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kechiwrites · 7 months

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totally platonic

johnny "soap" mactavish x best friend!reader kinktober countdown, day three (recording)

synopsis: soap helps you give your ex something real to worry about. 🎥

wc: 1.6k

cw: recording / making a sex tape, revenge, allusions to potential cheating (emotional?), fem + afab!reader, anal play, fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, spitting, mentions of cunnilingus

author's note: my first forray into soap, for the anon who asked for soap helping reader get revenge...like a million years ago.

“No, no, into the camera, I don’t want the poor fuck to miss your face when you come. Fucker’s probably never seen it. Not for real anyway.” Soap squeezes at the back of your neck, just firm enough to get you to lift your face out of your pillows. Enough to get you to stare into your phone’s camera. Your eyes make a fevered, strained connection with the tiny lens and a thrill runs through you, up your spine and out of your mouth in the form of Soap’s name.

“Yes.” He hisses digging his fingertips into the flesh at your hips, tugging you back onto his length.

Were you your ex, in about an hour or so, you’d get a video attachment with the sparkling heart emoji you loved to use in place of a caption. Were you your ex, you’d open the video, rolling your eyes and anticipating six minutes of you crying and whimpering apologies. Instead, you’d get an eyeful of your glassy expression, your clammy face, your open mouth, mumbling incoherently while Soap’s hips smacked hard against your back side.

You’d have seen the opening moments of the video you're currently shooting where Soap had zoomed in on the puffy lips of your cunt, documenting the way his dick slid over your labia over and over until you moaned deep in your throat off screen. You would’ve heard your own empty headed pleading with Johnny to “stop teasing already” before he sunk into you proper, pushing into your pussy, letting the camera catch him stretching you open, making you take every inch while you drooled obscenities.

Thankfully though, you aren’t your ex, so you get to experience every second of Soap painstakingly taking you apart live and in-fucking-colour.

It hadn’t been intentional. Soap is your friend, your best friend. Either of you would proudly take a bullet for the other. You’ve spent years in each other’s company, raiding each other’s fridges, crying on each other’s shoulders, laughing at one another’s dumbass jokes. You fit together like puzzle pieces.

Totally. Platonic. Puzzle Pieces.

What makes the whole “having sex with your best friend and recording it” thing worse (or better, if you asked Johnny), is that your ex had always doubted the innocence of yours and MacTavish’s relationship, always muttering bitterly in the presence of your friendship. He’d argued over and over that Soap was “into you” and you just “didn’t want to see it”. And maybe you hadn’t. Maybe it made things easier to not address the casual intimacy of your actions, the long hugs, the near mouth kisses, the cuddling. You didn’t even want to consider the much too frequent occasions where you’d catch him staring at your mouth, or when you’d catch yourself leering at his arms, or the sex dreams. The goddamn sex dreams. Night after accursed night of Dream You and Dream Soap going at it like animals. Fucking like it’s what you were born to do.

Fucking the way you are right now.

He clasps a hand around your nape again, squeezing before he runs his palm down your sweat slick back. Soap presses deft fingers against your sides, gripping hard and punching forward again, rocking your entire body towards the camera. He’s going painfully slow, and the heavy glide of his cock inside you is mind-numbing. There’s no way the face you’re making to the camera lens is attractive, but later, when you're cuddled against him in your bed, rewatching the video, Soap will insist it’s perfect.

Right now though, who gives a fuck what you look like, when you can feel Johnny rearranging your insides with his dick.

He groans, spreading your ass to get a better look at his cock disappearing into you. “Fuck me.” He draws it out, voice drunk and deep with pleasure. You look over your shoulder at him, whispering something so low it doesn’t get picked up on camera.

And Soap couldn’t have that, could he?

“Tell him.” Your hips stutter, slowing the rhythm the two of you have built, your mind is already clouded with lust, thoughts obscured by the sensation of Johnny fucking you like he hates you.

Or loves you.

You really could not give less of shit about the difference tonight,

“Tell him, sweet.” He jerks his chin at your phone, propped up against a pillow and recording every second of your debasement in the highest definition the three year old device can manage.

Shivers wrack your body but you concede, facing the camera. “I asked him to spit on me.”

“Where did you ask for it? Don’t be shy.” He goads, picking up your slack, jolting you back and forth with deep thrusts, bottoming out then withdrawing until only the flushed scarlet tip of his cock is inside you, only for him to fuck back into you, grinding against your abused walls.

“My ass.” You moan, teeth bared as you try to breathe through your impending orgasm. “I asked him to spit on my ass.” You pant the answer, ”Cause you never wanted to.”

Soap’s laugh is boisterous, vindictive and loud, and he obliges you, finally, spitting at the furl of your asshole. The sensation makes you shiver, and you clench down on him, nearly wailing when your best friend’s thumb begins rubbing insistently at the rim of your hole, spreading his spit with purpose.

“Think I can get my thumb in there?” He huffs, and bends over, his chest blanketing your back so his face is in the camera too. Soap drags the very tip of her tongue over the shell of your ear, biting down softly on your earlobe, sucking at the skin beneath it before he addresses the lens this time, “Whaddya say, Leo? Think I can get my thumb in ‘er?” He rubs his forehead against the nape of your neck before levering back up, out of frame. “I think I can.” He murmurs happily, pressing the pad of the digit against your hole, quietly urging you to push against him, to breathe easy, until you part around the finger. Your whole body just melts as you get used to it, being full. Johnny begins moving again, stroking you deep then grinding inside you, rubbing his hands over your sides, squeezing, groping, touching like he can’t believe you’re here. Like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.

He wiggles his thumb, pulling it to the side so he can stare at how he’s filled you completely. You can practically hear him ruminating on how he was going to convince you to let him fuck you there, stretch your ass open and spill his seed where no one had before. Lay an irrefutable claim.

Or maybe that was just you.

Honestly, it really didn’t matter because the pace at which Soap is pistoning into you, making your cunt weep, made every little thought that managed to grow in your mind die almost instantaneously.

"Mm...Johnny, I'm close" you grab at the hand he has anchored to your waist. The hair on his thighs rubs against you, the friction and the feel of his balls slapping against your clit speeding you towards an orgasm for the fucking record books. And contrary to Soap's posturing, you didn't fake orgasms, who the fuck had time for that? However, the ones Leo occasionally gave you were nothing like what you felt coming. You struggled not to bite your tongue clean off as ecstasy shot through you, your breath stalling in your lungs. You flee forward when Soap presses his thumb into your ass as far as it could go, pulling his unoccupied hand out of yours so he could rub tight circles over the hood of your clit. It's too much, gratification and sensation and reckless fucking pleasure.

Look at you, running from dick. Who'da thunk it?

"Oh that's not happening." Johnny rasps, breaking his own rhythm once, then twice, abandoning your clit to pull you back onto him. "Take it. Let him see how you take it." Another, smaller, climax tears through your last bit of restraint, all caught on digital film, and you drop your head and scream, muffled by pillows while Soap gives in and comes inside you, throwing his head back, groaning at your ceiling, or God, maybe.

Either's as likely.

When he pulls out, there's a fleeting moment of silence interrupted only by the sound of synchronized heavy breathing.

Soap bends forward again, this time grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up and against his chest, knocking your legs apart with his hand so the camera can focus on his cum leaking out of you, dripping thick and slow for the benefit of your future audience. He turns your face by your chin, pressing his mouth to yours, further flooding your senses. When his tongue traces over yours, you can literally feel you and Johnny pass the point of no return.

“Turn it off.” Soap nods to the phone again, and you have to shake your head twice and kiss him three times before you feel cognizant enough to understand what he’s asking. You can’t stop yourself from smiling facetiously into the tiny lens before you end the recording.

“Give it here.”

You pass him the phone, staring at the lock screen, a half decade old photo of you and Soap in a matching halloween costume, Johnny dressed like an angel and you his complicit devil, your arms wrapped around each other.

Leo had hated it.

“Aaaaand send.” Soap sing-songs, tapping at the screen of your phone a few times before he chucks the device to the floor, ignoring your indignant yelp of protest. “How long do you think we have before he opens it?”

“Long enough for you to eat me out?” You flop back on your bed, propped up on your bent elbows.

“Then we’d best get started.”

Soap barely gets the chance to touch his tongue to your clit when your phone starts to buzz furiously.

god i hope this anon sees this, i started working on it the day they requested it but totally forgot it was FOR someone and got stuck in my perfectionist k-hole.

support city girls with spit kinks, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

#kechiwrites #kinktober 2023 #cod imagine #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #john mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod x reader #soap x you #soap x black reader #cod smut #cod fanfic #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you

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reiderwriter · 8 months

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The Us That Could Have Been

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader

Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!

W/C: 5.7k

Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.

Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.

A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet.

Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down.

“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body.

“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once.

“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-”

“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you.

“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long.

“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words.

“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?”

“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-”

“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.”

–X–

A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right.

Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.

The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step.

If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care.

The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one.

It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed.

Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion.

You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you.

“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day.

“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his.

You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out.

Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home.

“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now.

The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust.

The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys.

“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk.

“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance.

“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock.

“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”

“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.”

“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.

“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?”

“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away.

He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember.

–X–

“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead.

“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time.

Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day.

“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them.

Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions.

“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?”

“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it.

He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway.

When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.”

JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women.

“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it.

“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…”

“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue.

“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession.

“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed.

“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.”

They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued.

“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”

“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?”

“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”

JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them.

“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around.

“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.”

The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you.

“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued.

“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.

“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her.

“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out.

“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in.

“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word.

“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.

“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-”

“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.

“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”

“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?”

“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve.

“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added.

“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly.

“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?”

They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them.

“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.

“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.”

“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.

“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.

“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.”

“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things.

“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.

He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.

You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess.

“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.

“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen.

“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.

“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly.

“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came.

You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left.

“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.

“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.”

–X–

The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?

Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning.

“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”

Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.

“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.

“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?”

He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.”

“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.

“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.”

He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly.

“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said.

“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time.

–X–

You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him.

You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions.

“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider.

It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.

You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies.

He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed.

“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin.

“I love you, please don’t cry.”

“I love you, you’re so beautiful.”

“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again.

“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him.

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body.

He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.

“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again.

“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another.

Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time.

“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again.

He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes.

“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied.

“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively.

“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly,

“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question.

“Why did you run away the other day?”

“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”

“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far.

“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself.

“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.”

“Y/N, please.”

“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.”

The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away.

He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #maeve donovan #maturereiding

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shellshocklove · 28 days

Text

dirty work | joel miller

(gif by me)

pairing/AU: daddy!joel miller x female!reader - no outbreak

summary: joel's work has been a bitch the last few weeks and he's tired, but it's nothing you can't fix.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! swearing, use of pet names, smut with a dash of fluff, lap sitting, daddy!dom!joel, praise with a dash of degradation, handjob, cockwarming, use of sex toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, creampie, no use of y/n

a/n: this is just a short smut idea i wanted to write. minimal editing done here btw so if you see any mistakes, no you didn't 🥰

masterlist / ao3

At the sound of a key turning, you lifted your head from the couch pillow.

Tapping at your phone resting on your chest, you noticed it was an hour later than he’d promised – not that you were surprised. Joel hadn’t been home earlier than nine o’clock for weeks as his new client had turned out to be on another level of demanding and indecisive. Every morning he’d woken up before six and left you with a kiss to your forehead long before your own alarm would ring.

Finally home, his heavy work boots scraped against the tiles in the hallway, before you heard the thud of his tool bag hitting the floor followed by a tired sigh. Pushing yourself to rest on your elbow you peeked over the armrest of the couch.

“Did the wife change her mind again?” you asked in a raised voice, lowering the volume on the reality show you’d been half-watching since dinner.

With heavy footsteps he padded into your living room and an ache settled in your chest as you took him in. His hair was ruffled and messy, and his eyes drooped at the corners. With a groan Joel dropped down next to you on the couch. Shifting your weight to sit up properly, you moved your blanket a little out of the way to move closer to your tired man. He didn’t answer right away, his palms coming up to rub at his eyes as an exasperated sigh escaped his lips.

“That goddamn woman had her sister visitin’ this weekend ‘nd now she wanna change everythin’, again.” He breathed out another heavy sigh, before his palms came down on his thighs with a dull smack!

“Are you serious?” you shook your head and shifted even closer, your knees brushing against his denim clad thigh.

“’m afraid so, baby,” he said and let his head fall against the back of the couch, his eyes trailing a pattern in the ceiling.

Shifting on your knees you sunk into his side, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulder, while you snaked your hand across his broad chest to pull him closer in a hug. Almost like a reflex Joel lifted his arm to wrap around you.

