his fingers. He continued pumping in and out of you, riding out your high–your wetness making lewd noises when he finally pulled out of you. He didn’t even have his mouth on you, yet, no other man has made you come so hard by just using their fingers.
You already looked fucked out of your mind, but Namjoon couldn’t resist pushing up your legs so that he could have a taste. “Oh god–just fuck me already!” you covered your mouth when you realized you said your thoughts aloud. “I’m sorry–I just–I didn’t mean to say that out loud for you to hear.”
Namjoon let out a hearty laugh, his eyes taking a crescent shape, causing his dimple to form. "Well, I shouldn't deny my girl what she wants, hmm?" His expression suddenly darkened, dragon eyes now on display, ready to fuck you like he’s wanted to after the first date.
God, he's so sexy, so big, and strong. You just wanted him to do nasty, unspeakable things to you, but that'll come in time.
Namjoon leaned down to kiss you, "Condoms?"
You love a safe king.
Pointing to the nightstand by your bed, Namjoon quickly reached over, pulling out the box, grabbing a foil wrapper, and ripping it open. You watched him closely as he rolled the condom down his length - putting on a condom should not be this sexy. Maybe it was just your pussy doing all the thinking.
He smiled, catching a glimpse of you watching him. "Lay down," he ordered. You did as he asked, legs spread, ready to go. Namjoon crawled towards you, his big frame hovering over you. "You're gorgeous, baby."
Your cheeks warmed up from his compliment. "You know how to make a girl blush right before you fuck her."
Namjoon grinned at your remark. He started stroking himself, placing his cock at your entrance. He looked at you one more time before slowly pushing into your sex, eyes rolling back, mewling at how he stretched you out. When he bottomed out, he leaned forward, propping himself up on his elbows on either side of you, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You’re so fucking tight–I’m not gonna last long.”
You smiled at his comment, nudging your nose against his cheek, pressing a kiss into his jaw, and encouraging him to continue. His strokes were slow and long, hips rolling tenderly in and out of your pussy, making sure you could feel every inch of him. His eyes focused on watching his cock disappear into your body; it was something he could watch forever if he could.
Namjoon started to pick up the pace, grunting and panting heavily while he thrust into you. Pounding into your cunt over and over, easily hitting your g-spot. “Joon–,” you softly repeated his name, but he was too caught up in the moment to realize you were talking to him, so you pulled him down for a kiss. “Joonie–can I?”
He’d been doing all the work so far; you wanted to show him a little love too–you didn’t want to be selfish. You directed him to lay on his back, his big cock sprung in the air, waiting to be swallowed up by your pussy again. To his surprise, you didn’t sit facing him–but rather away from him. Your ass on full display made him groan in pleasure when you sank back down onto him; the view was enough to blow his load.
Plants. He thought about plants to steady his mind.
“Shit–baby–you’re gonna be the death of me.”
You smirked as you began rolling your hips in a merciless rhythm, leaning forward, holding onto his legs so he could get a better view. He muttered a few curse words before grabbing ahold of your hips and thrusting into you from below, causing you to yelp.
As much as Namjoon loved seeing your backside, he'd rather see your pretty face and tits. "Fuck–baby, turn around. I want you to see how hard you make me come," Namjoon commands.
Can Namjoon be any hotter right now?
With a grin, you obey, finding yourself facing him. You could tell he was trying to hold it together, but you knew he'd come the second you sat back down on him.
Your hands pressed against his pecs as you aligned your entrance with his cock. A breath hitched in your throat as he stretched you out again, the pressure in his belly building to its peak. His hands grasped at your waist as he thrust into you from below like before. Namjoon bit his bottom lip; he really loved watching his cock disappear in and out of you.
His heart was pounding underneath your hand, and his quick, breathy grunts informed you he was close. You decided it was time to help by pushing against his thrusts. The two of you are in a frantic state of chasing his climax.
Namjoon’s groans were growing louder, as were the sounds of your bodies smacking against one another. He began to lose his composure, the muscles in his lower abdomen tightening every second, finally building to have its sweet release.
But what really pushed him over the edge was when you straightened up, one hand on his abdomen and the other massaging his balls.
“Fuck–” Namjoon cried out, throwing his head back further into the bed. The shockwaves of his orgasm made him writhe under you, and his expression twisted in pleasure as you milked everything that he had.
When he finally returned to reality, he flashed the biggest grin you’d seen. “That good, huh?” You teased, leaning down to kiss him.
“I have no idea why I waited so long to do this,” he said, removing a stray hair away from your face.
#namjoon fanfic#namjoon fic#namjoon smut#rm fic#rm fanfic#rm smut#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts x reader#bts smut
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Evil system blog information
We're a DID system of (fluctuating) 15-20 alters. We're white british, AFAB and bodily 17.
Simply plural: evilsystemm
Diagnosed with:
Autism spectrum disorder
Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder
Sensory processing disorder
Oppositional defiance disorder
Major depressive disorder (currently being diagnosed)
Situational mutism
Self diagnosed:
Borderline personality disorder
Narcissistic personality disorder
Questioning bipolar 1, reluctant to say we have it
traits of other PDs
We will not be obligated to explain our self diagnoses to anyone.
Basic details on relevant alters
some may make their own introduction posts
[🌃] Liam | He/Him (#🌃)
[🎭] Aries | He/They (#🎭)
[💎] Luci | She/He (#💎🎩)
[🩷] Cel | She/Bun/Love (#🩷)
[💙] Nicole | She/Her (#💙)
[🌹] Emmeline | She/Zher/They
[🎉] Pixel | Xe/It (#🎉)
[🪼] Rae/Ava | She/Her
[🌈] Rumi | They/Bun/Zom (#🌈)
Not all pronouns listed here as some wouldn't fit.
General beliefs, alignments I guess
We are collectively anti-capitalist and most of us identify as Marxist and/or communist.
We're pro palestine, those who aren't are fine to interact as long as you DO NOT spread zionist ideology here.
We have differing opinions on endogenic systems depending on the alter, but most of us wish to see endogenic systems have their own space away from traumagenic systems whether they exist or not. If you identify as endogenic you are welcome to interact with us as long as you're respectful. We will ensure that alters who may be disrespectful towards you are not enacting this.
We're pro neo and xeno pronouns and some of us use them ourselves.
Anti comshipper but respectful and sympathetic towards underage comshippers. Avoid interacting if you're a comshipper as it's incredibly triggering for some of us. (Guys stop having " anti proship DNI " in your bio and then following and interacting with me. I AM ANTI PROSHIP leave me alone)
Anti radqueer and transID. Those of you who reblog my posts without actually having the disorders or traits of the disorders will be blocked, I don't appreciate my thoughts being used to uplift such things.
Generally dissaproving of nihilists, antinatalists and eco fascists HOWEVER I cannot speak for the entire system as some of us probably identify with those labels, and im understanding that those beliefs often result from trauma. Free to interact if you're in those categories but be aware your ideas may be subject to scrutiny.
If you romanticise or sexualise BPD, DNI!!
Narc abuse believers, you're welcome to interact but I will be making an effort to change your minds and if you upset any of our alters you will be blocked.
We don't believe singular alters can have PDs that the rest of the system does not, if you believe that, feel free to interact but I will be judging you. /hj /lh
Other cluster Bs please interact!!!! We have a special interest in PDs and would love to get to know the disorders better (esp. ASPD and HPD). Plus, we ruined all our relationships during a potential? manic episode so friends would be super cool.
there's probably more but I can't think of anything at current
Interests, fandoms
Most of the system has a special interest in fall out boy (the band) and can name almost every song, album etc. in chronological order (i'll take any excuse to brag about this).
As previously mentioned, special interest in personality disorders.
We take A level sociology which ties in really nicely with our politics special interest so we talk about that quite often.
We write essays from time to time about things we enjoy and/or feel strongly about.
Cel is " normal " about neon genesis evangelion (she is not).
Rumi likes Doctor Who.
Liam is a passive (feral. obsessed. insane.) enjoyer of Alice in Borderland, both the manga and the show.
Pixel likes My little pony and My chemical romance (best not to question it).
We have a special interest in typology (enneagram, MBTI, instinct stacking) with pixel being the most interested in it but knowledge spans across the system.
I think that's almost everything covered, I'll update this in future if I think of anything else. This was written by Liam.
#actually npd#npd safe#did system#npd#cluster b#fob#traumagenic system#system stuff#plural system#plurality#actually bpd#bpd#actually narcissistic#fall out boy#alice in borderland#hpd safe#aspd safe#🌃#🎭#💎🎩#🌈#🩷
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heeyy!! how are you doing? hope you're feeling good!! 💕
can I request one where y/n and mark are kinda freshly into the relationship and they discuss their kinks to know how to please each other in bed? and at some point they're talking very openly and specific?
I miss a lot of these kinda talks in fanfics, just the couple talking and knowing each other, you know?
thank you for requesting ‹𝟹
» this is apart of my 'MARK DRABBLE BDAY SPECIAL' event that i will be doing for his bday week. requests are OPEN for this.
» warnings: 18+ because of mentioned of kinks. minors dni.
“What about choking?”
“Choking?” Mark repeats, taking a quick glance up from his guitar as you lying comfortably on his bed on your stomach, resting on your elbow with your chin in hand, staring over at him in wonder and curiosity.
You and Mark have been dating for a little over three weeks, having been introduced by a mutual friend and going on a few dates, you decided to take the next step and ask Mark to be your boyfriend (much to his surprise because he wanted to be the one to ask you out). It was quick, but after a week into your relationship, you and Mark had sex in this very room.
Sex was new to you both. It was clumsy, it was awkward, Mark definitely had trouble in finding your sweet spot and your teeth grazed his cock a few times, but other than that, it was pretty sweet. The second time it happened, it was fine, you both got the hang of things and it was still sweet. The third time it happened, it was repetitive, it got boring. You and Mark never had a problem with vanilla in sex, in fact, you both enjoyed it, but being around group of friends who acitively talked about their sex lives and how much fun they had in the bedroom experimenting, it made you both feel… left out, embarrassed even.
You both wanted to experiment too, to try out certain kinks and maybe introduce toys into your life. But bringing in toys was near the bottom of your list of things to try out, and the fact you were shy in purchasing one.
“Choking seems fine” Mark answers, bringing his attention back to his guitar and strumming a few chords. He stops for a moment, deep in thought with his lips pouted. “Wait, choking me or choking you?”
“Both?” You suggest. “Do you want to be choked?”
“Do you?” Mark shoots back and you shrug your shoulders. “Jaehyun says he prefers choking his girlfriend and Yuta said he likes to be choked by his girlfriend… can only one person do it?”
“I don’t think so” You shake your head. “Donghyuck says he likes both, so I guess they take turns?”
“Take turns… got it” Mark mumbles as he resumes back in strumming. “I think I’d prefer to be choked more”
“Hot. Noted” You tease and Mark chuckles, fighting back the urge to smile as he shakes his head at your attitude. You giggle softly, changing your position on his bed as you sit up, crossing your legs beneath you. “What about… threesomes?”
“What? Like sharing?”
“Sure”
Mark pulls a blank face at that, dropping his guitar down to his side as he fully turns to you, leaning his arms on his legs. “I’m not watching another guy fuck you. That’s completely out, scribble that off your list”
“Wait, why?”