“Can’t you let Tommy take the lead on this project? This much work isn’t healthy, Joel,” you spoke into his t-shirt, breathing in that familiar smell of him – the smell of faded cologne, sawdust and sweat.

“If I wanna get fired, maybe. Tommy already offended that woman weeks ago sayin’ some shit about how indecisive she was– not that he was wrong but…” he trailed off, instead he hooked his arm under your knees to pull your legs over his lap. Tilting your head slightly you watched his eyes, how they fixated on his hand now resting over the thick of your thigh, his finger brushing small circles over the fabric of your lounge wear as thoughts swiveled in his head.

“Anyway, it’ll be done in a few weeks– I just gotta push through and it’s good money,” he concluded after a beat, his hand flexing before coming down on your thigh in a small pat.

You hummed, squeezing him closer to your body. “I just wish you didn’t need to work so hard– I’ve missed you.”

You felt the softest touch of a kiss to the top of your head at your confession, and it made a smile wash over your features. “I’ve missed you too, baby.” Joel said, his voice muffled through more presses of small light kisses.

His hand resting over your thigh traveled up your body, like he was trying to remember what you felt like again. A calloused finger landed under your chin, the pad rough from a lifetime of hard work, to tilt your head upwards. A smile tugged at your lips, and you knew what he wanted. Locking eyes with him, the world seemed to bleed at the corners, before it all seemed to focus on nothing but him when he dipped down to brush his lips over yours. You keened into him, keened into his touch, keened into the way his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow in just the right way.

“Missed you real bad.”

The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through your body, igniting a want that had laid dormant all these weeks. A content breathy sigh escaped your lips when he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing over the seam of your lips to lick into your mouth. Grasping for something to tether yourself to, your hand found the thick muscle of his bicep.

When you’d both stolen each other’s breaths for too long, Joel started pressing kisses down your jaw to the column of your neck – nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it over with his tongue.

“Want ya so bad, baby– missed that tight pussy around my cock.”

You whined at his confession, your body involuntarily squirming as the deep bass in his voice whispering in your ear, sent shivers down your spine.

“Missed you too,” you managed to breathe out, “Missed you too, Daddy.”

A deep groan rumbled in Joel’s chest when that word fell from your lips, and soon he’d hooked a hand under your leg to hoist you into his lap. A giggly squeal fell from your lips at his manhandling, but you couldn’t deny how much it turned you on – to let him have his way with you, to let him take what he wanted, what he needed.

Less than a second later, his mouth was on you again, his lips pressed hard against your own as both his hands fell to rest over your ass. Under you, you felt the familiar shape of his cock harden, and you couldn’t help but buck your hips, feeling a surge of arousal pool in your tummy.

“There you go, sweetheart, good girl,” he mumbled between kisses, urging you on “grind on Daddy’s cock, baby, that’s it– just like that.”

Wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself, you broke away from his lips. The building pleasure felt so good already, and you had to duck your face into his neck to hide the small whines from falling from your lips. A heavy hand came down on your back, to hold you closer as he soothed over your skin.

It all felt so good, Joel felt so good, so safe. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed perfect over your clit, and you could feel the pressure of an orgasm coiling in on itself in your core.

Chasing that high, your movements got slightly needier, not as practiced and steady, and Joel sensed the shift in you. “Good girl, baby– you’re such a good girl for Daddy,” he praised, the words tickling your ear. He knew just what to say to make you wet, and needy for him. The gusset of your panties now soiled in your dripping arousal.

“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered, but you didn’t know what for. For him to allow you to cum? For him to have his way with you? For him to fuck you? All of the above?

“Please, what, honey? What’d you need?” Joel coaxed; his voice laced with condescending pity.

“Please, I need to feel you– feel your cock inside,” you whined into his neck, any modesty inside you had melted away as soon as he’d pulled you into his lap.

“Yeah?” he murmured gently, and you could only nod – your brain too empty to focus on anything other than Joel. “But Daddy’s tired, baby, he’s had a long day.”

The whine escaping you made Joel laugh, the deep rumbling of his laugh vibrated against your chest. He was playing with you, you knew that, but it had been so long since you’d been fucked by him – over a week – and desperate didn’t even begin to cover how you felt right now.

“I’ll tell ya what, pretty girl, Daddy’s got an idea,” he told you, with a gentle smack! to your ass. You sat up a little and shifted yourself down his thighs slightly, before your eyes, laced with curiosity, found his dark ones. “Why don’t you go get the wand from our bedroom, and Daddy’ll take care of ya, huh?” he posed; his large hand cupping your cheek.

“O-okay,” you nodded, a little confused about his plans. Didn’t he just say he wanted you?

There was no need in questioning him. You already knew whatever idea he had in store for you tonight, he’d make you feel good. So, like the good girl you wanted to be, you did as you were told.

When you got back to the living room Joel were still sat in the same spot on the couch, but in your absence he’d undone his jeans. With one arm slung over the back of the sofa, his legs spread wide, he watched you as he wrapped a large hand around himself to stroke at his impressive cock in lazy strokes.

“Come sit in my lap, baby,” he gestured with his other hand.

Just as you were about to straddle him again, he stopped you with a hand on your hip; his finger hooking roughly into your sweatpants.

“Off,” he ordered and took the wand from your hand.

Again, like a good girl, you did as you were told.

Turning around a small giggle fell from your lips when you decided to put on a little show for him. Slowly, and teasingly, you hooked your fingers into the elastic of your sweatpants, pulling them down slowly to reveal your underwear while you wiggled your ass sightly back and forth. A knuckle brushed over the curve of you; making you jump from the sudden touch before a smile blossomed across your face.

“Pretty, baby,” you heard him murmur, “such a pretty girl.”

Then his finger hooked into the elastic of your panties to pull them down to expose your wet and needy cunt for him. Biting down on your bottom lip, you fought to hide the moan threatening to escape when you felt the wide pad of his thumb run from your hole down through your slick folds, spreading you apart for him.

“Lookit this pretty pussy– it wants some attention, doesn’t it? It’s drippin’ for me and I ain’t even touched it yet– poor thing.” Joel said it softly, but there was still with a hint of condescension in his voice, “Been so long since Daddy’s taken care of you, hasn’t it?”

You grinded your ass into his hand, “Yes, please touch me, Daddy.” Looking at him over your shoulder, you put on your best puppy-eyes and exaggerated pout. Maybe it was over the top and silly, but it pulled a breathy laugh from Joel.

“Alright, pretty girl,” he conceded, and wrapped a large hand around your waist to turn you around.

“Come here… Spread those pretty legs apart f’me.”

He pulled you down in his lap, your legs spreading wide across his thick thighs and putting your dripping core on full display for him. Small currents of electricity cursed through you as your whole body buzzed with anticipation of what would come next. Of what Joel’s idea was. Flitting your eyes nervously to the wand he’d tossed aside beside him, your head spun, conjuring up all kinds of dirty scenarios.

When Joel was pleased with how you were seated in his lap, his right hand came up to cup your chin and angle your face towards him. His dark eyes shone with lust, but it was clouded over like a veil; you knew him well enough at this point to recognize the affection behind it. Like a reflex it made the corner of your lips pull up into a smile, a smile straining against his loose grip on your chin.

“What you smilin’ about, huh?” he questioned, head tipping in a curious tilt.

“Nothing,” you smiled.

“Nothin’, huh? Don’t look like nothin’ to me,” he shook your head playfully with no real force; just moving your head in his hand.

“Just love you is all,” you shrugged. It was the truth after all.

Your confession pulled a smile over Joel’s face; the dark black in his eyes giving way for a lighter loving brown for just a second.

“I love you too, baby,” he said and leaned forward to place a quick peck to your lips.

He pulled away too quickly for your liking and you whined, chasing after his lips, but Joel only chuckled at you, keeping your chin cupped in his hand. Leaning closer to your face again, you thought he’d grant you another kiss, your pathetic whining having won him over. Instead, he bumped his nose against yours and whispered against your lips, “Touch my cock, baby.”

A breath hitched in your throat, the low rumble of his voice searing through your body and making your blood run hot with arousal. It clouded your mind, and you almost had to take a second to understand what he’d just told you. Joel turned you on so bad, the bubbling warmth of arousal in your core now having turned into an almost painful ache. You didn’t want him anymore, you needed him.

When your brain finally caught up, your hands moved by their own accord, wrapping one around his aching cock, while the other steadied yourself on his shoulder. His cock was so big, always so big. The first time he’d had you on your back, you’d wondered how it was even gonna fit inside you, but now, now your cunt ached to be filled by him just at the sight of him in your hand.

Joel fell back against the couch cushions, the hand on your chin travelling down your body to rest over the thick of your thighs. “That’s right, baby, you take that cock in your hand, that’s a good girl,” he praised, while his fingers traced encouraging shaped into your bare skin, “Spit on Daddy’s cock– get it nice and wet.”

Leaning forward slightly you let a blob of spit spill from your lips and drip down to coat his thick head. Your eyes were laser focused on your task at hand, wanting nothing more than for Joel to feel good after such a stressful few days. Skating your thumb over the head, you mixed your spit with the precum that had started to pearl at his tip. It dripped down over your hand, and you tightened your grip slightly before you started moving your hand.

Up and down.

Mesmerized at the movement of your hand and the wet squelch filling the air between you as you jerked your hand in a steady rhythm, you did your best to make him feel good.

“Just like that– that’s a good girl,” Joel praised in between strained grunts.

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep a wide grin to blossoming across your face as every small grunt and praising encouragement circled around your heart in a dizzying warmth. You touched him how you knew he liked it, setting a steady pace but also making sure to grip him a little tighter at the base, and massage the tip between strokes. You were detriment to make him come. He deserved it, you quietly decided to yourself.

Joel must’ve not agreed with you, because suddenly he was pulling your hand away, “That’s enough for now.”

The pout was on your lips before you knew it, and as soon as Joel noticed he raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“No pouting, or Daddy’ll have to punish you,” he reprimanded, his hand on your thigh gliding over your skin to cup your ass in a tight grip. You jumped at the sudden touch, before you grinded your ass into his hand. It made Joel shake his head.

“Stand,” he ordered suddenly with a tap to your ass cheek, “and turn ‘around f’me.”

You let him maneuver you however he wanted, and soon you were sitting – half-way laying – with your back resting against his chest while he rocked his hard cock between the seam of your ass.

“Listen up,” he spoke into your ear, and you had to contain yourself to not squirm in his lap. “You’re gonna sit nice and pretty on Daddy’s cock and let Daddy have a little fun with this toy of yours– ain’t that sound good?” he cooed.

You couldn’t do anything other than nod, your head twisting into his neck. You felt like you were starting to burn up from the inside from the arousal that had continuing to build and build and build.

“Nuh-uh, need your words, pretty girl,” he said with a tap to your waist.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “please, Daddy! I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

You knew those words were the ones he wanted to hear. It was why the sex with Joel was as great as it was. You understood quickly that the control he wanted, the control he took, in the bedroom gave him a break from a stressful and unpredictable world. He craved it just as much as you craved for him to take it. You trusted him like no other human you knew; he knew you better than yourself, knew where your limits were, and how to push them just right.

After you sigh of consent, everything after was a blur of pleasure. He helped you lower yourself inch by inch down on his cock. The stretch of him always overwhelming, as the thick girth of him split you open in a delicious burn.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised in your ear, the words like sweet honey. “Feels good doesn’t it, baby?”

With him fully seated inside you, you could finally breathe. Nodding in a sigh of delirious pleasure, you reveled in the bliss of being so close to him, to feel the strong grip of his arm around you, and his large cock inside. In Joel’s arms, your thoughts and stress of the dying day, wilted away.

After a beat, you pulled yourself together and shifted in Joel’s lap; ready to start moving on his cock. His grip around your torso tightened at your movement, his breath tickling the back for your ear.

“What did I tell you, baby? Told you to sit nice and pretty on Daddy’s cock, didn’t I?” he reprimanded.

You didn’t have time to tell him you were sorry – you thought he wanted you to make him come – before he’d pressed the head of the wand hard against your neglected clit. You jumped in his arms from the sudden stimulation, your cunt clamping around his cock as a small squeal escaped you from surprise.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “you can take it baby.”

You couldn’t, actually.

Not a second later, the intensity of the vibration had you coming on his cock. All the pent-up teasing, breaking like a dam of an orgasm, washing over you.

“There you go– squeeze your cunt on Daddy’s cock, let me feel you come all over it like a good slut.” You almost didn’t hear Joel over the overwhelming ecstasy of your first orgasm of the night.

Turning down the vibrations slightly Joel let you come down to earth again, but he never pulled the wand from your cunt. He made sure to hold it steady, easing up on the pressure with slow circles, before he pushed it a little firmer against your clit again.

“This is Daddy’s pussy, isn’t it?” he spoke into your ear, voice low and husky.

“Yes,” you whispered with a rock of your hips, “all yours, Daddy.”

Taking the hint, he turned up the vibrations again. It was intense, all your effort concentrated on the feel of Joel’s cock filling you up so perfectly while he quickly brought you closer to the edge of another orgasm. You couldn’t do anything other than take it – take what he was giving you, take the filth he was spilling into your ear.

“Y’hear how wet you are, baby? Your pussy soakin’ Daddy’s cock?” he emphasized with a shallow trust of his cock inside you – the first movement of his cock since you’d sat down on him.

“Such a naughty little slut.”

“Is that too much f’you, sweetheart?”

With no warning you were coming again, your body trembling in his lap as Joel hushed your whiny moans and breathy mewls.

“Oh, my pretty girl’s comin’ again? Already? Don’t take much does it?” he chuckled.

A heat of embarrassment coated your cheeks at his degrading words, the realization of his words catching up with you as you came down. With a bite to your bottom lip, you leaned back into his neck. To hide? You didn’t know, but Joel wouldn’t have it either way. Sitting up a little a hand wrapped around your chin in a steady grip, angling your head to look between your spread legs.

“Nuh-uh, you watch what Daddy’s doing to his pussy.” He emphasized his words with a hard press of the wand to your clit, making you moan loudly. Your pussy looked a mess. Slick wet arousal had gathered in the thatch or hair at the top of your mound, the head of the wand glistening with you as Joel moved it expertly over your poor puffy clit.

“You’re gonna give Daddy another one, we clear?”

“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out. The intensity of the vibrations combined with your ever-increasing sensitivity now almost too much to handle.

“Repeat it,” he ordered, circling the wand perfectly over your clint.

A strangled moan escaped your throat before you could let a single word out. “I’m gonna come again for you, Daddy.”

“Yes, pretty girl, that’s right,” he confirmed with a rock of his hips. The tip of his cock nudged perfectly against your spot inside, and with the way he circled the wand, you were already tethering on the edge.

“But you come only when Daddy says. Wanna feel that that perfect pussy come as I fill you up with my cum– because that’s what you need isn’t it? Daddy’s cum inside?”

“Yes,” you moaned in a hitching breath.

He was so mean for making you talk when you were this close to tipping over again for him. Gathering all your self-control you held on for dear life to not come before Joel had given you permission. You gripped a hand around his elbow, your hand moving with his as you felt the vibrations from the wand travel through you. You were squirming now, and you were sure that if you didn’t come in the next few seconds you’d die.

In your ear Joel’s heavy breaths got more labored. “Y’want Daddy to fill up this messy pussy with his cum?”, he panted in your ear, his hips rocking into yours, “Then you have to be a good little slut and come again f’me.”

As the last syllable left his lips, everything melted together in a mixture of Joel. Squirming in his lap, you clenched hard around his cock as you came. The slick of your numerous orgasms dripped from your hole split opened by his cock, and down the heavy sack of his balls.

“That’s it,” he praised, “That’s a good girl– take all that cum inside.” His cock twitched as he emptied himself inside your cunt, painting your walls and finally filling you up with his cum like he’d promised. You had no choice but to take it – not that you’d wanted it anywhere else.

When your breath started to come back to normal, and your heartbeat slowed, you managed to tap tiredly at Joel’s hand. He was still pressing the wand to your clit making you squirm away from the vibrations – this time it was too much.

“Joel,” you warned in a high-pitched voice.

Joel loved to push your limits, but he was never cruel about it. With an endearing chuckle, he turned the wand off and tossed it aside on the couch cushion before he wrapped both his hands around you.

“I think I could’ve pushed another from ya,” he teased with a playful bite to your ear.

Inside you, you could feel his cock softening as his heavy release started to drip out down the length of him.

With a breathy laugh you leaned deeper into his chest,

“You can always push another from me.”

i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fluff #*writing #pedro pascal

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Three for One 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.

You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.

You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.

While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.

You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.

"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.

He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.

"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"

"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.

"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."

"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"

"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.

You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.

"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."

"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.

"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"

He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.

You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.

You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.

You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.

"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.

"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.

He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.

"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."

You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.

What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.

Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.

You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.

You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.

“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”

“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”

You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.

“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”

“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”

He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”

His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.

“How old is she?” You ask.

“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”

“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”

You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.

“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”

You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.

“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”

“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”

“Is it faster?”

“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”

You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.

“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”

“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”

You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”

“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”

“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”

He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”

You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.

“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”

“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”

“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”

Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.

“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.

“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”

Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”

“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”

“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.

“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.

“Next week,” the first man growls.

“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”

Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.

“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.

“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.

“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”

“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”

“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”

“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”

“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”

“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.

“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”

“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”

“Two weeks?” He puffs.

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”

“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.

“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”

“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.

“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”

“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”

“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!

“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”

He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.

“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”

“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”

You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.

“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”

He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.

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thisapplepielife · 2 months

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Spring challenge.

Sprung

Prompt: Spring | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Struggling to Make Ends Meet, Light Angst, Sacrifice, Love, Making a Life Together

"Steve, please," Eddie says, and Steve stills.

"I thought you were asleep?" Steve whispers in the dark, and Eddie's not sure why Steve's trying to be quiet at this point. They're both awake now. Steve's made sure of that.

"I was," Eddie huffs out, annoyed, because he had been. But Steve's constant flopping around has ruined that. Steve's become the world's shittest sleeper lately, and that's not exactly ideal in a bed partner.

"Sorry," Steve says, stilling, "I'll try to stop moving around."

Eddie just mutters something that he hopes passes as a thanks, and rolls back over. He has to get up at six, and he fucking needs his four hours. That's not too much to ask for, goddamnit.

Steve's still for a few minutes, but then rolls over in his sleep, again, and the whole bed shifts and shakes. Again. Eddie's had enough, and snags his pillow off the bed, padding down the hallway to crash on the couch. He's exhausted. He can't do this tonight. He can't.

He still wakes up tired, because it was too cold in the living room. Their shitty radiators either don't work, or boil you. No middle ground. Fucking shithole. But it's the best they can do for now, since they're barely keeping their heads above water, as is. Working just to live. It's been hard. Harder than Eddie expected, and he grew up with fucking hard.

He'd hoped they'd be past that now, hoped he'd finally catch a goddamn break.

Of course not.

It's the Munson curse.

And now Eddie's in a bad mood, even as Steve's pouring coffee into Wayne's old thermos for him, packing Eddie's metal lunchbox, to keep him going on the jobsite all day.

"Thanks," Eddie says, taking it, and Steve just nods silently, clearly aware Eddie's in a mood this morning.

Eddie worries they're circling the drain, from circumstances alone. It's not a love problem, it's a life problem, and that makes it worse.

And before long, Eddie realizes he broke the seal, having introduced a new wedge between them. Now that the couch is in play, they aren't even sleeping in the same bed most nights anymore. Steve will go, or he will, and now they're sleeping apart more nights a week than they sleep together. Maybe they're getting more rest, but they're also growing even further apart.

Today, Eddie's coffee and lunch are on the counter, but Steve's already in the shower, and their ten minutes together in the morning are gone.

Just like that.

Eddie grabs his work boots from the closet, flopping down on Steve's side of the bed to put them on, and he's suddenly assaulted, poked right in the ass by whatever Steve's left laying on the mattress.

Standing up, he's sliding his hand over the bed in the dark to see what the fuck he sat on. Nothing. He yanks the sheets back, and there's still nothing, so he strips it further.

It's a spring.

And it's threatening to fully poke through, probably right where Steve's back rests. Goddammit. No wonder Steve can't fucking hold still at night. He's being tortured, Eddie thinks, as he presses his hand against the spring, feeling it bite into his hand.

A rogue mattress spring.

That's what's divided them, broke them down.

Eddie sits back down, lets the spring dig into his ass, and holds his head in hands. He's not gonna cry. He doesn't have time. He has to go to work. But goddamn this.

He's still sitting there when Steve comes in and is rifling through the closet, "You okay?"

"No," Eddie says.

Steve walks over and puts the back of his hand on Eddie's forehead and Eddie laughs, wetly.

"You don't feel hot," Steve declares.

"No, I don't," Eddie mutters, because damn, he fucking doesn't feel hot at all. He feels broken down and worn out.

He reaches up and catches Steve's hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing it.

"I'm sorry about the mattress. I didn't know," Eddie says, looking up at him.

"It's okay, I'm used to it," Steve says, and he rubs his fingers against the top of Eddie's head.

"You shouldn't have to be," Eddie says, dejected.

Steve Harrington chose him, loves him, and Eddie can't even give him a bed to sleep on that isn't trying to pierce his spleen every night.

They can't afford a new one, not right now, and Eddie hates that he can't fix this.

"We'll flip it," Eddie offers.

"Then it'll have the crater on your side again," Steve says with a laugh. And yeah, Eddie'd forgotten they flipped it last year, after his side started breaking down. Sucking him inward, like a gate into the Upside Down.

That doesn't matter.

"Well, that's gotta be better than this," Eddie admits, bouncing a little. Anything would be better than this torture device.

Steve kneels between Eddie's open thighs, "It's okay, Eddie."

It's not.

"I'm sorry I was being a jerk. I didn't know," Eddie says.

"I know you didn't," Steve answers, "I didn't want you to worry."

Eddie brushes Steve's hair off his forehead, "I'm still sorry. I love you. You know that, right?"

Steve grins, and it's blinding, "Always. Work now, worry about the mattress later."

Eddie nods, smiles, and when Steve moves from between his knees, Eddie leans over and laces up his boots. Ready to start another day.

That evening, when Eddie pulls into the driveway, Wayne's truck is parked behind Steve's car. Eddie hadn't realized Wayne was coming, and grins. This day just got way better.

Eddie plows into the house, and finds Steve in the bedroom, a pair of needle nose pliers dug into a small hole they've cut in the mattress, trying to bend the spring back into its original position. Wayne's standing there, talking Steve through the temporary fix, until they can afford something better.

It's gonna be okay, Eddie realizes. They're just a little bent out of shape right now. A little sprung.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #spring #steddie #steddie ficlet #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #future fic #good uncle wayne munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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passivenovember · 10 days

Text

thinking real hard about Billy and Steve finding each other years after they've settled into themselves.

Billy's gone to therapy and he lives in a little house on the shoreline. Steve makes it to California. Doesn't have the six nuggets, yet. He's working insane hours at a job that isn't very lucrative, but he never had to sell his soul to his old man--

So. Point is. They're happy. Content, almost.

And then they find each other.

Steve's burning a pot of water when the phone rings.

It's like a knife through the air. A thorn in his side, pain and annoyance ramping up to an 11 as he yanks the receiver from the wall. "Yeah, now's not a great time," He says, because the goddamn smoke alarm's gonna start wailing any second now, and Steve's neighbor is real trigger-happy when it comes to alerting the fire department. "Look, I'll call you--"

"--Why answer the phone?"

Steve would know Billy's voice anywhere, the rough and tumble drag of someone who used to live fast and hard but doesn't, anymore. "I," Steve says, "I don't--"

"--It's like. Why answer the phone if it's not a good time to talk?"

"I don't like being impolite."

Billy hums, smoke and lightning on the end of the line. "So, you weren't waiting for me to call?"

"No," Steve says. But he was. Has been since high school and all the weird, boring, disheartening years that followed until Billy appeared at the dive bar on Saturday. Like a vision. An angel.

"Damn. And here I was, taking a full 72 hours to figure out what I should say," Billy tells him.

Steve can hear a smile.

Aches to taste it, but-- "That's kinda lame, Hargrove."

"So what?"

"So. You're kinda lame, I guess."

Billy laughs at him, then, high and bright. It shoots confetti into Steve's kitchen, the curling tendrils nearly catching on fire as Steve comes back to himself. He pulls the pan of water and dumps it into the sink, killing the flame on the stove.

"Yeah, I'm a disaster. Maxine tells me all the time," Billy says, "It's just. How weird, y'know?"

"What? You?"

"No, you," Billy tells him, chuckling again. "Fell outta the sky, or something. Into a shitty dive bar."

"So did you--"

"--Fell outta my dreams."

"So did you," Steve says, and his stomach twists. Tumbles. Washing-machine guts still soiled with the bloody red spots of a decade-long crush.

"Huh. You're kinda forward, Harrington."

Steve shrugs, face burning. "Long as I'm not as lame as you are."