Mark deadpans, “Do you want to watch another girl fuck me?” Your face turns sour at that, not liking the idea of another person pleasuring Mark, someone who could be better, more experienced. You avoid his stare and Mark knows he’s got you. “Exactly. Scribble it off”
“Fine, fine” You huff, reaching out for the notebook that’s been sitting at your side this entire time, scribbling off the option. The tip of your pen hovers over another in your list. “What about orgasm control? That was something Jeno said he enjoyed”
“That sounds fun” Mark confesses, rubbing his hands together in thought. His cheeks have a light pink hue to them as he meets your eyes. “I kinda like the idea of edging you for hours”
You point your pen at him excitedly. “I like your thinking!”
“Yeah?” Mark hums, tilting his head to the side. The tone in his voice makes you lower your pen slowly, heart thumping widely in your chest at the way he’s looking at you. What was this feeling? “I’m thinking of other things too, you know… like you on top of me, riding me and slapping me across the face—”
You gasp. “Mark!”
“Consensually, of course” Mark adds on as a smile seeps on to his lips. “But I’d let you do anything to me anyways”
You take a deep breath, blinking at him slowly. “Anything?”
“Anything”
“Noted” You whisper, looking down at your notes and quickly scribbling something down on the list, your bottom lip getting caught between your teeth as you raise your head back up to stare at him. “I hope you realise we’re having sex tonight”
Mark beams at that, his eyes twinkling as he stares right back at you. “I know”
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2019 - Miramar, California
Chapter 1 of You Are My Soulmate
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader
Description:
It's been eight years since you received your soul markers on your twenty-first birthday. In that time, your life has changed a lot. You've established your career as an Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer and traveled all over the world. You've also made friends in Naval Bases all over the world. But after years of travel, you're excited for the chance to prove yourself on solid ground working out of Naval Air Base North Island. North Island brings you the chance to connect with some old friends and meet someone who you're immediately drawn to.
Bradley's never thought he would want to find his soulmate, not when he's seen so much of the bad parts of being connected to your soul. But after his close calls during the Uranium Mission, he's craving that connection. He's instantly drawn to this girl he helps at the Hard Deck. But his reaction is anything but great when he sees how close she is to Hangman. Why is he so drawn to her then? Can he avoid her while she's stationed out of Miramar?
Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Excessive alcohol consumption. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships
This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.
Warnings: Female!Reader
Word Count: 7477
A/N: Hey All! Welcome to the first official chapter of You Are My Soulmate! We're going to see sparks fly, literally and figuratively between Bradley and Tinkerbell in this part. It's not good sparks, I'm sorry to have to report. Bradley is incredibly rude and chauvinistic and misogynistic in this part. He's also incredibly confused because his heart and his mind are telling him two different things. I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks to @girl-in-the-chairs-void and @sarahsmi13s for all of your help proof-reading and giving me feedback on this chapter! You both are the best!
AO3: Cross-posted Here!
My Masterlist
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Tinkerbell
A wave of heat greets you as you leave San Diego International Airport with everything you own in three colossal suitcases piled on an airport trolley in front of you. The heat feels incredible against your skin, causing a near-instant sheen of sweat to collect on the backs of your knees, your forehead, and the back of your neck. Your thin sweater and cuffed jeans were appropriate for battling wind shear on an aircraft carrier, but they're a bit much for San Diego. You strip the thin outer garment off and stuff it into your purse, fishing out a pair of sunglasses and basking in the sun while searching through your messages to see when your ride is meeting you.
"Tink! Over here!"
You grin when you see him, obnoxious though he may be, and push the precariously piled trolley up to him.
"Hey, Cowboy! How are you?"
If you'd told your younger self that Jake Seresin would become one of your closest friends, she'd have laughed and laughed before calling him a Cowboy Ken Doll to his face.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He looks good, golden and tanned, and the same as ever, even as new smile lines crinkle the corners of his eyes as he smiles sunnily at you.
"Stop flirting, Cowboy. Shut up and hug me."
His embrace feels like you’re finally home. You follow him to the tailgate as he hefts all three of your colossal suitcases in. Jake won’t let you lift a finger to help. You know it from experience, so you stay propped against the side of his truck and soak up the sun a bit longer. It’s an easy silence for a few moments as he settles your luggage.
"How's being back in San Diego treating you so far, Tink?"
Your groan as you settle into the plush, buttery soft leather of his F-150's seats is near pornographic. You prop your feet on his dash and grin at his heatless glare.
"I missed the sun. I've been stuck in the bowels of an aircraft carrier for the past three years. And I've only been stateside long enough to clear out my base housing and fly here. I swear the ground still feels like it's rocking. And don't get me started on the food and the lack of company."
"Well, that's not a feeling you’ll forget anytime soon. But you're in Miramar now, baby!"
His smile is salacious as he smirks at you from the driver's seat.
"And you've got this amazing specimen,” he gestures to himself greasily, “to show you all the best food troughs and watering holes."
You yank his sunglasses off of his nose and tip your own down so you can groan and shudder theatrically in disgust.
"Never." You shove at his forearm lightly, "Never call yourself an amazing specimen ever again. Eww. That gives me the heebie-jeebies."
Leaving the airport, the two of you are immediately in traffic, just as you remember from the last time you were in San Diego. But you're home, so even the traffic feels oddly welcoming. And you haven't seen your best friend in months, so you're happy to talk about his family, soul, and how Miramar has been. The two of you chat about anything and everything, pausing to scream-sing the lyrics to some of the songs playing until the traffic breaks.
"Alright, alright. So what's in the cards for you tonight?" Jake's teeth shine in the sunlight as he grins at you, looking like the cat that got the canary.
"Well…. I gotta take a good look at my cars and bikes, and I need to make sure you haven't trashed my house while you've been here. God knows why I let you take care of it while you’ve been stationed out of North Island."
"Your house is just fine, Tinkie. I even weeded your garden beds over the weekend."
"You?!" You're grinning, relaxing in the company of your best friend, "Weeding a garden?! Since when? I wasn't aware you'd figured out the business end of a trawl since the last time you tried 'helping' me garden."
He's grinning a smug self-absorbed grin when you look at him.
"Well, maybe I got a bit of help from Mav."
You're gawping unflatteringly at him as you let your feet land back in the footwell of his truck with a harsh thump.
"You're telling me you got Maverick Mitchell, the living piloting legend, to help weed my garden?! And he agreed?!"
"Yeah. Mav's not so bad, Tink. He's a great person. And he lives up to his reputation. He made it a squad team-bonding event! He's crazy. He has a few motorcycles and cars himself. And he restored a P-51."
"No way!" You're giddy. "Have you seen it? Is it gorgeous?! I will literally die if you've been up in it."
“It’s beeee-yootiful!” God, he’s so smug, his Texan drawl stretching each syllable. It’s nice to see he hasn’t changed at all in the years since you’ve seen him.
"That settles it. Come Monday morning, I'm driving my Kawasaki to work."
“Somebody’s a fangirl.”
“Jake! C’mon! Seriously! The man’s a living legend. He’s larger than life! He’s quite literally the best of the best. Other than you, he was the only other active-duty pilot with air-to-air kills. The way he flies a plane? It’s pure poetry. I’ve only seen him fly once, but I might swoon if he’s in one of the planes I will maintain on base.”
“Just wait until you have to call him “Admiral Mitchell, sir!” and salute when you’re introduced to him. I will bet you 15 bucks that you can’t do it without making a fool of yourself.” He’s so sure you’re going to make a fool of yourself.
“Make it 50, and I get to pick the punishment when I win.”
“You’ve got a deal, Tinkerbell.” He’s smiling smugly as he pulls the car into your driveway.
You step out into the sun and stretch, grinning at how good it feels to be home. You’d fallen in love with the cutest mid-century bungalow on the beach years ago when you’d been stationed on North Island shortly after graduating from all your qualifying courses. The sweetest old couple owned it, and you’d audaciously dropped by one afternoon offering your help. They’d treated you like their granddaughter, as they didn’t have any children or grandchildren, and you’d loved them too.
It had broken your heart when a lawyer contacted you during one of your early deployments, informing you that they had passed away in their sleep. You had sobbed on the phone as you found out they had left you their house. Since that day, you’ve been trying to live like that lovely old couple. They were each other’s soulmates and had adored each other from the day they met to the day they died. You’d kept the house, hoping it would be as lovely to you and your soul as it was to the two of them. It was now your home base every time you were stateside, and now where you’re fortunate enough to be living long-term for the first time since you inherited it.
You can feel your life slot back into place, the exhaustion and stress of being onboard an aircraft carrier for so long melting away as you step into your home.
"I'll set your bags in the master bedroom. You stink, Tinkie. Go shower, and then I'll buy you dinner and take you out for drinks." You roll your eyes at the mock disgust on his face when you’re sure he’s smelled much worse.
"Love you, Jay!" You blow smooches into the air, pretending not to notice how he staggers dramatically, catching them before walking into the bathroom and sloughing the filth of travel, and Naval ship showers off your skin. You take your time in the shower, exfoliating and shaving every inch of your skin while deep conditioning your hair. You step out of your bathroom, garbed in a soft fluffy robe with your hair finally in fluffy soft waves down your back.
“Hey, Jay?” You yell out your bedroom door. “Where are we going for dinner?”
“How do you feel about tacos? Wear something casual. And for god’s sake, not your uniform. Give that a break until you need to wear it again on Monday.” You can hear a football game from your living room and are glad he wasn’t bored while you spent an inordinately long time in the shower.
“Kay!” You chirp back, going through your closet and fishing out one of the sundresses you’d left in San Diego the last time you shipped out. It’s a flirty number with a flared skirt covered in a raucous floral print. It’s perfect for a summer night out with your best friend. You pair it with a set of cork espadrilles and throw your hair into a fishtail braid before flouncing out the door with your phone and wallet in a little bag.
The both of you are stuffing your faces at this little Taqueria downtown with the best tacos you've had since you were in Mexico when Jake picks up the catch-up conversation again.
"So?" He's grinning, his eyes glinting mischievously as he asks, "Did you find them? Did you find your soul?"
"No. There hasn't been a single person I've met who I've felt drawn to."
"Are you sure you didn't just hide away from the whole world like you do when you get all shy, Tinkie?"
"Urgh…. Fuck you. Not everyone has known their soulmate since they were fourteen years old." You steal a bite of his barbacoa tacos in compensation for that uncalled-for comment.
"Fair enough." Jake crumbles his napkin up after eating his last taco in two bites. He takes a long draft from the bottle in his hand. "What marks do you have again?"
"I have five." You glare playfully at his wolf whistle. "A scent: Sandalwood, a few features: auburn hair, whiskey eyes, and big calloused hands, a song: Tramp by Otis Redding; and an occupation and an important item. I'm not sure which is which. I have fighter jets and an antique blue truck."
Jake's thoughtful as you number each mark on your fingers, lips pursing with each item until you reach the last.
"And, what, Tink, would you say if I tell you that I might know exactly who your soulmate is?"
"I mean… I already promised to love you forever the day I met you. And I apologized to Javy for that, so what more could you need?"
"You buying my drinks at the Hard Deck every time we're both there for a month."
"Deal. Are we heading there now?"