"Dude, I didn't say you weren't lame."

"Sure, you didn't."

Billy's next laugh Steve feels in his gut, heat pooling behind the thatch of curly down at his pelvis. "Still such a bitch, pretty boy."

"I'm just being honest. We aren't getting any younger, I'm not really interested in playing it cool, anymore."

Something rustles as Billy shifts his weight, "You were cool, once?"

"Ha-ha."

"I don't wanna play it cool, either," Billy tells him, as serious as a heart attack, "Look, can I be honest? You mind?"

Steve nods and then remembers Billy can't see him. "Go ahead."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Steve peers through the kitchen window, trying to imagine Billy somewhere on the edge of town with sunlight in his hair. Smoking in bed, naked gold until the duvet pulls him under hips first.

"Harrington, I need to see you again."

"Need is kind of dramatic."

"Maybe I'm feeling dramatic."

"Thought this was honesty hour, Hargrove?"

"It is. Honestly? I wanna kiss you," Billy tells him. "At midnight. In the pouring rain because I was too chicken-shit to do it after our first date."

Steve focuses on not swallowing his tongue. Damn near fails. "Was that a date?"

"No, it was bigger. It was the stars aligning, the start of--"

"--God, you are feeling dramatic."

"When can I see you?"

"I dunno," Steve says, fiddling with the lip of the sink, "When are we expecting rain?"

"Not sure."

Steve can hear his smile. Aches to sink into the softness. "I need a window to commit."

"Tonight. I'll make it rain."

Steve snorts, light as air. "You're crazy."

"I've had ten years to plan for this, Steve."

"Alright, lemme--" Steve pads over to the refrigerator, peering at his Kittens and Firefighters calendar. May is covered in birthdays, vacations, late nights at work, and roll-over plans from April, all hacked into the cardstock in striking red.

Steve groans and flips to June. "--Can you still make it rain in a month?"

"A month," Billy demands, "Fuck. You're hot shit but I didn't think--"

"--I have a full-time job. And friends who want to hang out when I'm not at work, but since I use all my energy at work I cancel on them, and things get moved around and--"

"--You can't make an exception for the guy who wants to eat you out?"

The pages of the calendar flutter, May settling heavy in the room. Steve swallows and his throat clicks. "Uh. My friends--"

"--Aren't gonna eat you out."

"They would. If I asked them to, at least one of them would."

"I'm not really loving that idea, pretty boy," Billy says, teasing. "What about over a lunch break?"

"You want to eat my ass over a lunch break?" Steve snorts, "I'm not a hooker."

"What's wrong with--"

"--I'm not," Steve says, "And even if I was, I'm not cheap. You couldn't afford the hour, and we'd need more than that, anyway."

"What about a sleep over?"

"A sleepover?" Steve says, turning from the refrigerator. "Like, where I come over to your house and stay until the morning?"

"Or I come over to yours, yeah."

"But--"

"Actually, let's do yours. Maxine's place is getting fumigated, so she and Lucas are staying in the guest house."

"You have a guest house?" Steve doesn't remember mention of that during their first date, but. He was distracted.

Billy laughs, "Bet I could afford your hour, pretty boy."

"I thought," Steve says, twirling the phone cord around his hand, "In high school, I remember you telling Becky Gordes that you don't do sleepovers."

"I'm gay."

"Okay, but what about Eddie Munson? The whole school thought you were fucking him, did he ever sleep--"

"--No, my dad would've killed both of us," Billy tells him, and. Something in his voice makes Steve's blood run cold. Makes him believe it.

So he shifts gears, "But. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Who said anything about a sleepover tonight," Billy says. Steve imagines the look on his face. Shit-eating grin bright and sharp and beautiful as always. "Unless you want me to come over tonight?"

"I never said that."

"I can work wherever I want. I don't have to go in at all, if I don't want to."

Steve pads over to his junk drawer, digging around for a red pen. "What does Saturday look like for you?" He bites the cap off, holding it like a straw in the curl of his tongue.

Billy laughs, "I thought you said you weren't free until next month?"

Steve chews on the cap for a moment, pen shaking over the cardstock surface of his calendar. He imagines Billy like he was that night. Different but exactly the same. Charming and soft in a way that only comes from the toil of regeneration. Years and years shedding skin.

He'd been funny and smart. Quick wittted.

Sweet. Like cotton fuckin' candy.

Steve remembers not wanting the date to end, not believing that the universe would give him Billy with no strings attached and laying awake that night, hoping Billy would call, and that they'd get their chance, and now--

"Shit. What the fuck am I doing?" Steve asks, but it comes out garbled and messy and wrong. Comes out sounding like, she whale the food ham ding dong.

Billy laughs at him, again, anyway. "What?"

Steve spits the pen cap onto the counter. "You really want to eat me out tonight?"

"Damn--"

"--Because. I was too fucking stupid to realize what was happening between us in high school. Or. What was happening to me when I saw you in high school, and this is important to me," Steve says in a rush. Fuck being subtle, right? "We're not getting any younger. And I haven't slept with anyone for a long time, much less someone who I've wanted for as long as I can remember, so if you're going to come over here and fuck me--"

"Or talk," Billy says gently. "We could talk more. Get to know each other."

Steve listens to the static on the other end of the line.

"I want to get to know you again, Steve," Billy says.

And Steve cracks. Like a bowl in the microwave, curdling under pressure and heat. "Alright, just. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"For what?"

"My address," Steve says, leaning against the sink, "I want to get to know you, too."

"Tonight," Billy asks, digging around for something.

"Tonight," Steve says. "What the hell."

"Great."

"You've got something to write with?"

"Yeah," Billy says, sounding like he's barely holding it together. "Yeah, just. Whenever you're ready."

That night, after, just as Steve falls asleep in Billy's arms--

It rains.

#harringrove #little fun thing to get me out of my writers block #and maybe sort of based on a real thing that happened to me recently #sort of #anyway!#bye!#billy hargrove #fluff #reconnecting

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marvelstoriesepic · 3 months

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Paranoia

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky comes home to an unlocked door - his mind convinces him something horrible happened to you

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, fluff

author‘s note: Y‘all this is my first fic. So excited to get this all started!!

Masterlist

It had long gone dark as Bucky made his way home to you. A mission in Vienna occupied him for the last couple of days and he couldn’t wait to hold you in his arms again, breathe you in, and smoother you with kisses. Communication outside of the headquarters was denied much to Bucky’s dismay so instead of your melancholy voice he only got to hear annoying and unhelpful remarks from Sam through his com, who was tasked to watch his six.

He weaved his bike through the mostly empty streets, definitely faster than he was supposed to but eager to see you.

Walking up the steps to your shared apartment he couldn’t resist the giddy feeling welling up inside his chest, warmth spreading throughout his body. You and Bucky moved in together one year and three months into your relationship. Although it was his place too - you reminded him several times - he let you decorate it the way you wanted it, only throwing in a remark here and there.

He just loved the feeling of being surrounded by you - by the things you chose to include in the life you had with him. The couch, where you would cuddle up together, bundled in a blanket, limbs interlinked, watching a show together. The curtains, you would drag across the window to shield Bucky and you from the world outside. The flower pots littering your small balcony where you showed him how to take care of the plants after he drowned the azaleas last spring. Even the shoe rack where your sandals and sneakers were lined up right next to his boots reminding him of the life you shared. That this was real. That he had you and you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

That giddy feeling though left his body in an instant, with no resemblance of it ever being there. His heart sank to his shoes, even further but his brain couldn’t follow. He was feeling hot all of a sudden but nothing like the warmth that took hold of his heart just moments earlier. His mind was going haywire, wild eyes staring at his hand, which unbeknownst to him started shaking already. His key was still in his hand, ready to turn in the deadbolt of the lock, but all it took was a small push to open the door.

He didn’t realize he may be overreacting. Didn’t consider you could have just forgotten to lock the door. No. Unwillingly, his thoughts were clouded with the worst his mind could conjure up. This was New York after all. And he was the goddamn Winter Soldier for crying out loud. He did his best to make amends, trying to demonstrate that he isn’t the person people know him as but there will always be a few seeing him as the man Hydra trained him to be. He still got funny looks while walking the street, someone crossing the street when he approached and he noticed the sympathetic smiles people throw your way because they couldn’t seem to wrap their mind around how someone as sweet, compassionate, and gleeful can be with someone as him. He had trouble understanding that too.

So while it could have been a small mistake on your part Bucky was reeling at the easy access to your apartment. He shouldered his way into your home scanning the room and calling your name, a waver in his voice.

Nothing looked out of place, no evidence of a break-in. The fluffy white blanket was folded over the armrest of the couch. Piles of books were neatly placed in the bookshelf you built up together. Well, Bucky did, while you read chapter after chapter of the current book you were reading aloud. It took him two hours to build that shelf but not because he had difficulties. He just was afraid you‘d stop reading to him when he finished. Everything looked as it was supposed to but the nagging feeling didn’t let up and he chased down the corridor.

“Doll? Come on baby, where are you?”

He stalked into your bedroom, hoping to see you wrapped up in a warm blanket and reading a book or taking a nap waiting for him but he was met with the empty sheets arranged neatly. Through his panicked thoughts, he couldn’t make out the quiet creak of the door to your laundry room further down the hall and rushed footsteps coming his way.

“Y/n!”

He was shouting at this point, sheer panic lacing his voice and turning on his heels to check the other rooms.

“Buck-”

Bodys colliding, a yelp, Buckys arms shot out to steady you. You found your balance again shooting a concerned albeit bewildered look up at him.

“Buck, what’s going on?”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out while enclosing his arms around you, tugging you against him. Relief flooded his body and he swayed you both a little still feeling wobbly on his legs and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment while taking a big breath, filled with your scents. His hands roamed your body searching for anything that could indicate discomfort or pain.

You let him hold you for a few moments, feeling his chest heave with deep breaths, and only lightened your hold on him when his heartbeat evened out again. Without letting go completely you lifted your head and tilted backwards to study him better.

“What happened Buck?”

Your whispered concern got Bucky out of his mind and he opened his eyes to look down at you, the hold on you never faltering. He looked a little sheepish now, shaking his head in a small movement, and took a shuddering breath.

“The door wasn’t locked,” it came out with a rasp and he cleared his throat, eyes shifting a little before they met yours.

You furrowed your brows and turned your head in the direction of the door. A couple of seconds later it hit you. You got some groceries earlier today and got distracted by the beeping of the washing machine when entering the apartment. You just shut the door, put the groceries down, and moved Bucky's clothes to the dryer. You wanted them to be clean and dry for when he came back. Walking back you went straight for the groceries to store them away without sparing another glance at the door.

“Shit Buck, I forgot,” It was your turn to look sheepish. You grimaced, moving to meet his eyes again.

“Figures,” he chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead, lingering there longer than needed, and caught your eyes again, sporting a serious expression this time.

“I’m not scolding you for forgetting baby, it happens, but I need you to lock that door,” he voiced in a whisper, blue orbs intently focused on you.

You sigh, breaking his eye contact, and nod heavily.

“I know Buck, I’m sorry,”

He shook his head, his flesh hand reaching up to caress your cheek and tilting your head to meet his eyes again. His lips met your nose, then your forehead, lingering there again, before holding your gaze and speaking softly.

“Don’t apologize doll, I just…,” He closed his eyes, hanging his head, trying to compose himself so as not to fall back into franticness.

“Hey,” Your soft voice and touch calmed him in an instant. Glossed-over blues met yours again and you brushed your lips over his in a sweet kiss. “I get it. I’m sorry I got you worried baby, won’t happen again. I promise!”

He leaned in to kiss you again angling your head to deepen it. It was slow and soft and you rested your forehead against his after pulling away.

“I missed you!”

He pulled you closer even though it was impossible, nuzzling his head against yours. His lips spread into a smile.

“I missed you too baby! So much.”

Your smile matched his. “You kill Sam yet?”

He chuckled lightheartedly, his body relaxing against yours, the tension in his shoulders leaving completely. He knew you tried to distract him and it worked. It’ll always work because you’re the only one able to ease his mind when his paranoia gets the better of him.

#bucky barnes x reader fluff #soft!bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #soft bucky #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year

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Eddie's Too Late ... ?

It's about pining Eddie!! And he wants so badly to ask out Steve. Robin even might have given him an encouraging little talk about it. And he finally works up the courage to do so, and comes to family video, and he brings fucking flowers with him cuz he's a goddamn sap.

But he walks in , already smiling at Steve like always, but he's talking to some guy at the counter. Some punk lookin dude. And Eddie freezes in the door, hears the guy flirting and hears Steve laugh, flustered. And then the guy literally asks him out, and writes his number on Steve's hand when he shrugs and nods, and goes bright red.

And Eddie just, god he wants to cry. So he turns, walks back out and leaves, his chest fucking aching. Cuz he was a fucking idiot who waited too goddamn long.

And Steve hears the door clink shut, sees Eddie's back as he's leaving, sees him toss something in the trash outside. And he waits for punk guy, Jake, to leave. He's a regular. He's nice. If a little pushy for Steve's liking.

He told Steve he'd pick him up on friday. Didn't ask. And Steve had been so flustered when the guy grabbed his hand he just sort of... agreed.... maybe hoping he would leave faster.

So he waits for him to leave and then runs outside, digs in the trash and finds the flowers. And they're all yellow flowers, sunflowers mixed with daisies, and Steve even sees a couple dandelions stuck in, his eyes crinkling in a smile cuz he and Eddie had gotten into a huge fight with Robin and Nancy about whether they were weeds or flowers, Eddie and Steve on the side of flowers, of course.

And his heart flutters cuz Eddie had told him about a month ago, when he handed him this weird little yellow figurine, and Steve had asked why he was always giving him yellow stuff. Eddie had shrugged and said,

"it just reminds me of you I guess." Steve had immediately reconsidered his favorite color choice.

But Steve's heart drops because... Eddie had thrown this away... in the trash... right after he'd seen Steve with Jake. Steve feels like he's gonna puke, but he takes the flowers inside, sits them in the breakroom until its time for him to leave.

He calls Jake right before close. Wanted to wait til he was hopefully at home. Tells him he can't go out with him. Not friday. Or any other day. That he has someone.. hopefully. Jake sounds disappointed but doesn't push, thankfully. Steve grabs the flowers on his way out and drives to Eddie's.

He stops by Melvald's on the way, asks Joyce for help. They have some flowers, but nothing that says "Eddie." Joyce grabs a simple red rose and then a box of chocolate covered cherries. Steve's brow furrows and she just smiles at him and says,

"I've seen that boy buy six boxes of these at once. His sweet tooth is... a little bit alarming... actually. But it'll get the job done." She winks at him and Steve's never felt more greatful that Joyce pays attention to people, and works at the store, and is nosy like he is. He hugs her, grabs the rose and the chocolates, and runs to his car.

Eddie isn't home when he gets there. His van is there. But he's not at the trailer and Steve feels like he's gonna cry, his chest tight as Wayne tells him he left a few hours ago. Steve nods, his brow furrowing and he's about to leave when Wayne's hand on his shoulder stops him.

"Ya know the creek over off McAlpine street?" He asks, Steve nods, confused.

"He was headed that way. Likes to go there to be alone." Wayne gives him this soft encouraging smile, pats him on the back, and watches as Steve runs to his car.

He parks on the side of the road, as close to the creek as he can get. And then he runs.

He finds the creek but no Eddie at first, so he starts walking along the creekside, he rounds a bend and finally sees him.

He's crouched on the creek side, toes of his shoes just barley out of reach of the water. He's holding a stick, Steve squints and sees a small turtle walking across it, toward a big rock in the middle of the water. Eddie's crying. Silently. Tears slowly falling.

He wipes at his face every now and then with his free hand, eyes on the turtle. He smiles softly when the little thing reaches the rock. Steve smiles too. His heart thumping as he watches Eddie help this tiny creature. He takes a few more steps and then clears his throat when Eddie doesn't hear him. Eddie scrambles to his feet, startled, holding the stick out in front of him like a weapon, wiping at his face with the crook of his elbow.

"What are you doing here?" And it makes Steve shiver, so reminiscent of the boat house, when they'd found him terrified. Steve would have held his hands up in surrender, but they were a little full. Eddie’s yellow bundle of flowers on one, the rose and candy in the other.

"I found your flowers." He says, holding them up a bit and then letting them swing back by his side. Eddie doesn't say anything. Just looks away. Moves back to the edge of the creek, crouches back down, hugs his knees to his chest. Steve sighs, moves closer.

"I'm not going out with Jake." Steve says, because he needs Eddie to know. Needs him to stop hurting as soon as possible. Eddie sniffles, doesn't look at him.

"Jake." Is all he says. And Steve laughs at how he says it, he sounds so annoyed. Steve bumps his shoulder, Eddie scowls, bumps him back, harder.

"But you wanted too. You said yes." Eddie picks up another stick, pokes it into the mud.

"I only said yes cuz it took me by suprise, and he grabbed my hand and I got flustered. I didn't- he's not really my type." Steve says, leaning against Eddie as he sits, the ground is cold, and he can feel the damp soaking into his jeans a bit. Eddie glances at him. And s

Steve can see his guard coming down, just a bit.

"Oh yeah. Why not?" Eddie asks, and steve smiles. Crinkles his nose.

"Me? Dating a punk? Come on. Not a chance." Steve teases, bites his lip.

"Especially since there's this metal head that's kinda got me in a choke hold." Steve sighs, looks at Eddie. He finally turns to look at Steve, blinking slowly.

"Really?" Eddie asks, his fingers tugging at the hole in the knee of his jeans. Steve nods.

"Really. Can't seem to get him outta my head." Steve smiles, holds the rose and candy out to Eddie, Eddie just stares again. Steve wiggles the box of chocolates.

"C'mon. I know you like 'em. Joyce gave you up." Steve wiggles the box more aggressively and Eddie snatches it, then gently takes the rose, he sets the chocolates in his lap, whispering a quiet "traitor" that makes Steve smile.

"Thank you for the flowers. I love... them." Steve stumbles over that bit. Swallowing hard when Eddie’s eyes snap to him.

"You're welcome." Eddie shurgs.

"Just thought you might like some flowers. You seem like a flowers type of guy." Steve smiles, rests his head on Eddie's shoulder.

"The dandelions are my favorite." He whispers, moves and presses a kiss to Eddie's shoulder, and hears Eddie's breathing falter.

"I um... I love... my flower, too..... so thanks." He stumbles over the words the way Steve did, but on purpose, leaning away from Steve so he can look at him, a sly little smile on his face. But Steve's face is somber, his hands twitch in his lap.

"It's- I mean you don't have to sa-"

"I love you." Eddie cuts him off. Says it bluntly. And it makes Steve's chest hurt. He shakes his head, brow furrowed.

"I do though. I have for awhile. I'm just an idiot with terrible timing." Eddie bumps their shoulders, leans heavily into Steve. Steve takes a deep, shaky breath.

"I don't want you to say it just because you think I want to hear it." Steve says, his teeth worrying into his lip.

"That's not why I said it."

Steve looks at him.

"No? You didn't say it to me cuz I just like... really obviously almost said it to you?" He looks back into his lap, frowning.

"No. Although that was adorable." Eddie smiles, it makes Steve want to smile too.

"Hey." Eddie voice is soft, he reaches out, cups Steve's cheek and makes him look at him.

"Have you ever known me to say something just cuz it's something someone wants to hear?" He asks, Steve scoffs, shakes his head, looking shy.

"Okay then. I didn't say it because of that. I said it," he takes a deep breath, lets it out, drops his hands back into his lap.

"Because I saw you with that guy today-"

"Jake." Steve interrupts, smirk on his lips. Eddie pauses.

"Don't push it Harrington. I'm trying to be... serious... or something." His brow furrows, Steve reaches out, his face softening.

"Sorry. Go ahead."

Eddie huffs.

"I saw you with Jake, and it hurt. Like a lot. And I thought I lost you, ya know? Just cuz I was too fuckin scared to tell you how I feel. Cuz I love you. Cuz your GOOD. and I thought I lost it. And then you walked up looking all sad and apologetic and you didn't even DO anything." Eddie huffs again, his hands flailing.

"I hurt you." Steve mutters, Eddie makes a sound in his throat.

"Not on purpose! You didn't know! Cuz I didn't say! Jesus. All I do is talk, all of the fucking time, but I couldn't say the most important thing. And then Jake was writing his fucking number on your hand it was too late." Eddie shakes head, sighs deeply, and then turns to Steve with a smile that looks like it's half a grimace of pain. Steve nods.

"But here I am."

Eddie bites his lip, nods back.

"Here you are." Eddie says.

"Not with Jake." Steve says. Eddie rolls his eyes. Steve snorts.

"Can we never say that name again. I already hate it." Eddie grumbles.

"Fine with me. He is a regular though." Steve says, shrugs, pulls some grass out of the ground and drops it on Eddie's thigh. Eddie watches him move it around with his finger, pushing it into a pile on his leg.

"I'll burn his house down." Eddie whispers, still watching Steve. Steve barks a laugh and brushes the grass off Eddie's leg.

"Very dramatic." He says, fondly.

"Too strong? I could just steal his VCR. Don't need to rent movies if you don't have a VCR." Eddie says, his fingers moving to settling on Steve's wrist. Steve chuckles again, shakes his head, then stares at Eddie.

"I honestly can't tell if you're joking, so please don't steal anything from him." Steve moves his hand, turns it and slides it up into Eddie's, their fingers wrapping around each other, Eddie makes a weird little face, holds their hands up into Steve sightline, and then he's smiling.

"Looks like I already did." He shrugs, and Steve is about to laugh again, or roll his eyes, when Eddie presses a kiss to the back of his hand. It sort of takes Steve's breath away.

"I said I love you because that's how I feel. Okay? You believe me?" Eddie asks, his brow furrowed as he stares at Steve. And Steve remembers telling him about what happened with Nancy, remembers how Eddie had hugged him. Wonders if he loved him them. Or before that? Or after. But it doesn't really matter, because he loves him now. And Steve watches Eddie's thumb move soothingly over his hand, and knows Eddie means it. Feels that he does. So he nods, drags Eddie's own hand to his lips and kisses it, like Eddie had done.

"I love you too." Steve whispers into his skin. Eddie's free hand is at his chin then, tilting his head just so,

"I know." Breathed against his mouth, and then the softest press of lips before Eddie is leaning away just enough to breathe between them.

"Now look away, cuz I'm about to inhale this entire box of chocolate covered cherries." He whispers, his lips brushing Steve's again as he laughs into Eddie's mouth.

He does actually eat the whole box. Well, almost the whole box. He lets Steve have one, sinks his teeth into it as he holds it in his mouth and dares Steve to take it. And Steve's never been one to turn down a dare. Especially if it's sweet.

And Steve is quickly learning, there's nothing quite as sweet as candy covered Eddie kisses.

#Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie blurb #steddie ficlet #my writing #mine #my fic

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

Text

There's No Escape (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: You find out the hard way what happens when Leon doesn't get what he wants, after all, actions have consequences, don't they?

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 4.8k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

THIS PART CONTAINS EXPLICIT VIOLENCE AND GORE, READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: Ok first off, I did not intend to make this part this long, but I was on a roll and the words just kept coming out (plus I wanted to get to the good stuff, you guys have waited long enough). Thank you again for all the support and love on this extremely self indulgent piece. I tried to proof read this one as best as I could without going cross eyed, so again, please excuse any grammatical errors. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You both sat in the living room of your apartment in silence. It was some ungodly hour in the morning, you didn’t bother to check. Neither of you could sleep. You both ensured that the front door was dead-bolted and all the windows were locked before settling into the living room. You couldn’t help but feel guilt wash over you as you silently cried. It was never your intention to drag Becky into this mess. You figured Leon would just move on. Clearly you were mistaken.

“Listen, Becky, I’m really sorry,” you say, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Sorry for what?”

“I put you in danger by moving in with you. If I knew Leon would be pulling this crap, I wouldn’t have come here.”

Becky let out a loud sigh, “we’re best friends. You would have done the same for me.”

You nod silently, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them.

“What I can’t wrap my head around is how he figured out where you worked so fast. Clearly that ‘prank call’ the other day was him. What did you say he did for a living again?”

You swallow hard before answering, “he works for the gov--”

Your eyes widen. The word “government” flashes in your mind like a curse. How could you have been so stupid? It’s a wonder he hadn’t tracked you down sooner.

“He works for the what now?”

“The government.”

You both stare at each other, the silence deafening.

“And… what exactly does he do for the government?”

“He’s some kind of special ops agent. Military training and all that…”

You watch Becky rub her face into her hands, exhaling loudly.

“Becky, I’m sorry…”

“It’s a miracle you’re not dead,” Becky’s muffled voice responds from under her hands before dropping them, “what the hell did you see in him anyway?”

“He was wonderful at first,” you reply, pulling out your phone and opening the photo gallery.