"Yup. It'll give you a chance to meet the squadron you're working with and meet who I think is your soulmate."
You can feel butterflies and excitement swarming in your chest. This feels like everything you've been waiting for. Are you really going to meet your soul tonight? You'll happily pay for Jake's drinks for the rest of your life to pay him back for this if he's right.
You can already see yourself falling head over heels for your soul. It’s your dream to start a relationship with your soul and become better people together. You can also see yourself growing round with your soul's children, his ring on your finger. And you can only imagine how amazing it will be to spend those late-night feedings exhausted but so in love with each other and the babies you brought to life together. Finally, you can see the two of you growing old together and watching proudly as your babies grow into gorgeous adults. And you can see yourself sitting in twin rocking chairs in the house that became a home for you both, with your children and grandchildren arrayed around you.
The sweet ache of your dreams intensifies as Jake chivalrously leads you into the bar. It's packed in the Hard Deck, despite being only a little past 8 o’clock. You're craning your head to see if you can spot anyone you know or recognize. You can feel a sense of anticipation sink into your veins. Tonight more than ever, you feel like your soul is nearby. You’re thankful for Jake’s broad frame as he charts a course directly to the bar where a familiar face is holding court.
"Well, well, well, look at you, Missy! Long time no see, gorgeous!" She still sounds the same as she did three years ago. If anything, she’s lighter and happier than the last time you saw her.
"Penny!" You stretch over the bartop to hug the older woman. Penny was like a mom to you the last time you were on North Island. "Can I get you your usual?"
"Yes, please!" You yell back, straining your vocal cords to be heard. Your drink is prepared in short order, and you grin approvingly as you take a sip.
"Let's catch up later?" You mouth over the crowd, smiling at her signal for a-ok before following Jake towards a rowdy bunch near the pool tables. He's already trash-talking the players, and you elbow him in the gut to remind him you're there.
"Lady and gents, this is Tinkerbell. She just got into town today and will be stationed with us at North Island for a while." He winces and rubs at his stomach before pointing each squadron member out to you by callsign.
"It's nice to meet you all!" It's no time before you chat with Jake's squadron like you've known them forever. It helps that Javy is there, and you can squish your best friend's soul in a ridiculously long hug. It's never been this easy to talk to a squadron whose planes you'll be working on before. Your drink runs out far sooner than expected, and you fight back to the bar for a refill.
You're humming tunelessly and trying to avoid being crushed when a hand smacks down onto the bartop next to you. A body follows it, and you're automatically preparing to fend off whatever flirty bullshit this stranger will lay on you.
"That's a fantastic song."
Okay, that's not what you were expecting. You turn your head and see dark eyes and curls like in your soul mark. He's wearing an obnoxiously loud Hawaiian shirt and has a mustache from an eighties porn flick. But his voice? You could melt into a pool of primordial goop just at the feeling of his voice in your eardrums. And he likes your song clue too. You're not doing it any justice, but he'd still heard and recognized it.
"Yeah, it is. I heard it a long time ago."
"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a Navy bar?" He’s smirking now. There's the flirting you expected. You can’t help your eye roll as he tries and fails to charm you.
"I'm out with some friends. Came up to the bar to get a refill on my drink."
"Hey, Bradley!" It's Penny again. So she knows this guy. Maybe he's not a creep.
"Hey, Pen. I'll take a beer and whatever this pretty girlie drinks on my tab."
"Pen, I'll take my drink on my tab. Thank you very much," is your quick rejoinder.
He lifts his hands to placate you before going back to standing stylishly against the bar. You can feel his eyes on you as you order your refill, and you're constantly self-conscious of every word pouring out of your mouth. And speaking of your mouth, is your lipstick smeared out of place? You've just ascertained that everything looks good in a napkin holder when things get frantic in the bar.
There's yelling and screaming, but no matter how you search, you can’t see what is happening. Soon, Penny's ringing the bell, and the crowd surges around you. When you’re sure you’ll get trampled in the rush, hands are on your waist, helping you until you're perched on a barstool. The stranger leaves his hands on your waist for several long moments. You're barely breathing. With each shallow breath you take, you can feel the heat of his big hands searing into your skin. You can see the flashes of gold in his whiskey eyes this close to him.
The intense urge to kiss him surprises you. Your mark containing your soul's physical features and song is checked off, but you're still unsure if he's your soul. But you desperately want to kiss this cocky, gorgeous stranger. You feel this intense ache to feel his mustache press against your skin and numb your lips as he kisses you wantonly, urgently. More than your neck and lips, you want to know what his mouth feels like against your cunt. How that mustache would feel against your tender flesh as you scream for his talented tongue. Those hands propped so innocently against your waist? You want them everywhere too.
You're shaken out of your reverie by the crowd's repeated chanting of 'Overboard'. And then the hands clasped around your waist withdraw. Just as you're about to say something, anything to hear that beautiful voice again, you hear Jake calling for you. You wave to catch his attention. Jake comes bounding up just as you hop down from the stool.
"Hey, Tink. Are you alright?" He pulls you into a tight hug, and you'd accuse him of being smothering had you not known how much he cares.
"I just saw the crowd rush the bar, and Phoenix said you'd come for another drink." You can see the worry on his face as he finally releases you and steps back.
"Yeah, I nearly was. But this guy saved me. He hauled me onto a barstool and kept me from getting jostled there until the chaos died." You turn in place to thank the stranger for his help, but he's not there anymore. "I wonder where he went? I wanted to buy him a drink to thank him." Your drink stands on the bar top, but the beer he ordered? It’s gone, leaving only a ring of condensation on the wood.
"I have one more member of the squadron for you to meet. C'mon. Grab your drink and follow me." Jake's vibrating out of his skin. You haven't seen him this excited since he introduced you to Javy as his soulmate, not just his wingman.
He pushes you by the shoulders to the pool tables again, keeping up a stream of funny stories that make you giggle. That’s when your heart seems to start beating in double time. A familiar broad-shouldered silhouette is propped up against one of the pool tables, a beer held languidly in two fingers of one big hand as he laughs.
Jake pushes you towards the pool tables, and when he's determined you're close enough, he wraps an arm around your shoulder.
"Oi, Rooster. This here is Tinkerbell. She will be working with the squadron as one of the Aviation Maintenance Duty Officers. Tink, this is Rooster, Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw."
"We met earlier. Thanks for the save back there when things got crazy."
The warmth in Bradley's eyes at the bar seems to have completely drained away. He's not smiling anymore and definitely not flirting when he responds, "Good to meet you." gruffly back at you.
The hope you felt at the song and his eyes, hair, and hands sinks like a lead balloon. An awkward silence falls over the pool table, punctuated only by the low clicking as the Jukebox switches the song playing. You’re more than a little taken aback. Bradley Bradshaw had seemed so nice at the bar. Flirty, sure, but nice. You’d enjoyed the joy sliding effervescent through your veins at each word you spoke. Jake pulls you towards the dart table.
"That's the guy I thought would be your soul. No luck?"
"I thought I felt the spark earlier, but no luck."
You're confused, but ultimately, chalk the electricity you felt to your exhaustion and the heat inside the bar. The rest of the night is easy and light. You're going to have fun working with the Dagger Squadron. And the atmosphere stays that way until you hear Rooster's conversation with Payback and Fanboy as you walk back toward the pool tables after a stop at the restroom.
"So? What do you think of her, Rooster?" It's Payback who asks that.
"Come on. There is no way she's a good Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer. She's all over Hangman. What a slut." His voice has a cruel slur as he spits out the words.
"She does seem close to him." That's Fanboy, you think.
"Hah. Even if they're soulmates, I doubt there is a single thought in that little head. I bet she got here on her knees."
They laugh, and that's officially when the night sours for you. The first time you meet Rooster and he's already decided to hate you. You haven't gotten here on your knees. The accusation disgusts you. Why had you come out with Jake tonight? If only Bradley Bradshaw had stayed a handsome stranger. Maybe then you wouldn't feel like your heart was ripped from your chest and stomped on.
You walk towards the bar, thinking about his words. They hurt more than you’d expect, considering how you’ve heard many variations of them before. A particular class of Navy men hates that a woman knows the ins and outs of a plane better than them. You’ve been victim to the nonsense spewing out of those men’s mouths before. And you thought you’d formed a thick skin and knew how to handle it. In hindsight, you should’ve known it would take only one devastatingly handsome man’s ill-thought words to tear down all your inner strength and confidence.
You’re startled out of your thoughts when a drunken sailor nearly knocks you over as you walk. He’s heavy but oh so warm. You look up, wanting to know if the sailor is okay, and see none other than the man you’ve been thinking about for much of the night. Bradley Bradshaw sends the same electricity singing through your veins as he steadies himself with those big hands on your waist yet again.
“Tinkerbell. You okay? I didn’t mean to run into you like that.” He’s drunk. He’s completely and totally drunk. You can smell the beer seeping from his pores and something woodsy and delicate that you can’t place. How can he act like his words didn’t flay you open? You can feel rage course through you at the clumsy way he’s patting you down to ensure you’re alright.
You brush his hands off your person and nearly growl at him, “Why? I’m just another garden-variety slut, right? The only way I got to where I am in my career is on my knees, right? You don't need to apologize if that’s what you think.” Rage and pain sit hot in your chest as you spit his words back to him.
He looks taken aback, something unknown swimming in his eyes as his throat works. But before he can flay you open again, you walk away. You’re thankful now that you’d settled up your tab with Penny before you headed to the restrooms. You're quick to leave after that, the alcohol in your system magnifying your anger and pain until you're lost to it. Outwardly, you smile and say your goodbyes to everyone in the squadron before telling Jake you’ll meet him and Javy in the morning for brunch and book a ride-share home.
You can’t help meditating on what you heard in the car and vow that on Monday, you'll be perfectly professional, even if every time you look at Bradley Bradshaw, you'll feel the pressure and heat of his hands on your waist. That's the part that bothers you about this whole thing. It had felt electric having him that close, at least for you. But there is no way he's your soul, right? He's too much of an asshole for that. Why else would he have said what he said?
Rooster
There is nothing like the feeling of being up in the air, going faster than the speed of sound. Many people work hard for their careers, and he’s had to do that too. But Bradley Bradshaw maintains that he was born to fly. It’s in his blood. After all, his dad, Uncle Mav, and other uncles flew. So it’s no wonder that he’s one of the best of the best. And he’s on an elite squad hand-selected by the Navy to fly those missions that nobody else can. Things are finally looking up. His career is excellent. He’s connected with his Uncles again. He’s part of a squad that works like a well-oiled machine. Only one thing could improve his life: if he weren’t so lonely.
Bradley Bradshaw has always been the life of the party. So why does it hurt nowadays after the party ends and he’s staggering half-drunk into the apartment he’s been given on base? Sure, he’s not lacking companionship. All it takes is a flirty wink, a couple of notes on the piano, and scores of badge bunnies appear ready and willing to drop everything to get into his bed. Getting his dick wet has never been so dull. All those girls flirt the same. They moan the same at the exact same times, and they always, always, always cum the same way.