You scroll back to six months ago, when you and Leon first started dating. There were a million pictures of him and the two of you together. He wasn’t exactly smiling in the pictures, but you could tell he loved you. But, then, you notice subtle details in the photos; the way he was gripping your waist too tightly in one photo, his cold eyes in the next. There was one photo that stood out to you, he had you in a vice grip with one arm with his nose buried in your hair while you laughed. It was a candid photo but you couldn’t help but be unsettled by it now, given your current circumstances. This man was a walking red flag and you totally missed it.

“Maybe I should move,” you suddenly say.

“Absolutely not!” Becky exclaims, “we’re in this together! It’s way too dangerous for you to be out there on your own!”

“What am I supposed to do?! It’s not like I can go to the police and be like ‘Hi yes? I have a trained government agent that’s stalking me’ now, can I? They’ll never believe me!”

Becky shook her head, “I don’t know what we’re going to do but we’ll figure out something. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Becky.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was a bright, sunny day in Boston. You were coming out of the Dunkin’ Donuts right down the street from your apartment with a tray with two iced coffees as you made your way down the sidewalk. Your cellphone began to ring, you pulled it out to answer it.

Caller ID Unknown

You roll your eyes and reject the call. Before you even had a chance to put it back in your pocket, it began ringing again. The ID still said Caller ID Unknown. Again, you reject the call, but again, it immediately starts ringing. Annoyed now, you answer it. You hear a voice before you even have a chance to speak.

“Is one of those iced coffees for me? You shouldn’t have, princess.”

“Leon?!” You stop dead in your tracks and look around to see if you see him anywhere, but you don’t.

You hear him lick his lips, “Did you wear that sundress on purpose? You know that’s my favorite one, baby.”

“You fucking pig, leave me alone!”

“Now, now… what have I told you about swearing at Daddy? What a bad girl you are.”

Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you continue to whip your head around to see if you can see him, but you don’t, which makes you panic even more.

“Where the fuck are you Leon?! Stop hiding!”

You hear him laugh on the other end. Pissed off now, you hang up on him and run down the street, being mindful of the iced coffees in the tray. You had to get back to the apartment. You didn’t care what Becky said, you were moving out. You had no clue where you would go, but you knew you had to get as far away from here as possible. You’d drive to the ends of the earth if you had to.

You get to your apartment and rush up to the front door, digging your keys out from your pocket while precariously balancing the iced coffee tray in your other hand. You finally get a hold of your keys and start opening the front door.

“Becky, listen, we need to talk--”

You stop mid sentence as the door swings completely open, letting out an eerie squeak. You let out a loud gasp, dropping the tray and the iced coffees as you bring both hands to cover your mouth in shock.

There is blood everywhere.

Your eyes darted from the kitchen cabinets, to the island, to the fridge; everything had blood splattered all over it. Your eyes eventually settle on something laying on the floor. It was Becky, her eyes open wide and her mouth open in a silent scream as blood seeped from the large gash going across her neck.

You’re frozen in place, you can’t take your eyes off Becky’s lifeless form. You weren’t even gone for an hour; you were just talking to her this morning when she mentioned she was dying for an iced coffee. She had a school project to work on so she wasn’t able to go with you to go get Dunks like you normally would.

Hesitantly, you walk through the door and approach Becky’s body, a small part of you hoping she was somehow still alive. Your whole body trembles as you stand before her. Suddenly, you hear the front door squeak and slam shut, causing you to jump and turn around.

You see Leon, his hand holding the front door shut as he flips his beloved combat knife in his other hand. He lets out a low chuckle as he walks up to you, bringing the blood soaked knife to his lips, licking the blade clean before sheathing it.

“Baby, I didn’t want to have to kill Becky, but she left me no choice. You understand, right?”

“Fuck you!” your voice is like venom as you run over to one of the cabinets, whipping it open.

You start grabbing glasses and throwing them at him, which he effortlessly deflects with his hand as he continues to stalk towards you. You bolt from the kitchen and attempt to get into the living room, however you slip on Becky’s blood, falling to the floor, smacking your face hard against the hardwood floor.

Now dazed, you attempt to get back up but feel Leon grab you from behind by your underarms, standing you up and holding you against his body.

“You naughty girl,” Leon growled, kissing the back of your right earlobe, “Daddy’s going to have to teach you some manners.”

You desperately struggle in his grasp, however his grip on you is relentless. Looking out the window as you struggle, you realize the window has a clear view of the Dunks that you had just come from.

He was inside the apartment when he called.

“You fucking monster!” you scream, slamming your foot down on one of his boots; he doesn’t flinch.

“Oh princess… it seems you already forgot the rules, haven’t you? That’s fine. I have other ways of keeping you under control.”

You hear him grab something from his pocket and before you can react, you feel a sharp pain in the right side of your neck, making you flinch.

“What the hell was that?!” you cry out, feeling a strange sensation start to overtake your entire body.

“Shhhhhh it’s ok, it’s just to help you relax. Daddy’s got you, you’re safe with me sweetheart,” Leon purrs, kissing the back of your head as his hand runs through your hair.

Your movements quickly became sluggish, subconsciously grateful Leon was holding you up, otherwise you would have collapsed onto the floor. Your eyelids were getting heavy and before you knew it, the embrace of darkness took you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was well into the evening before Leon finished cleaning the mess left behind from Becky. One of the first things he did was wrap her body in a blanket and weigh it down with a chain and cinder block before dumping her into the bay. Thanks to his connections in the government, Becky would soon be erased from existence. You were safe in his Wrangler, sleeping soundly. Even if you somehow woke up from the tranquilizer, you wouldn’t be able to open the doors from the inside.

He then began gathering some of your things. He grabbed some of your clothes, toiletries and some of your books and your gaming console. There might be times he has to go out on assignments, so you would need something to do while he’s gone; he hated the thought of leaving you though. Once he was confident he had everything he needed, he locked up the apartment, got into his Jeep and started the engine. He had a very long drive ahead of him.

His destination was a plot of land just above the Northernmost part of Baxter State Park in Maine. He had purchased property up there and built a large cabin shortly after he got back from Spain. While he told you he was out on an assignment a few weeks ago, he was actually up at the cabin getting things ready to move you in. His original plan was to get back to the apartment in D.C. and bring you up there to your new home, however your disappearing act had put a wrench in that plan. He was thankful he trusted his gut and put the GPS tracker in your Renegade.

Thankfully, traffic was light, so he was able to get onto I-95 North relatively quickly. He glances over at you, sleeping peacefully. He could see your eyes moving underneath your eyelids.

“I wonder what you’re dreaming about, sweetie,” he says softly, using the back of his fingers to stroke your cheek before returning his attention back to the road, “I hope it’s me.”

He reaches up to the sun visor above him, grabbing a mix CD from the CD holder and putting it into the CD player. The song “Bullets” by Creed began to play. As the song picked up, he sang quietly to himself as his right hand moved from the stick shift to your thigh, rubbing it tenderly.

As he drove, his mind drifted towards the future. He imagined you finally coming around, living happily together, maybe even getting married. He imagined at least a couple little Kennedys running around the cabin, playing tag or whatever it was kids do these days. He imagined you in the kitchen making dinner and him walking up behind you, placing his arms around your waist to rub your belly that would be pregnant with another little Kennedy; the picture perfect family. He could feel himself grow hard, but he would not stop to indulge himself; perhaps when you both finally got to the cabin. He hoped by then you’d be awake.

He was looking forward to finally making his dream a reality.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Your eyes slowly flutter open and the first thing you feel is the skull crushing headache you have. You wince and try to sit up. You quickly realize you’re in bed. Was all that with Leon a dream? Was Becky alive still? You swing your legs around to get out of bed but you're jerked back by something cold around your neck. You blink, becoming hyper aware of your surroundings. You realize, too, that you were now in jeans and a t-shirt. This is not your bedroom at the apartment. You reach your hands to your neck and find you’re fitted with a metal collar that is attached to a chain, you look behind you; the chain is bolted into the wall.

“Oh what the fuck…”

You try to pull on the chain, but the bolts don’t budge, that’s when you realize your hands and ankles are also bound together by chains. You start hyperventilating.

What’s going on, why am I chained to the wall? Why am I chained in general? Where the fuck am I?

“You’re finally awake.”

Your head snaps up at the sound of Leon’s voice; you didn’t even hear him approach. He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that barely clung to his hips. His blue eyes gaze at you longingly.

“You’ve been an awfully bad girl, so Daddy had to punish you.” he says, his eyebrows furrowing in anger.

“Where’s Becky?!”

“Becky? I don’t know anyone named Becky,” Leon says in a ‘as a matter of fact’ tone.

“You fucking liar! You fucking killed her!”

Leon charged over to you, slapping you across the face. You cry out, holding your hand up to your face as your cheek stung from the aftershock of the slap.

“What did I tell you about swearing at Daddy, you dumb bitch?!”

You start sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking, “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I’m sorry… Daddy…”

“That’s much better,” Leon cooed, stroking the top of your head, “such a good girl.”

You absolutely loathe calling him ‘Daddy,’ it made you sick to your stomach. Leon sat on the bed next to you, continuing to stroke the top of your head.

“Do we need to go over the rules again, babygirl?”

You gave him a nod.

“Use your words, sweetie.”

“Yes…” you swallow hard, “Daddy…”

“Alright,” he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, “you remember the most important one, don’t you?”

“Be respectful, no swearing or backtalk… I have to listen to what you tell me to do.”

“That’s right. And?”

“I address you as… Daddy… I think you said sir was ok too but you prefer…” you wince like you have a bad taste in your mouth, “Daddy.”

“Such a smart girl, what else?”

“I can’t leave the apartment… erm…” you glance around the room, “house… without your permission.”

Leon gives you a gentle smile as he strokes your cheek, “see? You remember the rules just fine. However, Daddy had to make a new rule now that we’re here, ok?”

You swallow hard, your anxiety skyrocketing.

“Remember, you need to answer when I’m talking to you.”

“Ok… Daddy…”

He grabs onto the collar and pulls you to him, “when you misbehave, you go into the timeout room until Daddy thinks you’re ready to come out.”

“Is this… is this the timeout room?”

“So perceptive! Yes, baby, this is the timeout room,” he replies before giving you a kiss on the lips.

You reciprocate the kiss as much as it kills you inside to do so. He releases the collar and stands up from the bed. He stops at the threshold of the room, looking back at you.

“You must be so hungry, sweetheart, do you want Daddy to make you something to eat?”

“Yes, please.”

Leon narrows his eyes again in a silent threat.

“Yes please, Daddy…”

Seemingly satisfied with your response, he turns and leaves the room, shutting the timeout room door behind him. You take a deep breath, taking in your surroundings. The room had no windows or clock, so you had no way of gauging what time it was. You look up into the corner and see a camera, you reckon that’s how he knew you were awake; it probably has a motion detector in it. You take stock of your current situation. One saving grace was you were at least fully clothed, but you imagined that wasn’t going to last long. You couldn’t help but regret leaving D.C. to begin with; yeah you were trapped in an apartment in D.C., but you at least weren’t chained to a goddamn wall and Becky was alive.

Becky… I’m so sorry…

You hoped she at least put up a fight. Judging by the gruesome scene you stumbled upon, she had. However, you knew that Leon was practically unstoppable, you remember specifically his kicks were especially deadly. He told you stories about how he snapped people’s necks simply by roundhouse kicking them. However, from the looks of things he simply used his knife.

At one point, you thought that was so hot.

You bury your head into your hands and cry. You felt completely helpless and you hated it. You hated Leon with every fiber of your being.

“Oh sweetheart, please don’t cry,” you hear Leon say.

Again, you snap your head back up and find him in the doorway. He had a plate with a fork as well as a glass of water. As he approaches you, you see that he had made you waffles.

“I made you your favorite. Daddy loves you so much.”

“What time is it… D-Daddy?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“It’s just before 11, just in time for breakfast, sweetie,” he replies as he hands you the plate and fork.

“W-Where are we exactly…?”

He narrows his eyes for a moment, however, his expression quickly softens as he answers, “we’re home, that’s all you need to know, babygirl,” he brings his lips to your temple, giving you a soft kiss.

You fiddle with the fork in your right hand for a second, contemplating if you should try to stab it into his neck. Unfortunately the damn thing is made of that biodegradable shit, you foresee that ending badly. On top of that, it was one of those safety forks that you couldn’t break and turn into a sharp object, like the ones they give to inmates in prison.

That’s what this place is, not home, but a fucking prison.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s late; the only thing lighting the living room is the soft glow of the TV as Leon mindlessly surfs through channels in his recliner. The picture was a tad fuzzy since satellite television was the only thing Leon could get working out here, but he didn’t mind. He suddenly came upon an old sitcom, the scene playing out a wife doing the dishes and her husband coming home from work, kissing her on the cheek before taking off his coat. The man’s two children run in, hugging his legs.

Leon felt his heart sink at the sight. There were three things in life that he always wanted: to protect people, to find a nice girl to settle down with and to start a beautiful family. He didn’t really have a family growing up, his biological family was killed having been involved heavily in crime. He was adopted by a police officer, which inspired Leon to become a police officer himself. However, his dream was shattered the night he drove into Raccoon City on his first day being on the force.

To make matters worse, he was immediately taken in by the U.S. Government and interrogated about what happened that night and then ‘asked’ to join a top secret agency, mostly dealing with incidents involving B.O.W.s. His trip to Spain was no different, having been sent there to rescue the president’s daughter. Things were different that time, however, as he was able to get her safely back home after removing the Las Plagas parasite even though he had gotten infected himself in the process. He almost didn’t make it back, but by some miracle, the president’s daughter was able to remove the parasite from him before it completely consumed him.

When he returned from Spain, even though the mission was an overwhelming success, he still felt empty. He had no one to come home to; no wife to kiss him on the cheek and ask him how his day was. No kids to run up to him to give him a hug, to tell him how much they missed their Daddy.

He got up from the recliner abruptly and turned off the TV. He walks up to the timeout room door and slowly opens it. You were sleeping, you looked so peaceful in the low light from the nightlight in the room. He stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him before approaching the bed. He sat down next to your sleeping form, watching you for a few minutes. A smile forming on his lips, he runs his hand up your leg gently, causing you to stir in your sleep.

“L-Leon…?” you wake with a yawn, “is it morning? What time is it?”

Leon grew slightly irritated at the fact you didn’t address him correctly, but he let it slide for now.

“Daddy has decided he’s going to let you come out of timeout,” he said softly, “but only if you do something for me.”

You rub your eyes before propping yourself up on one elbow to face him, your eyes still dazed from sleep.

“What do you want me to do…?” you ask, your eyelids still heavy.

He leans over you, putting his lips up to your ear and whispering, “let Daddy fuck a baby into you.”

He hears your breath begin to tremble.

“Please, sweetie, please give Daddy a baby,” Leon continues, practically moaning in your ear.

You shake your head as tears form in your eyes; you sit up and press yourself against the headboard, and you look down at the tent in his sweatpants. Looking down at himself, his right hand goes into his sweatpants, pulling out his throbbing cock, giving himself a couple strokes, precum now dripping from the tip.

“Sweetie look, you’re making him cry. All he wants is to be inside you and give you a baby.”

Again, you shake your head at him, tears dripping off your face.

He frowns, bringing his free hand up to caress your cheek while the other continues to stroke his cock, “there is nothing to be afraid of, Daddy will take such good care of you when you’re pregnant, I promise.”

“Get away from me!” you whimper, pushing his hand away from your face.

Anger begins to boil within him, the frown quickly turning into a scowl. His free hand then grasps your throat, practically choking you. He watches as you struggle against his grasp, desperately trying to breathe but are not able to.

“You’re going to have my baby whether you like it or not, so we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, sweetheart. The choice is yours and I can tell you right now, you will not like the hard way,” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

“I… I… I’m….” you try to speak, but his grip on you is too tight.

Leon sees this and loosens his grip on you.

“I-I’m sorry Daddy, I’m really sorry Daddy. I’ll give you a baby, please don’t hurt me…”

A sinister smile overtakes him. He removes his hand from your throat.

“That’s my good girl,” he says, standing up, “you’re gonna make Daddy so happy.”

Leon grabs your jeans, ripping them off your body, only leaving your thin lace panties. He then removes his sweatpants, now completely naked.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commands.

You quickly comply, propping yourself up on your hands and knees. He kneels onto the bed as he looms over you, pushing you forward into the bed so that your ass is in the air.

“I was going to treat you and eat your pussy out before I pound a baby into you, but since you insist on being a bad girl, we’re skipping the foreplay tonight.”

“I’m sorry D-Daddy!” you cry, your voice muffled into the bed, “I’m sorry for being a bad girl…”

Ignoring you, he can’t help but see the dark spot on your panties; he lets out a low chuckle.

“Look at how wet you already are! And here you are telling me that you don’t want this. Silly girl…”

His fingers grab your panties and rips them off you, tossing them aside. He gazes upon your glistening pussy, unconsciously licking his lips. Grabbing your hips, he buries his mouth into your leaking hole, lapping up your juices. He hears you let out a soft moan.

“Oh fuck… your pussy tastes so good, I know I said I wasn’t going to eat you out, but I couldn’t help myself when your pussy was begging for Daddy’s tongue.”

He sits back up, grasping his cock in one hand while he aligns it up to your entrance. Without warning, he begins vigorously thrusting into you. He grabs your ass with both hands, putting all his energy into every trust. At first, he could hear quiet whimpers come out of you, watching your fingers claw into the sheets. He readjusts himself so that he was kneeling on one knee, giving himself a better angle to pound into your cervix. Now you were letting out loud moans, pushing your hips back to meet his eager thrusts.

“Oh, what a good girl you are! Daddy’s perfect little angel.”

His hands run up the sides of your body, slipping beneath your shirt and grabbing hold of your breasts. You moan his name as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.

Again with you not addressing him correctly…

He lets out a sigh, deciding it was fine, you get so drunk on his cock, so he decided a little lapse in the rules in the heat of passion was fine. Grabbing hold of your chest, he pulls you up so that your back is against him as he continues to pound into your hungry pussy.

“My princess loves Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she? You can’t hide that from me no matter how hard you try,” he growls before pulling out of you and turning you around to face him.

He pushes you back down onto the bed, pushing your legs forward and draping them onto his shoulders. He sheathes himself back into you, leaning in to devour your lips.

“D-Daddy… I’m… I’m… I’m gonna…”

“Don’t cum yet, sweetie, wait and cum with Daddy, ok?”

You nod, letting out a whimper and leaning your head back onto the pillow, your eyes rolling into your head as he continues his assault on your pussy. He can feel that he’s close to his release; in preparation for this his thrusts become short but intoxicatingly deep, causing him to let out a low, animalistic growl.

His growl must have affected you because he felt you instantly cum on his cock, causing him to hit his own release, shooting hot ropes of cum into you as he pressed into you. He held himself there for several minutes until his cock stopped pulsating. He slowly pulled out and looked down at you, admiring his handiwork. He watched his cum start to leak out, using his fingers, he scooped it up and pushed it back into you. He didn’t want to waste a drop.

“Stay like that ok, sweetie? Daddy has to go get the keys to bring you out of timeout.”

Grabbing his sweatpants off the floor, he slips them back on before walking back out into the kitchen. The sun was just starting to come into the windows. He walks up to a safe that’s embedded into the wall; it's the kind with the turn style lock. He inputs the combination, grabbing a couple keys from it before shutting it. He goes back into the bedroom, smiling when he sees you haven’t moved.

What a good girl.

He walks up to the bed, unlocking your collar first before removing the chains from your wrists and ankles. He then picks you up effortlessly, bridal style, taking you out of the timeout room and into the master bedroom. He gently lays you down, giving you a kiss on the forehead. He then climbs into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, falling asleep within seconds.

Part 4

#there's no escape #gigabyte writes #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year

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Nail Polish

Bradley Bradshaw x reader 1k words

summary: You just did your nails. And freshly painted nails mean not touching anything.

got the idea for this one because i did do my nails today and then also dyed my hair and so had to shower and while i was undressing had to pull down my pants with like, my fingertips, and my mind was just going “Bradley Bradshaw would NOT let me do this. he would NOT let me do this.”

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

You grunted as you pinched at your waistband, trying to peel the button of your jeans away and not mess up the fresh paint you’d put on your nails - which was easier said than done.

You probably should have just showered first. Done your nails afterwards. But you were stressed, alright, so none of this was your fault. The squad was going to be here in less than an hour and you’d only got off work at six, then had to eat, then had to get ready. In the span of like, two hours.

With a sigh, you leaned your forehead against the mirror above the sink and closed your eyes. You had to get out of these jeans. You’d already spent way too long dwelling on it.

A soft knock at the door ripped you from your thoughts. You looked up - it stood open (you hadn’t bothered closing it) and Bradley was leaning against the frame with an arm above his head, his knuckles resting on the wood, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Need some help there, baby?”, he asked. You huffed.

“I should’ve showered first”, you pouted. “I’ve been trying to get my jeans off without ruining my nails for the past five minutes and so far I’ve done this.”

You gestured at your opened zipper.

It was kind of sad, really, but he knew you inside out, all the most embarassing parts of you, so you found no reason to blush and hide anything.

“You could’ve just asked me to do it”, he chuckled, already moving away from the door and closer to you.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when he came close enough to touch, sinking down on one knee in front of you. You had to swallow at the sight. One of the best navy fighter pilots in the world, down on his knees for you. It still surprised you that out of all the people on this goddamn planet, you’d somehow managed to find him and keep him.

You’d always joked that you wouldn’t settle for a man unless he worshipped you like a goddess.

Now, as Bradley kneeled in front of you, his hands so gently on your thighs as he worked the button on your jeans for you, as he hooked his thumbs into your waistband, grazing your skin softly, you weren’t so sure it was a joke anymore.

It had been at first, yes. But he seemed to have made it his mission in life to treat you like a queen, and you had to say you were not complaining. No one in your place would.

“You never bother me”, he muttered, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of your leg as he pulled your jeans down ever so carefully. You had to fight the desire to bury your hands in his hair - for the sake of your nails. So instead, you braced your palms on the edge of the sink and watched him work.

You lifted your feet off the floor when he motioned for you to, shifted your weight when he left a slow trail of kisses up your legs, met his eyes when he stood up and brushed his thumbs below the hem of your shirt.

“Arms over your head”, he instructed and you followed like some senseless robot, “I’ll be careful with your nails.”

He pulled your shirt up, slowly exposing your skin to the cool air of the bathroom, sliding it up your arms - then grabbing for your right wrist, keeping it steady as he slipped it over your hand, not catching any of your nails even once, and doing the same for your left.

Bare in just underwear before him, maybe you should have felt indecent - embarrassed, uncomfortable, naked - but you didn’t. Even under his watchful eye, you never felt any sense of dread, only a pleasant warm haze spreading from your chest through the rest of your body. He was smiling, dropping your shirt and putting his hands to your waist instead, pulling you to him until you were pressed against him, arms crossing behind his neck as if in reflex.

“You’re beautiful”, he muttered, and you could feel his breath on your lips. “I’m so lucky.”

“You’re lucky?”, you chuckled. “You? Bradshaw, do you know how amazing you are? I mean-”

You were ready to ramble on about just how great he was for hours on end (you’d already proven you could do that before, when he’d said something bad about himself once and you’d set him down at the kitchen table and presented a 167 arguments-long list of why he was the absolute best) but he cut you off with a kiss, the words dying on your lips.

You nothing short of melted into him, his body so warm and comfortable and simply perfect around you, fingers snaking up to thread through the hair at the back of his head -

He pulled back.

There was a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He grabbed for your wrists, pulling your arms back and settling them on his chest instead.

“Careful”, he murmured. “Don’t want to ruin your nail polish.”

And then he was leaning in again and you forgot that you’d wanted to say “Fuck the nail polish”.

You could only think that yes, this was the perfect example of Bradley Bradshaw, ever the gentleman.

#top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader

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zanarkandskylines · 2 months

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₊✩‧₊◜ a special morning hike

『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — inspired by the one and only Sharmeleon/Sharla in Japan’s beautiful sunrise from Ibaraki, Japan clip at the Oarai Isosaki Shrine’s seaside torii gate! couldn’t help but think about how much a hiking fanatic like Katsuki would adore the sight. -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist ｡‧˚ʚ ao3 version | word count; ~1.7k ɞ˚‧｡

April 15th: 4 years, 6 months and 18 days you’ve been entangled in Katsuki’s web.

But who’s counting?

The two of you met at the start of your twenties, interning at the same hero agency for pro-hero training. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to stay late at the office to catch up on paperwork, often keeping one another company into the night. One thing led to another, and here you are!

He’d just moved up a few ranks on the hero charts this past season - number three! - which was more than enough reason to celebrate this weekend. It just so happened to be a few days before his 25th birthday, too. He was none the wiser to your little plan, the aforementioned accomplishments hiding the real celebration.

Traveling four and a half hours from home was not as bad as you thought it would be, but exhausting nonetheless. The two of you are winding down in the resort’s hot spring together after dinner, the leftover sun rays peaking through the fence and reflecting off the steamy water.

“Never thought I’d be one ‘ta like shit like this,” Katsuki sighs, sinking lower into the oasis’ warmth. “ ‘s nice.”