So sue him. He is over thirty years old, and he's bored with everything in his life except for flying. And even with the squad, they do the same things nearly every night. Most of the squad has found their soulmates. So when they aren’t out with their soulmates, the whole crew is clustered around the pool tables at the Hard Deck. On Saturdays, he heads to the hangar in the desert with Mav to work on the P-51. Sometimes Penny and Amelia are around, sometimes not. And Sunday night is dinner with his Uncles. That's been his life since Mav crashed back into his life with the Uranium Mission. And every workday is full of flying, the high-octane rush of it the only time he feels alive.
It’s a Friday night like any other as he rifles through his closet for a Hawaiian shirt. The squadron had finished their hop debrief for the day and made plans to meet at the Hard Deck at half past 8. It is just about 8:45, and that is typical too. He's always late, and once he’s at the bar, he always downs a beer or two and then plays a few songs on the piano before taking whichever badge bunny catches his fancy home.
At least San Diego never fails to disappoint. It's gorgeous out. Bradley's sunglasses are on, and the wind whips through his hair as he drives his Bronco to the bar. If there's one thing he loves more than flying, it's driving this car. The one his dad left him. It's one of the only places he has left where he can be Bradley Bradshaw, not Rooster or Lieutenant Bradshaw.
There's something funky playing on the radio as he drives up to the Hard Deck, and it lifts his mood just a little. It's that old Otis Redding tune, Tramp, and he can't help the swagger in his hips as he walks into the bar. It's packed tonight, and people are dancing, chatting, and laughing from wall to wall. He can feel a strange electricity in the air, and everything feels different tonight. He can’t place what about the Hard Deck looks different, though. It looks like the same sea of Navy Personnel and badge bunnies, both male and female, milling about with alcohol in hand. Amidst the crush of bodies, he finally grasps something new. There’s a glimpse of brightly patterned fabric against the bar, colorful and flower printed. It’s like sunshine on a cloudy day.
He can feel the stretch of his muscles bunching underneath his jeans as he walks towards the bar. Each stride is nearly smooth, except for the catch in his leg, which broke years ago and still twinges when it’s damp out. It’s several moments before he sees that captivating colorful glimpse, though. It’s a girl, though a woman would be a better descriptor, wearing a floral printed sundress. The bodice clings to her figure, and the skirt is full, flaring out to just below her thigh and revealing miles of supple leg ending in wedge sandals. Her glistening hair looks thick and soft as it lies in a braid, something finicky and delicate that he couldn’t name if he tried. Could this be her? His soulmate? With only two soul marks, there is no way she could be his.
She’s humming. It’s not the most tuneful rendition, but it is instantly recognizable regardless, Otis Redding’s Tramp. Bradley lumbers forward, laying his hand heavily on the bar top beside her while waiting for Penny to make the rounds. His actions get her attention, and he’s at the mercy of big doe eyes as they glance right up at him. But she’s not coy like other girls are when he’s next to them. She looks like she’d do anything besides talk to him.
"That's a fantastic song."
Bradley can see the warring emotions behind those beautiful doe eyes as she tries to figure out how to respond.
"Yeah, it is. I heard it in a dream a long time ago." Her voice is sweet and soft but with a backbone of steel. And those expressive, expressive eyes. He can read exactly what she’s thinking in those eyes.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a Navy bar?”
Her eyes roll, her plush lips pursing and nose crinkling as she realizes he’s flirting.
"I'm out with some friends. Came up to the bar to get a drink."
"Hey, Bradley!" It's Penny who interjects. She must know this pretty girl and feels strongly about protecting her too. Bradley's on the business side of a glare like he hasn't received from her since he was eight years old and being babysat by Penny while his mom was running errands.
"Hey, Pen. I'll take a beer and whatever this pretty girl drinks on my tab."
"Pen, I'll take my drink on my tab. Thank you very much." She's beautiful and quick as a whip. Bradley resolves to stay on her good side. This girl will not accept any free drinks. Bradley lifts his hands placatingly in her direction, taking long glances at the slope of her nose and the shape of her burgundy-stained lips as she gives Penny her drink order, something fruity and sweet.
That's about when things turn upside down in the bar. A fight breaks out at some of the tables. He can barely see the drunken idiots going at it from where he’s propped against the bar. There's yelling and screaming, and Penny quickly rings the bell. The crowd surges around the bar, and he makes an executive decision. He hoists the pretty little thing he's been trying to chat up and plops her down on the bar stool in front of him, using his body as a barrier. She's staring at him in shock now. Those pretty, plush lips are parted just enough for him to glance at her tongue.
He has this sudden intense urge to kiss her, to taste the residue of sugar-laden liquor on that perfect pink-stained mouth and tongue. Bradley wants to do more than kiss her, too. He has a sudden flash of those gorgeous eyes teary as those plush lips wrap around his cock. He wants to feel the weight of her pert breasts in his hands, to make those pretty little hands grasp his hair as she screams his name. He's never felt like this with anyone before. And he finds that he's embarrassingly growing hard just at the thought of her.
Her skin is soft and hot through the thin fabric of her dress as his hands rest in the dip of her waist. Her chest heaves with each shallow breath as she looks at him. He’s just about to tell her his name, ask her what she’s thinking, or do anything to hear another word out of that pretty mouth when the cry of ‘Overboard’ fills the bar. It looks like the men who had been fighting are getting thrown out. That’s when he realizes his hands have been around this girl’s waist for far too long. He steps back with his throat dry as he lifts his hands from around her. He can still feel her against the pads of his fingers as he flexes his hands uselessly at his sides.
The bar is soon back to normal around him. Penny drops off her drink and his beer, and as he grabs his drink and turns back to the pretty girl, he can hear Hangman calling for her. Her eyes are wide with recognition, and she waves at him. So she’s Hangman’s something, though he’s not sure friend is the best term. Bradley slips away just as Hangman reaches her, drawing her into a protective embrace.
The jolt of irritation that shoots through him at the sight is filled with something uncomfortably close to jealousy. He can feel something nasty crawling out his chest at the sight of the sweetest girl he's ever spoken to being swept up in Bagman's arms. The worst part is that she looks like she belongs there. Bagman'd bragged unendingly about his soulmate before. This must be her. It figures that she’s got a soul already. That her soul is Bagman is just salt in another open wound. He takes a swig from the cold bottle in his hand and turns his back on the sight, moving through the crowd to the pool tables. Phoenix and Bob are trouncing Payback and Fanboy in a game of nine-ball, and it’s looking to be just like any other Friday night the squad has had since it became permanent.
He’s brooding, and the squad can no doubt sense the suddenly foul mood seeping from his pores. Outwardly, he's trying, really trying to keep it from showing in his tone. Sure, she's Hangman's. That just means that his soul has to be out there, right? He still remembers the pact he'd made in that hospital bed years ago when he’d gotten his marks. Would his younger self begrudge his need to find the person who's right for him? It's exhausting having to play a part day in and day out. Even with Mav, he can't let his guard down. Bradley’s not even sure when he started looking for his soul in earnest or when the revolving door of girls got stale and boring.
All he knows is that one day he woke up and wanted everything his mom and dad had. He wants happiness like the time before Top Gun when it was just the three Bradshaws and his Uncle Mav. All the light and love and happiness. Neither his mom nor his dad had any family left before they died. He’s it. He’s the last of their lines. And after his close calls over the past few months, he never wants to feel like he’s at the end without a soul who loves him ever again. He just has to find her and hope she can love him despite his life's mess and stress.
Hangman pulls him out of his reverie by pushing his girl toward the rest of them. She grins at him, and he can hear her giggles as Hangman drapes an arm around her shoulder, drawing her into his side.
"Oi, Rooster. This here is Tinkerbell. She will be working with the squadron as one of the Aviation Maintenance Duty Officers. Tink, this is Rooster, Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw."
"We met earlier. Thanks for the save back there when things got crazy." God, her voice still sounds so good, melodic, and sweet. But, the nasty little voice in his head screams at him, ‘She’s not yours. She’ll never be yours. What about you could a sweet little thing like that want?’. The irritation ever-present since he realized she’s Bagman’s soul colors his tone as he nearly barks, “Good to meet you.” back at her.
He can see a little of the joy shutter in those doe eyes and immediately kicks himself for making her feel that way. An uncomfortable hush surrounds the tables. He can feel eyes on him. Hangman’s, Bob’s, and definitely Phoenix’s. He takes a swig of his beer, but before he can apologize or ease the hush, he’s dragged away by an incandescently incensed firebird.
“What the fuck was that, Bradshaw?” He’s pissed Tasha off. He hadn’t seen her this angry since Hangman left her and Bob behind while they were training for the Uranium Mission.
“I dunno, Tash.”
“Well, you better figure it out. Tinkerbell’s going to be working with us. You don’t fuck with the girl who maintains your plane, birdbrain. Not unless you want to be falling out of the sky.” Bradley can’t argue with her reasoning as she steals his beer and saunters back to the pool tables.
The worst part is that Tinkerbell doesn't even seem to care that she's set his whole world on fire. She's laughing and giggling with Jake and Javy by the dartboard as they take turns covering her eyes and showing her how to throw the dart accurately despite being unable to see. It's a shot he's seen Bagman make about a billion times, but he can't stand seeing their hands on her skin.
For the rest of the night, he's acutely aware of exactly where she is. It's like he's orbiting her, and he makes it a point to stay as far away from her as possible. But no matter what he does, he can’t make the nasty feeling in his chest disappear. Tinkerbell fits in so easily with the rest of the team. She’s laughing with Phoenix and has even pulled Bob out of his shell more gracefully than Hangman had all those months ago. But no matter how he tries, Bradley can’t force himself to be nice to her. So he makes what is probably the worst decision he’s made all night and starts knocking alcohol back. Bradley’s indiscriminate about what he drinks. He does shots of Tequila with Phoenix and then knocks back beers with Fanboy and Bob shortly after.
A few hours after he’s started drinking in earnest later, he’s feeling loose, and that knot in his chest is fading at least a little bit. Payback and Fanboy are laughing in a corner by the windows, and he wants to know what they’re laughing about. It’s a struggle to make his legs move, and he nearly bowls Fanboy over in his clumsy journey to laugh with them.
“Woah, Roos! Man, you’re so drunk!” Fanboy’s always a giggly mess when he’s been drinking. Tonight is no different. He and Fanboy are propped carefully against each other, giggling unendingly when Payback shoves a glass of water into each of their hands. Payback waits until both Fanboy and he have downed the water and sobered up a little before asking his question. "So? What do you think of her, Rooster?"
“Think’a who?” He’s slurring as he speaks, fighting back juvenile giggles as Fanboy makes silly faces next to him.
“Tinkerbell, Bradshaw. Y’know, the girl you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of all night?”
“Oh, her.” Bradley’s so drunk he’s looking for her again. He can’t see her patterned sundress or her pretty hair or her sweet smile or melodic laugh anywhere. But he does see Hangman with his eyes alert, watching for her.
“Bradshaw. What do you think of her?” Payback’s trying to keep his drunken self on track. Bless him.
“She’s beautiful. But, come on. There is no way she's a good Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer. She's all over Hangman. What a slut." His voice has a cruel turn as he slurs out the words.
“Aren’t you being a little harsh, man? You don’t even know her. So what if she’s close to Hangman? That doesn’t make her a slut.”
"She does seem close to him." Fanboy is finally tracking a little bit of the conversation.
"Hah. Even if they're soulmates, I doubt there is a single thought in that little head. I bet she got here on her knees." He can feel his sense of balance reel just a little as he turns away.
He staggers through the bar looking for Penny to close out his tab and get more water. That’s when he makes contact with the one person he’s been trying to avoid all night. He nearly bowls her over, too, in his overeager drunken haze.
“Tinkerbell. You okay? I didn’t mean to run into you like that.”
He can't resist dragging his hands up and down her soft waist as he looks into her eyes. Those expressive eyes look hurt and are swimming with barely suppressed tears.
“Why? I’m just another garden variety slut, right? The only way I got to where I am in my career is on my knees, right? You don't need to apologize if that’s what you think.” It hurts hearing that gorgeous voice sound so rough. His hands sting from where she’d slapped them away.
His throat is inexplicably dry again. But Tinkerbell’s gone before he apologizes or says anything to redeem himself. Well, he’s not sure what he would have said anyways. He staggers to the bar, accepts the glass of water Penny hands him, and looks drunkenly at the squadron as they continue to have fun without him. He catches glimpses of Tinkerbell as she says what looks to be her goodbyes and flounces out the door.
“Bradley, hey, kiddo.” When did Penny get here? “D’you want me to call Mav to take you home?”
He can’t find the words to reply, alcohol weighing his tongue as he fights to talk about everything he’s been feeling tonight. Penny must have decided to call Mav anyways because the next thing he sees when he opens his eyes is Mav in front of him. He’s speaking, but it takes a few moments for Bradley to identify what he’s saying.
“Hey, Baby Goose. Penny called me. She said you needed a ride. D’you have your wallet and the keys to the Bronco?”
“Yeah, Mav.” He fishes the keys out and hands them to his uncle. It’s a bit of a struggle to get out the door, and he can’t help babbling at his uncle and one of the only dads he’s ever known as he staggers out the door propped against his shoulder.
“She was so pretty, Mav.”
“Who, Baby Goose?” Mav sounds confused, and Bradley can’t keep the goofy look off his face as he incoherently talks about Tinkerbell and how much he loves how she looks.
“Why do you like her so much, Brad?” Mav’s still trying to make his words make sense, and the more lucid part of Bradley’s brain understands exactly why. “She feels like what you told me it felt like when you met Uncle Ice. And what you told me Dad felt like when he met Mama.” Having a life like his parents, it's all he can think about, even when he’s blazingly drunk.
It’s quiet in the car as Mav drives him back onto the Naval base and towards his off-base quarters. That silence continues until Mav’s gotten him into his apartment and onto his bed. And that’s when the rest of the story spills out of him.
“But she’s Hangman’s, Mav. Why does she feel like she should be mine if she’s Hangman’s?”
“I dunno, Baby Goose.” His uncle’s running his fingers through his hair like he used to when Bradley was a kid and had a nightmare. “Maybe there’s more going on there than you know? Try to get to know her without assuming she’s someone else’s soul. Try to get to know this girl as she is, and maybe you’ll find that she’s what you need when you least expect it.”
“But what if she wants nothing to do with me?” Bradley’s not surprised to hear a tremor in his voice as he asks that one final question. Sleep’s already pulling on every sense as he fights to stay awake.
“Just be yourself, Bradley. And if you’ve truly done so much damage in one night that you can’t get past, then there’s nothing you can do but hope.” That’s the last thing Bradley remembers before he falls asleep, and he hopes he’ll be able to do what his uncle says the next time he sees her.
I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
Taglist:
@roosters-girl 🛩️ @infamous-reindeer 🛩️ @caitsymichelle13 🛩️ @mattyskies 🛩️ @cosmic-psychickitty 🛩️ @mygyn 🛩️ @julesclues 🛩️ @greenbaby12 🛩️ @bubblegumbeautyqueen 🛩️ @briseisgone 🛩️ @soulmates8 🛩️ @adoringsebstan 🛩️ @meganlpie 🛩️ @daphne-turner 🛩️ @captain-fandomwriter58 🛩️ @caidi-paris 🛩️
Want to be added to the Taglist for this fic? Leave a comment on this masterlist or drop me a message in my inbox!
PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. I DO NOT ACCEPT TAG-LIST REQUESTS FROM BLANK OR AGELESS BLOGS. THIS IS AS MUCH FOR MY SAFETY AND LEGALITY ON THE INTERNET AS WELL AS YOURS.
#star writes#star screaming about top gun#you are my soulmate#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster angst#rooster imagine#bradley bradshaw angst#bradley bradshaw imagine#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#unrequited love#soulmates#soulmate!au#angst#enemies to lovers#miscommunication
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Hey there!
Welcome to my blog, name's Lady G, you can also call me Lady or Gaby, and this is my place for everything I enjoy or I'm interested in like selfshipping, some discourse, fandom and a bit of politics.
I identify as a genderfluid person, so you can use any pronouns when talking to me, I really don't mind.
I enjoy reading and writing, and I hope to start posting about my ideas in here, I'm eager to share my thoughts about my shipps and ideas, but maybe I'll post them in Spanish. I also like to draw and will post my drawings, maybe, I'm not sure.
I'm a selfshipper and also support oc x canon shipps, so this is your safe place for everyone that enjoys this.
I'm cringe, but I'm free.
I really suck at editing and "aesthetic".
Currently accepting anon asks.
You can find my AO3 here.
BYF
- English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any grammar mistake, sometimes I might use Spanish when I post an opinion when I really get angry about something that I don't want to translate.
- I'm a proshipper/anti-harrassment/anti-censorship, I don't support any policing of art or the idea that kinks or the pixels someone enjoys is evidence of any crime, actions on real people are evidence, not shipping FlowerPunk.
- This is a 18+ blog, so if there's a minor they'll get blocked, and if someone is uncomfortable with this kind of blogs you can unfollow or ignore me.
- This is also a kink friendly blog, I might not share some kinks with other people, but I won't judge them, this is your safe place.
- If someone comes here to cause any problem, is an instant block, I don't want to deal with trolls and people who want to argue over stupid things.
- I don't really mind sharing F/Os with anyone, just don't bring canon x canon shipps or be obnoxious about your selfshipps with them in the way of "I love them more than you/I write/draw them better than you/I understand them better than you/You're loving them the wrong way", I'm kind of possessive in that way and want to avoid toxicity.
DNI
- Minors
- Antishippers, antiselfshippers, safeshippers, anti oc x canon
- Bigots (conservatives, TERFs, SWERFs, LGBTQphobes, islamophobes, racists, etc.)
- ED, SH, radqueer or related blogs
- If you use he/him or they/them pronouns as a way to try to misgender me thinking I'm a cis woman or treat me like a cis man
- Pro Israel/justify what Israel is doing or has been doing all these years
- Pro AMLO/support and/or justify AMLO (current Mexico's president) and his political party's actions/think any of Mexico's presidents since 2000 is the bad guy except AMLO/think AMLO is Mexico's messiah or best president
- If you'll try to lecture me on economic, cultural, social, etc. aspects about Mexico or being a Latin person and you're not Latin (like with all the "Oye Primos" thing), or you get offended in the name of Latins by things that concern us and you're not Latin (like the Mario poncho thing, or the Encanto drama, we Latins didn't get offended with that, but we did get offended with the American response, when they were trying to lecture us on what really offended us)
- Pro contact MAPs/pedos, zoos, necros, etc.
Favorite characters...
This is a section for characters that wouldn't only fit on a category of my F/O list, but also are characters I like a lot over others from their source material, or are just my favorite ones
- Sauron/Mairon/Annatar/many other names from Lord of the Rings
- Daemon Targaryen from House of the Dragon
F/Os list and tags
(there's no specific order, I'll list them in the order I remember them, might add more in the future)
If you wish to interact with any of them feel free to do so, but they can be OoC
Main
- Miguel O'Hara from Spiderverse movies (🩸🕷️)
- Hobie Brown from Spiderverse movies (🎸🕷️)
- Gladiolus Amiticia from Final Fantasy XV (🛡️⚔️)
- Maegor I "The Cruel" Targaryen from A Song of Ice and Fire (🩸🐲)
- Jean-Pierre Polnareff from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🥖⚔️)
- Robert Edward O. Speedwagon from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🎩👔)
- Syzoth/Reptile from Mortal Kombat games (🦎🥷🏻)
- Fujin from Mortal Kombat games (💨⚔️)
- Tenya Iida from My Hero Academia (🏃🏻♂️🟦)
- Brienne of Tarth from A Song of Ice and Fire (🗡️💎)
F/Os I also love
- Mike Zacharius from Attack on Titan (👃⚔️)
- Reiner Braun from Attack on Titan (🏃🏻♂️🛡️)
- Phoenix Ikki from Saint Seiya (🪽🔥)
- Aries Mu from Saint Seiya (🐏🔨)
- Scorpio Milo from Saint Seiya (🦂🪡)
- Gemini Saga from Saint Seiya (♊🌓)
- Thanatos from Saint Seiya (💀⬛)
- Dende from Dragon Ball (🟢🏔️)
- Raditz from Dragon Ball (🩸👊)
- Supreme Kai from Dragon Ball (💜🔮)
- Broly from Dragon Ball (🐶🥦)
- Mezo Shoji from My Hero Academia (🐙🔵)
- Thomas Hewitt from Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies (2003-2006) (🎭🩸)
- Brahms Heelshire from The Boy (🎭🧸)
- Yautja/ Predator: Scar (☠️⚔️), Feral Predator (☠️🐻), Fugitive Predator (💀🔪) from Predator franchise
- Drax the Destroyer from Guardians of the Galaxy (👊🔪)
- Ragnvaldr/Outlander from Fear and Hunger (🐺🪓)
- Nicholas D. Wolfwood from Trigun (🚬✝️)
- Millions Knives/Nai from Trigun (🪴🔪)
- Takeda Takahashi from Mortal Kombat games (⛓️🟡)
- Erron Black from Mortal Kombat games (🩸🔫)
- Kuai Liang from Mortal Kombat games (❄️🧊 as Sub-Zero) (🦂🔥 as Scorpion)
- Zeffeero/Rain from Mortal Kombat games (🥷🏻💧)
- Alucard from Hellsing (🧛🏻♂️🩸)
- Toshikazu Hazamada from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🤏🏻🎾)
- Mikitaka Hazekura from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (👽🍦)
- Rykiel from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🧑🏻🚀🐄)
- Keicho Nijimura from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🪖🏹)
- Santana from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🗿☁️)
- Firelord Ozai from Avatar: The Last Airbender (☄️🔥)
- Vincent Valentine from Final Fantasy VII (⚰️♦️)
- Glossu "Beast" Rabban Harkonnen from Dune (🦅🩸)
- Chase Young from Xiaolin Showdown (🐉🥣)
- Kevin Levin from Ben 10 series (👽🚘)
- Adam/The Creature from Frankenstein (🪡📚)
- Aegon II Targaryen from House of the Dragon (🐲🟢)
- Cregan Stark from A Song of Ice and Fire (🐺❄️)
Platonic F/Os
- Yuga Aoyama from My Hero Academia (✨💎)
- Narancia Ghirga from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🍊🛩️)
- Finrod Felagund from Lord of the Rings (🧝🏼♂️🎻)
- Lúthien Tinuviel from Lord of the Rings (💃🏻🐺)
Familial F/Os
- Ned Stark from A Song of Ice and Fire (🗡️🐺)
- Aragorn Elessar from Lord of the Rings (👑🗡️)
- Samwise Gamgee from Lord of the Rings (🥔🍳)
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"I make murderous men cute, that's just my thing."
Note: For personal reasons, I like writing soft villains. I don't like the implication that makes my version of them "fake", lesser, or completely devoid from the canon I take large inspiration from. I'm not going to argue over preferences/interpretations, just don't be a dick about it. Ranking certain depictions as more "true" than others will get you blocked.
Greetings! I'm Nightmares or Silver. I'm an asexual, 22 year old transman (he/him) and this is my blog for most of my self shipping antics. I have a type and it's either evil or slightly crazed with glasses lol. I mostly write (too much) fanfiction and make random posts for my ships. I love hearing about other's F/Os and seeing all your guys' lovely creations! I am plural. If you don't know what this means or how to avoid spreading negative plural stereotypes, do not follow me.
I am okay with sharing all F/Os (except the OCs).
My main f/o is Mordecai Heller from Lackadaisy, who I've paired with my S/I Silver (he/him). I've written a lot of lore about them at this point, so if you ask about them expect to get your ear talked off.
Ao3 / F/Os / Lacka FOs / NSFW / Lacka College AU
DNI
*Certain canon x canon ships make me uncomfortable, particularly Rocky x Mordecai, Rocky x Serafine, and Rocky x Mordecai x Serafine. I also am not comfortable with Mordecai being shipped with Atlas or Mitzi, and/or Ivy or Freckle being shipped with Mordecai, Viktor, or Mitzi and Atlas as well. Freckle x the Savoys would also make me uncomfortable.
Please tag these ships properly or let me know a tag you use for them so I can block it. This does not include poly selfships with them, except where Atlas and Mitzi x Mordecai or Ivy x Mordecai are concerned. Viktor x Ivy or Freckle too, and Ivy or Freckle with Atlas or Mitzi. For those I will just outright block you. Sorry, but they squeak me out.
Not plural safe (if you make jokes about or reblog jokes that go along the lines of "I have an alter ego/other personality so I'm crazy" you're not plural safe). Minor x adult, incest, or bestiality shippers (aka characters that are just animals). Pro ship. Anti self diagnosis. Bigots of any kind. Exclusionists. Unnecessarily dictate how characters should be written (especially asexual characters). If you have F/Os from creepypastas I probably won't be comfy interacting with you. Drama/discourse blogs. Please tag things pertaining to the deaths of my F/Os, including theories. Thank you!
I have villain F/Os and enjoy following others with villain F/Os. If that bothers you this is not the place for you. That being said, characters that canonically commit acts of CSA, SA, or child abuse/murder make me extremely uncomfortable and I may block you if you self ship with villains of that descriptor. I am not comfortable with Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde F/Os, please don't follow me if you have them.
I hate vague posting with a passion and will block you if I see you do it.
About Discord Servers
I don't want to burst anyone's bubble, but, I don't join Discord servers. Why? Simply put, I block people for the sake of my own mental health. Some of these people are within the communities I reside most often in. However, Discord servers often mean I have to bend my block list to get along in and have a comfortable time in said server. 9 times out of 10 the instincts that made me block someone were correct. Therefore I prefer my blog because I can have an easier time curating my interactions with the community.
That being said I am totally down to chat with you on discord if you want to add me! Chatting one on one gives me more power to block people that make me uncomfortable and avoid people on my blocklist.
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Room 23 (Pt. 3) // Austin!Elvis x Reader
part one ♡ part two
Comment here to be added to the tag list
A/N: Since it has been so long since I’ve updated this story, I decided to make it extra long and spicy for you guys. I apologize for the late update, school and l life has kept me super busy I have a lot of ideas going for the future. As always, requests are open and welcome to suggestions!
Rating: 18+ only, minors dni
Warning(s): A bit lengthy, oral (f receiving), reader's first experience, a bit of swearing, slight word change from the original hayride scene
Prompt: You're seeing your boyfriend Elvis' performance for the first time and you’re having a great time, until you see him practically touching noses with a girl in the audience. After the show, you confront Elvis about the interaction to which he reassures you, in more ways than one, that he’s all yours.
Word count: 3,446 words
Tag list: @otherbluefae @shynovelist @kaitaesupremacy
⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•
You had been pumped all day in excitement to finally be able to see your boyfriend, and best friend, perform. Elvis had confided in you throughout your years of friendship about his passions for music, making it more special that you finally get to see his dreams coming true.
“You ready, darlin’?” Elvis called behind you, causing you to turn around to the dark-haired man in front of you. He was dressed in a loose pink suit with black accents and a black button up shirt tucked into the pants. Smudged eyeliner and mascara lined his eyes to add a perfectly rugged look, complimenting his slicked back hair.
The sight of him alone caused your heart to begin rapidly beating, along with another heartbeat somewhere else. “U-Um, yeah, I’m ready,” You spoke once words circulated your brain once again, the stuttering caused a small smile to pull at his lips.
"You look..," You started, taking in his appearance, "hot." The word slipped out of your mouth before you could think, causing a small chuckle to bubble from his chest. "Not as hot as you, lil mama," He stepped closer, setting your petite hands into his before stealing a small kiss. He twirled you in a circle, your baby pink dress fanning out and causing you to erupt into giggles while stopping in front of his grinning face.
"Are you ready, my future superstar?" You asked in a half-joking manner, turning the attention back to him. You knew Elvis had so much talent that needed to be shared with the world, but also knew that he greatly doubted himself. Elvis was completely unaware of how talented he truly was.
"A man can only dream, baby," Elvis responded solely to the nickname, seemingly avoiding the question. His blue eyes staring himself down in a small mirror, face slowly dropping his cocky smile.
"You will do great things, Elvis. I believe that with my entire heart," You stepped closer towards him, slowly planting a hand onto his cheek. The touch caused his eyes to shift focus to you, uncertainty in his eyes. "You have an incredible voice and everyone needs to hear it. Don't get so in your head like I know you always do," You encouraged, his own hand cupping over your own as his eyes never left yours.
"Just be yourself, Elvis, and everything else will come naturally. You've got this baby. Now show all of them who Elvis Presley is," You finished before leaning up on your toes to kiss his cheek, taking his hand in your own before guiding him to the car.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
Your seat was within the front row of chairs, side by side with the other men and women of the audience. Jimmie Rodgers Snow took the stage before Elvis, his country sound filling the room and inviting the audience to clap along. Before long, Jimmie's set had finished, leaving an empty stage and anticipation for the next act.
"He's a young singer from Memphis, Tennessee, with a record out at Sun label. It's alllll over the radio. Give him a warm Hayride welcome to Mr. Elvis Presley,"
This is it.
Elvis appeared from behind the curtain, taking his place on center stage as a man adjusted his microphone. As he put the guitar strap across his shoulder, your heart began to beat rapidly in anticipation for what was about to happen.
The spotlight now shined on Elvis, focusing everyone’s attention onto him. After exchanging words with the host, Elvis took a wavering breath as his blue eyes scanned the audience. With the spotlight directly into his eyes it was difficult to make out faces, just the outline of many people sitting within the audience.
“It goes somethin’ like this,” He spoke into the mic, a bit of feedback screeched in response. Silence.
Elvis began to sing the intro to Baby, Let’s Play House, taking a moment to observe the audience. “Get a haircut freak,” A man yells from the audience, earning a few laughs throughout the audience. You scoff and roll your eyes at the immaturity, looking around to see where the comment came from.
As your eyes landed back onto Elvis, it was like a transformation within him. One second he is a shy, nervous boy and the second he begins to sing with the band, he becomes a confident man. As the song takes over him, Elvis’ legs began to wiggle to the beat.
You’ve never seen anyone move like that before but seeing Elvis doing it brings a warm feeling throughout your body. Your eyes widened slightly, the sight of him wiggling his pelvis on stage had awakened feelings you ‘ve never felt and you’re not alone.
Just as the audience began to warm to Elvis’ performance, a small scream escaped a girl’s lips only a few seats from you. She covered her mouth as if the scream was beyond her control, awakening the same feelings that you were having. A small part of you was jealous that another girl felt that way about your boyfriend, but the other part of you understood.
Almost like a chain reaction, girls across the audience began to scream almost out of their control. Elvis' wiggling had the same effect on these girls that he had on you and you weren't sure if you were prepared for that.
Within seconds, girls started to spring from their spots in the audience to be close to Elvis. High-pitched squeals filled the room alongside Elvis’ singing, leaving the men confused in their seats. You stand with the rest of the girls, trying your best to reach the front of the stage.
By the time you reached the front, your vison comes to focus on Elvis bent down towards a brunette girl. The closer he bent down, you noticed her leaning forward almost as if to kiss him. Heat flows through your body, a feeling you have never felt before. Jealousy? Everything else in the room becomes background noise, your eyes and mind only focused on the closeness between them.
Their eyes connected as if Elvis put her in a trance, but once inches apart, Elvis breaks from her to rear back towards the stage. Your stomach twists thinking about what could have happened, causing your face to twinge slightly. Almost as if on cue, Elvis’ eyes happened to land on you.
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
After the show, you found your way towards the dressing rooms where you knew they would soon arrive. While awaiting for Elvis, you spoke with Gladys and Vector about how fantastic the performance was. Despite feeling hurt, you did not want to ruin the moment for Elvis or his parents.
The boys appeared from behind the stage and towards the dressing room, Elvis’ sweat glistening under the light as they got closer. You leaned against the wall to patiently await your turn to speak to Elvis, with your arms crossed over your chest. Gladys was the first to swarm Elvis, "Oh Bewbie,” She cooed, embracing him tightly with murmured compliments.
Once Elvis made his way through, he found his way to you. Arms crossed and leaned against the wall, you had a slight pout placed upon your lips. Elvis' head tilted slightly at your stance, "Hey Bug'," He said as he approached you.
Your face softened into a small smile as you straightened to hug him, his arms enveloping you into a warm embrace. "That was-" You began, scrambling to find the words, "You were amazing, E," You settled, your grip around him tightening for a moment before pulling away to see his face.
"Thanks, darlin'," He spoke, his bright blue eyes fixated on your own. His hands placed onto the sides of your waist, feeling him inch closer like a magnet. Just as his face reached inches from yours, the heat of his breath fanned your face and your mind flashes to the girl in the same position just a while ago. The thought of the brunette girl caused you to slowly pull away from his tempting kiss, clearing your throat and looking towards the ground.
His eyebrows furrowed together in slight confusion, eyes darting between yours as if trying to read you. Elvis wasn't entirely sure what was bothering you but he was determined to find out. "C'mon, let's step in the dressing room, hm?" He offered his hand for you, trying his best not to attract the attention of others. You look around the room at everyone before your eyes land back on Elvis, placing your much smaller hand in his with a small nod.
Guiding you into the dressing room, Elvis closed the door behind him with a lock. You had stepped over towards the vanity, standing near the chair awaiting for Elvis to speak.
The raven haired boy turned around to face you, stepping towards the vanity. "I tried to kiss you but you pulled away from me," He finally said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he takes a seat beside you. You stayed silent for a moment as you collected your thoughts.
"Talk to me, darlin’, did I do somethin' wrong?" He asked, bringing his hand to your own before lacing your fingers together. You inhale sharply, eyes focused on your intertwined fingers as you began. "You almost kissed her," You let the words slip, the stress of the past few hours finally out in the open.
His eyes softened at your words and his eyebrows relaxed as the realization set in. "Is that what this is about?" He began in a soft tone as he stepped closer towards you, his face coming inches away from your own as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. Even in this moment, you could feel your heart beating in your throat yet you couldn't keep your eyes off him.
"Bug, you're my bestest girl. No other girl can compare," His voice gentle as he stroked your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You knew from the look in his eyes that he was being truthful, but you still weren't quite done. "You were this close to her face, Elvis," You pointed out, using your pointer and middle finger to measure the short distance apart. "How am I supposed to know that you weren't going to kiss her or that she wouldn't kiss you?" You ask, a hint of aggravation in your voice.
"Are you jealous?" He asked in a teasing voice, trying to lighten the mood which earned a playful scoff from you. "Whatever," You mumbled teasingly, crossing your arms across your chest once again as you tried to fight a smile from growing upon your lips.
A low chuckle grumbled in his chest, "Darlin’, now you know that I'd never lie to you. I've made that known since day one," He explained in his slow southern drawl, wrapping his fingers around your wrists gently in attempt to uncross your arms.
"I have worked for years to get to this point with you, Lil' Momma. All the late night phone calls, the awkward family dinners, sneakin’ in your window when you’re grounded, stayin' over past my curfew and gettin' in trouble with momma," He started to list off, guiding your arms to relax down to your sides.
"You're all I've been thinkin' about since the day I met you. Those beautiful y/e/c eyes, those full pouty lips, everything. You're always on my mind. There ain't no girl that drives me as crazy as you, Y/N. Not even that lil’ brunette," His hand moved up to brush some of your hair behind your ear, causing your cheeks to heat.
To break the growing tension, and the throbbing foreign sensation forming below, your eyes advert to the floor. "All that is stage performance and nothin’ more, baby. No matter what happens on that stage, I've always got you on my mind," He rested his hand on your chin, gently lifting your head to force eye contact once again.
His words were reassuring to you, allowing you to relax from the stressful feeling glooming over you from the past couple hours. And now that you’ve had time to calm down, you’ve started to focus more on Elvis and his after-performance appearance. The previously slicked back hair had now come slightly disheveled, allowing strands of black hair to fall onto his face, which still glistened with sweat. The eyeliner he had carefully placed around his eyes had now smudged down to create a rebellious look.
"Show me" You challenged.
Elvis' eyebrow raised slightly, wondering if he heard you right. His eyes traveled across your face for a moment in thought, "Hm," He hummed lowly, sending vibrations through his chest and a tingling sensation through your body. "Show you what, Momma?" His lips curled into a small smirk, making your stomach flip.
"Show me that you want me, El-" You began to repeat yourself until you were cut off by the feeling of his warm, soft lips eagerly pressing against yours. Instantly you move your lips in sync against his as your arms instinctively move to wrap around the back of his neck.
His larger hands were placed upon your waist, holding you flush against him as he moved his lips expertly against your own. He gently glided his tongue across your bottom lip, walking you backwards until your back pressed against the vanity. He swiped everything off the surface before lifting you onto the vanity, stepping in between your legs. The swift motion caused a small gasp to escape your lips and break the kiss, giving Elvis the opportunity to pepper kisses along the corner of your mouth and down your jaw.
The feeling of his lips against your bare skin sends electricity through your body, forcing you to lean your head back to give him more access. Elvis takes the opportunity to begin pressing kisses down your jaw and neck, “You’re so damn beautiful,” He grumbled lowly against your neck as he started to gently nip at your skin. An involuntary moan escaped your lips at the feeling, earning a small groan from Elvis in response.
He trailed kisses back up towards your lips as his hands began toying with the fabric of your blouse, pulling away to breathe as he rest his forehead against yours. His dark, lustful eyes scanned your face with an expression you’ve never seen before. “I want to make you feel good, Y/N,” He started, his voice raspy and low. “You trust me, baby?” He asked as his eyes finally landed on yours, awaiting a response, and your heart began to pound hard in your chest. “I trust you, E,” Your voice just above a whisper as you maintained eye contact, anticipating his next move.
Without another word, Elvis began to slowly lift your blouse as he broke eye contact to focus on your newly exposed skin. He discarded your blouse onto the floor which left you in a black bra, shivers running down your spine from the exposure. He soaked in the view only moments before reattaching his lips to your skin, pressing kisses down along your collarbone. Elvis’ long slender fingers ran down the top of your back until reaching the clasps of your bra, unhooking each of the hooks slowly. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” He grumbled against your skin, his kisses trailing down your chest and towards the valley of your breasts.
You arch your back in response to the feeling, leaning your head back against the mirror of the vanity. “Don’t stop,” You breathed out, feeling a wetness begin to pool in your panties. As soon as the last hook came undone, the straps of the bra pooled down your shoulders until Elvis pulled the bra off completely. Your cheeks began to heat again, suddenly aware of your bare breasts being exposed to Elvis for the first time. “So, so perfect,” He groaned, kissing down to one of your breasts and cupping the other into his hand. You gasped softly, letting out a moan once his lips wrapped around your tender nipple. “Mmm,” You hummed out in pleasure, tangling your fingers into his hair as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud.
You leaned your head back against the mirror and close your eyes, tugging gently on his hair to signal you wanted more. A small whine broke from your lips once he pulled away from your breast, finally giving attention to the other. The building throbbing sensation becoming too much, you lift your hips slightly off the edge of the vanity to push towards Elvis’ hips. A small hiss escapes his lips from the contacts before he gently gripped your hips to still them, “This is all about you, darling,” He said once he pulled away from your chest.
You tilted your head to watch as Elvis got down onto his knees in between your legs. He hungrily began to kiss below your breasts, trailing down your stomach and covering every inch of your skin. “Lift your hips for me,” He instructed in a gentle tone as he tapped your hips with his fingers. As instructed, you lift your hips up enough for Elvis to tug your skirt down your legs and onto the floor alongside your other clothes.
Now left only in your black panties, you anticipated his movements as he leaned his head between your legs. Your eyes now focused intently as he pressed gentle, wet kisses along your hips and inner thighs. He focused on pleasuring you in all the best ways, wanting your first experience to be unforgettable.
“You’re sure you want this, momma?” He asked one last time as his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties, awaiting a response before continuing. You looked down into his eyes, giving him a small nod, “I want you,” You responded eagerly. That response was all he needed to take your panties off and throwing it into the growing pile, causing you to close your legs from the exposure on your soaked core.
Elvis gently pulled your legs apart, resting his hands upon your outer thighs to hold you in place as he began to press sloppy kisses along your inner thighs. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth in anticipation, eyes fixated on his lips as they moved closer to where you need him most. His lust-filled orbs meet your own as he pressed the softest kiss to your core, causing you to let out a soft whine.
"Please,” You begged and that was all Elvis needed as he began to run his tongue up your entrance towards your sensitive button. A moan fell from your lips from the new sensation and your head pressed back against the mirror once more. Elvis' eyes were trained on your face as he continued to pleasure you, circling his tongue into a pattern against your sensitive aching clit.
Your moans intensified with his movements, leaning your head down to look him in the eye. The sight of him between your thighs will be something you remember for awhile. "O-Oh my-" You gasped out once Elvis began to suck gently, tangling your fingers into his hair once more. As he picked up pace, you couldn't help but to tug at his hair from the intense pleasure you were feeling. Elvis groaned against you, sending vibrations through your clit and causing you to lift your hips off the vanity once again.
"Elvis-" You breathed out between your pleasure-filled moans, feeling an unfamiliar pit building within your stomach. His eyes were pitch black, fixated on your pleasure as he continued to work his tongue. "Come, baby," He hummed against your core and you moan out, feeling the building pressure reaching it's peak. Within moments, the pressure releases into bliss and left your legs in a shaky mess. Elvis slowed his tongue, riding out your high until you were a mess beneath him.
"My bestest girl," He praised, pressing one kiss to your lower stomach before grabbing your clothes off the floor. "Did you enjoy yourself?" Elvis asked with a wink and your cheeks heated. You nod sheepishly as you scoot off the vanity and your feet plant to the floor. "That felt amazing," You admit in a soft voice, your cheeks beyond cherry red as he began to redress you.
"You deserve to feel good. What my girl wants, my girl gets. You need reassurance? Oh I'll reassure you, princess," He explained with a small smirk upright on his lips as he finished tucking your blouse back into your skirt, as it was prior. This man will be the death of me, you think.
#austin!elvis x reader#austin!elvis smut#austin butler fanfic#austin elvis imagine#elvis fanfic#austin butler smut#elvis smut#austin x reader#elvis x reader#austin x y/n#elvis x y/n#elvis 2022
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Welcome to the itty bitty helliverse blog!
Now you may be wondering, what’s the purpose of this blog? Well, technically this is an rp blog based around the among us babies trend from about 2 years ago. Where people pretended to have their own among us bean they took care of. However in this case it features Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss characters!
Now, this being a rp blog based around the concept of the characters basically being pets in real life, this entire blog gets a heavy ‘unreality’ content/trigger warning! Please do not participate, or please stop participating, if you find it taking a toll on your mental health!
All of my out of character messages will be tagged with #𓆩⟡ Out of Creation, and will usually be uncolored.
Now, information below if you're interested!
𓆩⟡𓆪 About the caretaker !
Hi, I’m Creation. I run this blog, obviously. I’ve dedicated my time to studying and sharing information about these little guys so that people may have an easier time taking care of their Hazbin or Boss (a little strange how the latter is named that.)
I’ve had encounters and have cared for many different kinds, and have even seen some of the rarer ones. On this blog I plan to let others share stories, provide advice, identify these critters in the case you can’t, create informational logs, and even share a few of my own stories!
Please, feel free to leave a message in my mailbox.
I do have a few rules for this blog, these being;
1〕 Please avoid sending messages that describe nsfw. I’d like this space to be a place where everyone can come and share happenings. (If I can find a proper way that guarantees a minor wouldn’t see it, this rule may change.)
2〕 If a message you send may need a trigger or content warning, please include it at the beginning of your message! I may struggle to do it myself otherwise.
3〕 If you need something tagged, please tell me and I’ll (try my best) to correct it! Don’t hesitate to remind me if I slip up.
4〕 While there is no explicit ‘dni’ (they’re pointless.) I do kindly ask that people who would typically be on one avoid this blog! If you aren’t sure if it does or doesn’t include you, feel free to ask!
5〕 If something is unclear, feel free to ask for clarification! I’m very insistent on this, I do not bite :)
6〕 Anons may use sign offs! I’ll try my best to tag and keep track of all of them, however this list will not be expressly public (at least not immediately.) Feel free to ask if a sign off is taken or not!
7〕 Make it clear if a message is ‘out of character’
8〕 I reserve the right to not post your message, with or without a reason.
Organizational Tags ;
#𓆩⟡ Out of Creation
#𓆩⟡ Message from Creation
#𓆩⟡ Media from Creation
#𓆩⟡ Message Received
#𓆩⟡ Hazbin Care Log
#𓆩⟡ Boss Care Log
#𓆩⟡ Informational Post
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel rp#hazbin hotel ask blog#hazbin hotel roleplay#hazbin rp#helluva boss#helluva boss roleplay#helluva boss rp#helluva boss ask blog#helluva rp#𓆩⟡ Out of Creation#(technically)
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You wanna know an example of "this sets me off for personal reasons even if it IS 'just fiction' and not inherently harmful to anyone else"-media I was talking about? You want an example of how something fictional can hurt you even if it absolutely doesn't intend to?
Where the Wild Things Are (2009). My sister and I hate that movie.
It's a hatred exacerbated by the fact that I HATE PUPPETS STOP LIEKING DARK CRYSTAL**, we think it's pretentious, abelist (like hell), cruel, and also us both needing some cheering up and god did that movie NOT do it for us. Legit, 9 is a more rewarding positive movie from that year. All of that is me dunking on the movie for what's in it's control and so me 'hating' it in general, I guess.
But what I really hate is Carol absolutely reminds me of my dad.
My dad was deeply depressed and rage-prone and shot up my mom's china and threatened my sister's animals while we stayed in a safe house to avoid him. My dad who didn't want to but absolutely drove us away in his own self-destruction.
Everything about Carol reeks of my dad kind of especially since, while he's supposed to be the kid's emotions or whatever personified as a monster, he's played by a grown man. All that does is haunt me even more because it reminds me of how my dad was genuinely hurt by us leaving but whom we just couldn't stand to be around anymore because of his aggression. My sister and I both saw that movie the year our dad drove us away and then a year after he died from phnemonia that he got drinking himself to death in his misery.
I want this known to anyone reading this post: Where the Wild Things Are is not an objectively bad movie. You are not a bad, ableist person if you like that movie for any reason hon you do you. I'm happy for you.
I'm saying: keep that shit away from me. I genuinely don't wanna be all "cuz music killed my grandma" here cuz no, it didn't literally do that. But I use the tags I'm using now not just to stay out of your guys' way ((you could always "not look")) but because it hurts too much in the current day and brings up unpleasant emotions inside myself.
If you have any feelings like the kind I just described for a fictional character/couple/story- don't let ANYONE tell you to just 'get over it' and 'you can just not look'. You're entitled to your own comfortzone within your own fandom. You're also, however, responsible, and should not be using your pain to hurt people who aren't doing real harm by blacklisting them or putting them on a DNI list by way of liking that thing you hate.
Put people on DNI lists for things that are bad, not just things you hate.
#cw: trauma#antis#critical fandom#media literacy#media analysis#antipuppets#profandom#where the wild things are critical
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Spamton Blog Introduction
Hello! My name is Kurai, and this is my blog! Here are some quick things about me:
⟟ have ⏃ typing quirk (⟟-i ⏃-a)
⟟ have ADHD and Autism, so if you can, tone indicators would be great :)
⟟ have very strong hyperfixations so you will see ⏃ LOT of the same thing for ⏃ LONG time (im so sorry)
My pronouns are he/they void/voidself :) ⟟ dont really have ⏃ preference but please don't use strictly they/them, ⟟ like variety with my pronouns
⟟ live under ⏃ rock so if you ask me about any other media ⟟ haven't hyperfixated over you can almost guarantee that I've never heard of it
This blog is strictly Spamton themed! If my hyperfixation changes, ⟟ will simply make another blog and keep this one for anyone who wants to run through it :)
The DNI List (It's Not Scary)
Kindly DNI if you are any of the following (warning if your blog is empty and looks like ⏃ bot account, your gonna get blocked. set an actual pfp and make ur profile decorated to avoid being blocked):
Racist
Homophobic
Transphobic
Proshippers
Xenophobic
Ableist
Zoophiles
Pedophiles
Anti-Tone Indicators (If this is even ⏃ thing?)
Toxic people in general
People under the age of 13 (pls get off the app)
Dsmp Fans (this includes smps made by the original dsmp members) (toxic ones)
Genshin fans (toxic ones)
The Interact List (Please Interact)
Please follow or at least interact if you like or are part of the following:
Deltarune fans, specifically Spamton lovers (please I'm so desperate)
Undertale fans, ⟟ don't post about Undertale but ⟟ like talking about it :)
Artist, fanfic writers, etc you guys are super cool :D
People who love theorizing and sharing headcanons (YOU ARE MY LIGHT PLEASE 🙏)
Really any good person (⟟ will not dislike you or shame you unless your on the DNI list, then you're getting blocked)
If you ever get scared of interacting remember asks can be anonymous, and ⟟ love answering cool questions :)
Tags ⟟ Use On My Blog
Here are the tags ⟟ will use on posts so it's easier for you to find them! ⟟ find them pretty fun and ⟟ hope you see them the same way :)
1. YIPPEE SO COOL!!! (reblogs cutey)
⟟ know it's ⏃ typo but I'm rolling with it, this is my reblog tag when ⟟ reblog stuff!
2. THEORYS?!?! ⟟ LOVE THEORIES!!!
My theory tag for when ⟟ post ⏃ theory (As is the point of this blog, which ⟟ need to do more often)
3. bro id headcanon that tbh
This is also ⏃ headcanon blog, so ⟟ will use this tag for when ⟟ post headcanons of any kind (Which ⟟ ALSO need to do more often)
4. writers block doesnt exist if ⟟ dont look at it
When ⟟ write anything, whether it be musical remakes of Toby Fox songs (which ⟟ have hesitated on posting) or fanfic writing, this'll be the tag for it :)
5. [%$&¥] posts
When ⟟ just post whatever is on my mind (Almost like mind reading :O )
6. queue the questions
When ⟟ answer asks! You could find the answer to your's here!
7. other content that isnt the number one rated salesman
Self explanatory but an extremely rare tag to find because I'm so obsessed with spamton
If you got this far, congrats! Here have pictures of my cats :)
#spamton#deltarune#spamton g spamton#deltarune spamton#spamton deltarune#deltarune spamton g spamton#yippee#yippee so cool!!! (reblogs cutey)#THEORYS?!?! ⟟ LOVE THEORIES!!!#bro id headcanon that tbh#writers block doesnt exist if ⟟ dont look at it#[%$&¥] posts#queue the questions#other content that isnt the number one rated salesman#but this is spamton related#pls send asks into my ask box ⟟ love answering them :)#we stan spamton here
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y'alrite, i'm Jeff!
27 | ENFP-T | Liverpool 🇬🇧
biromantic asexual trans man, selfshipper, kinnie and digital artist
i can also go by the names Jeffo, Asobi, Dexter and Ron, but mainly just Jeff. my # 1 comfort film and character is Bolt⚡🧡 my main f/o is Haida 🎸❤️
this is my main variety blog where i post whatever - my selfships, kinnie stuff, reblogs, general artwork, text posts and personal life stuff. everything has unique tags (to the best of my memory / ability) so if you want to filter anything and follow for something specific i dont mind at all :) not as active of a selfshipper as i used to be but i still love my f/os :)
not the chattiest over DMs, but i always aim to give back the love i receive 🫶
icon art and banner art by myself
▫️ artist, editor, writer, commissioner
▫️ not all art is mine, i will credit my artists and specify if so!
▫️ all my socials here on my taplink
▫️ for my anthro content: i do not use the furry label and i am not part of the fandom, please do not refer to me as one thank u
f/o list, kin list and DNI list under the read more cut!
main f/o:
Haida is my main closest f/o of 5+ years, and the one most spoken about on my main blog! he's right up there with Bolt on the level of comfort this character gives me. we've been through so much together and have such a realistically developed arc in our canon because of such. i've had many hyperfixes and i have many f/os, but it always comes back to Haida at the end :) he's the longest running and the one i'm closest with ❤️
full f/o list:
Clementine (Stray), Jack (Final Space), Tadano (Aggretsuko), Rivet & Clank (Rift Apart), Mr Wolf (The Bad Guys), Captain Gantu (Lilo & Stitch), Nick Wilde (Zootopia), Agent Classified (Madagascar), Spanx (Whiplash), Ellis (L4D2)
my ship tags are listed in the tags of this post for ease of browsing / blocking. not all of them have tags or content (yet), pls ask if you need one tagging!
#jaida hyenas / jaidano Haida and Tadano #gantobyte Gantu #jetrivet / jetric and clank / riftapoly Rivet and Clank #hyena x weasel / genron poly Spanx and Redmond #wolf x hyena Mr Wolf #jeffentine Clementine #maw boyfriends at work Tylor Tuskmon #greywilde Nick Wilde #jeff4ellis Ellis L4D2 #jeffified Agent Classified
main kins:
full kin list:
WALL-E (the movie), Luigi (Super Mario Bros), Muta (The Cat Returns), Dexter (Dexter's Lab), Clarence (the cartoon), Mike Wazowski (Monsters Inc), Haida (Aggretsuko [also f/o]), Bob Belcher (Bob's Burgers), Wile E Coyote (Looney Tunes), Creeper (Minecraft [cringe ik]), Bob Parr (The Incredibles), Scooby Doo (the cartoon), Homer Simpson (The Simpsons [older seasons only]), Moxxie (Helluva Boss [i do not support Vivzie]), Jim Hawkins (Treasure Planet), Barley (Onward), Gary Goodspeed (Final Space), Katie Mitchell (TMVSTM), Both Remy & Emile (Ratatouille), Reuben (Lilo & Stitch), Bandit (Bluey)
DNI criteria:
proshippers, terfs, any form of trans or LGBT+ phobe, tories, anyone nonce adjacent, folks who ship with Haida or kin my main kins (explained below)
please do not interact if you self ship with Haida (the others are fine for doubles!) this includes his 'simps', crushes, and anyone who talks about him in a romantic or sexual way. you're absolutely valid, it just makes me very uncomfortable to see or talk about.
for the same reason, please don't interact if you kin the hyena species, Wakko, Ron or Legoshi. seeing others gives me the same discomfort in ways i struggle to explain, because of an identity disorder i'm not too comfy elaborating on in public, my apologies. you're equally as valid, just prefer you didn't interact that's all!
my goal isn't prevention, only harmless avoidance. please respect my bounderies, thank you! your cooperation with my comfort, even if it understandably doesn't make sense to you personally, is appreciated ;;
#self ship promo#new pinned!!#moving all my ships to this blog now!#jaida hyenas#jaidano#gantobyte#jetrivet#jetric and clank#riftapoly#hyena x weasel#genron poly#wolf x hyena#jeffentine#maw boyfriends at work#greywilde#jeff4ellis#jeffified#ill add other tags once i know what to add
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Hey friendly reminder that this is a fem!reader dni blog!! I write for the theys, gays, and transmascs because as mentioned in my description these fandoms don't have a lot of male!reader/gn!reader content. I kindly ask if you're a female reader (excluding she/theys or gender fluid readers because they're on the nonbinary/non cisgender spectrum) to unfollow and overall do not interact with this blog. As stated in my post listing my boundaries. If not of your own volition you will be blocked, nothing against you guys but my content isn't for female readers and I assure you you'll have plenty of content elsewhere especially for these fandoms which is why it's a part of my dni list. If you have more questions please see my boundaries list and if you have more after my DMs are open. I have pinned my boundaries post to avoid any confusion, Thank you! Stay safe! <3
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