You can’t help but smile, relaxing deeper into the water yourself. “Worth every penny to spoil you, handsome.”

He playfully splashes water in your direction, flustered by your praise. “Yeah, yeah.”

By the time eight rolls around, you’re drained from the long travel day and relaxing back in your hotel suite. You can tell Katsuki is too with the way his eyes are struggling to stay open while lounging on the couch.

“We’ve got an early day tomorrow, let’s turn in. We gotta be up at five!” You say as you nudge his shoulder.

“Fuckin’ five?!” He groans, slumping against the couch. Even though he always went to bed early, somehow Katsuki was never a morning person after all these years.

“Yep! Breakfast and then the sunrise is at six. We can come back and rest after that for as long as you want.”

“Better be the best goddamn sunrise for all that effort.”

You were hellbent on making it memorable for him, nerves be damned. You only had one shot at this and it had to be perfect.

He deserves nothing but the best in your eyes.

The alarm sounds in the darkness at five the next morning, earning dual groans from under the covers of your bed.

“Morning sunshine,” you croak as you’re rolling over to kiss Katsuki good morning. He ruffles your hair and accepts your kiss with a huff.

“Mornin’ baby. C’mon, get up before ya trap us in bed by snugglin’ up to me. This was your idea.”

Still in the process of waking up, the two of you successfully get dressed for the chilly spring morning and head to the resort lobby for breakfast. A stack of pancakes and plate of eggs later, you take Katsuki’s hand and lead him outside the resort to the nearby trail.

“It’s a five minute walk this way!” You exclaim, a little too chipper for his liking this early in the day.

“What’s got ya so…peppy?” He asks quizzically, weirded out by your burst of energy. “You’re usually still dead to th’ world at this hour.”

You say nothing in response and continue tugging him along the trail, grin growing wider as you approach the shoreline. Shockingly, no one else is on the beach and you end up having the area to yourselves.

Yes! That’s one hurdle out of the way!

Right on time, the sun begins peaking out over the horizon as the waves crash around the torii gate in the distance. The scene is breathtaking - the way the water flows fills you with a sense of serenity and helps calms your shaking hands. Out of the corner of your eye, you can spot Katsuki gazing in awe as well at the scenery, taking in the moment with you. His eyes are glistening in the sunlight, ruby irises flickering in the sorbet glow.

Alright, now or never! You got this!

“Katsuki,” you start, taking his hands in your own and turning to face him. You’re hoping that the trembling in your fingers isn’t as noticeable as it feels. You could blame it on the cold, if anything.

“I love you, more than anyone in the world. I wanted to bring you out here to show you that-”

You’re interrupted by him…laughing. Cackling, even. It catches you off guard, making you want to go crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. Was he really laughing at your attempt to ask him one of the most important questions in your life?

Realizing how he could be coming off as the world’s biggest asshole, Katsuki stops laughing and squeezes your hands. “ ‘m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, sweets.”

“Then why are you laughing?” You pull your hands away from his, crossing your arms and casting your eyes to the dirt.

He grabs your shoulders, tracing down your arms and taking your hands once more. “Cause the timin’ is comical.”

He fidgets with one of the pockets in his coat, pulling out a red velvet box. That’s when you start laughing.

“No way, are you serious?!” Reaching into your jacket pocket, you fish out a black velvet box of your own.

The air suddenly feels much lighter, the sound of the ocean filling the silence as you stare into each other’s eyes.

“I had a whole speech,” Katsuki whispers, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “And I wrote ya a letter back in the room.”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So did I!”

You’re not sure what to do next - do you just…give it to him? Do you go through the speech anyways?

“What are ya waitin’ for? Ask me already, dammit,” he demands, taking a step back and placing his hands on his hips as a blush creeps over his features.

You giggle before composing yourself.

“Katsuki, I love you more than anyone in the world. I know you’re not one for cliches, but I wanted to show you this sunrise as a way to bring in a new dawn of our lives. You’re a flame in the dark that I can look to for warmth and always leads me back home. You’re the armor I wear everyday into battle, knowing you’ll always protect me from harm and keep me safe.”

At this point, you’re getting choked up on your own words as you hear them aloud. Carefully, you kneel to the ground in front of him, your legs threatening to give way from the nerves. When you look up at Katsuki, you can see a singular tear dripping from his jawline - the sight makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“I’ll sound like a broken record if I keep listing all the cliches I had in my head. That leaves me with just one question,” you pause to present the black box, opening to reveal a beautiful rose gold band with a golden stripe through the middle. “Katsuki Bakugo, will you marry me?”

Katsuki exhales the breath he was holding, eyes glassy as he narrows his focus on the ring in the box. He lets out a ‘tch’, grimacing playfully as he holds out his left hand.

His voice cracks as he answers with a simple, “Of course I will, idiot.”

Cautiously, you take his ring out of the box and slide it onto his left ring finger, praying you don’t drop it and ruin the moment. You stand to your feet, his left hand holding your own. He’s about to pull you in for a kiss when you stop him, placing your hand gently on his chest.

“Your turn now!” you beam, taking a step back and clutching your jacket. Katsuki’s face snaps from joy to fear, forgetting that he told you he was also planning to propose to you here moments ago. He places a hand on the back of his neck and sighs anxiously, his breath visible in the frigid air.

“R-right.” He clears his throat before taking hold of your left hand. “I…you know ‘m not a poet or whatever. ‘S why I wrote ya a letter cause I know I’d forget somethin’ important to say in the moment. I’ve been carrying around this box for weeks, not knowin’ just when I was gonna ask you. I’ve known for awhile now that I wanted…” he pauses, taking a shaky breath.

“…wanted you to be my wife. Is that weird to say?”

You nod your head, chuckling at his nervous rambling. “Not at all.”

“G-good. Cause there isn’t anyone else I wanna be beside and grow old with. It’s you, sweetheart…it’s always been you. Never thought I’d be lucky enough ‘ta find someone like you. But, I wouldn’t change it for anything. So,” Katsuki stops to crouch down on one knee, re-revealing the red velvet box from his pocket. The ring inside is absolutely gorgeous - a golden band intertwined with smaller gems and a pear-shaped diamond in the center.

“Y/N…will you marry me?”

You can’t help but choke back a sob when he drops the question, overwhelmed by the situation. The tears are forcibly streaming down your cheeks as you yell, “Yes!”

Katsuki doesn’t hesitate to grab your left hand and place the ring on your finger. Not surprising, it fits perfectly. You’ll have to grill him later on who he asked to snoop to get the right size - probably Uraraka or Jiro. Or maybe he took one of your decorative rings to the jeweler to mimic the size.

He rockets to his feet, hands shooting to cradle your cheeks immediately and places his forehead against yours.

“ ‘s just you an’ me, peach. I love you,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your arms lace around his neck as he picks you up, swinging you in his arms gracefully. When you part, he wipes a stray tear from your cheek and smiles from ear to ear.

The sun casts the last of its pastel hues and paints the scene of a new beginning - it’s the two of you, now and forever.

⋆ ˚ʚɞ — Women proposing to men always make me sob, it’s so sweet and you know Kat would be a mess once you’re back in the hotel room. like “how dare you beat me to that!” while simultaneously sobbing over the fact you asked him first ✨

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader fluff #my hero academia fluff #bnha bakugou #bakugo imagine #☆.rei writes

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ethansespresso · 11 months

Text

possessive

johnny knoxville x gn!fem!reader

words: 2333

tags: smut!!!, possessive johnny, jealous johnny, minor degrading, bam is a whore, uhhh aftercare

summery: you’re pretty, johnny’s agitated that everyone’s looking at you.

maybe it's the daisy dukes, maybe it's the bikini top, or maybe it's the way the strings of your swimsuit bottoms fit your hips, but whatever it is, something has johnny red and jittery in his beach chair across the lawn.

his leg is shaking at a rapid pace, his fingers drumming on the arm with his jaw clenched and eyes darkened.

you glance at him, confused and questioning, but he gives no clues as to what's wrong.

you frown, it's almost scary seeing him like this, unknowing of if he might explode, and if so, who will it be directed at? bam? steve? you? you shudder. you know it's just the ptsd, he wouldn't, johnny would never raise his voice with you. even before he knew your past he was gentle with you. still, you can't help but be uneasy around him, and his unrelenting stare. it felt as though he might pounce on you. you wonder if he takes notice of you slipping into the kitchen, away from the heat and noise and his eyes that were seemingly undressing you. you're putting cups in the sink, rinsing out the stickiness from the spiked lemonade; you're on vacation with the crew, and the bonfire still going strong even after the long hours had gone by, though it seems that everyone is still going strong, too. your ice machine begins whirring as the spheres clank into your cup, but you still hear the creak of the back door opening.

you whip around, only to see bam, sopping wet with his swim trunks dipping dangerously low.

"hey," your eyes avert away from his waist, and there's johnny right behind him with the same death glare as he'd been giving you before. "do you have more beer? ryan and i wanna do beer pong together." he grins.

"what's the loser do? kiss the winner?" you snicker, trying to keep your eyes away from johnny watching you with an intense stare. you pour more lemonade into your cup, sipping as the burn runs down into you. shuddering again, you point at the cooler. "there, have at."

he nods thankfully, grabbing a couple of cases and scurrying out.

and then it's just you, and johnny, and your tipsy thoughts. you can't seem to croak anything out, his jaw clenches harder and fear overwhelms you, you can't think properly anymore. the alcohol is taking over your brain inch by inch, and somehow through your fear, you can see the hint of lust in his eyes.

you're pretty sure that glint is being returned.

he's towering over you, and you're positive it's because you glanced at the way bam's trunks went too far down. how his v-line protruded, but it was nothing like the man standing in front of you.

you didn't want him, you remind yourself before the guilt can set in. you were just afraid they'd drop right down on your kitchen floor leaving a soggy mess.

you want johnny. his trunks aren't sagging, but his v-line is much more visible, along with the slight six-pack. the golden skin, the soft happy trail, all sitting right before you, tempting your deepest, darkest desires. your mouth is watering as you get sucked deeper into your focus on him.

"sweetheart," and his voice is soft and gravelly, a sign he'd been drinking too.

you're broken out of your trance as he drawls, "doll, look at me," his fingers touch your chin to lift your gaze up to his. "they've been drooling over you all goddamn day," it's almost a growl when he speaks yet his hand cups your face ever so gently, you can't help but melt into his touch. he licks his lips, "it makes me sick how they stare at you, can't stand the thought of anyone touching you, you know? bam coming in here, his trunks like that, he knew what he was doing. you're so goddamn edible." he gives a little scowl that you can't help but want to kiss away. and as if he reads your mind, he dips down to kiss your lips, "all mine, my pretty little whore."

you nod, your shoulders relax, and seeing his eyes still dark you understand. there's a burning inside you, and you're not quite sure if it's the alcohol, how johnny's hands are touching you, or maybe a bit of both.

you belong to him, it sinks in and it makes heat bubble in your stomach, he's scooping you close and bringing you out, his hand in your back pocket with a firm grip on your ass.

wolf whistles call out from friends, mostly in a joking manner, but it still makes johnny huff in a sharp breath, glaring once again.

"you're so fucking sexy, look at all these vultures staring you down," he mutters to you, and you can't help but shiver at his words when a tingle shoots down to your core. you blush, feeling all eyes on you. it makes you feel insecure, and you need a way for everyone's eyes to get off you, but then johnny sits, pulls you into his lap, and starts kissing under your ear. "mine, all mine." he purrs, a big hand on your thigh, the other on top of your hand with your fingers interlaced with his.

his cock begins to harden beneath you, and your breath catches in your throat. you need him, your thoughts are racing with all the things you want him to do to you. you hope he catches the hint to have a bit more privacy and you purposefully scoot across his cock while getting down. "i'm going into the water, you can come." you offer with a soft smile as you step down the beach into the cool ocean of your rented vacation home. it's an off-white with a wrap-around deck; there's a patio where the cup-pong is getting set up, a pavilion with snacks and drinks, and then there's you and johnny crossing across the soft sand into the warm water. his hands are wrapped around your waist and you rest your head against his chest.

"the sunset is pretty." you relax against him as he nods, bringing you closer to him. your eyes focus on the blurring colors in the sky, relaxing into his tense body. you turn around to face him, your cheeks are pink from the alcohol and the burning sun. his eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint, and you find your mouth parted ever so slightly, staring in awe.

"kiss me," you can barely whisper out, you're so entranced by him you can't think. "please." and his lips are touching yours without the chance for a second thought, you're pressed tightly together in the cool water under darkening skies. everything is muffled around you, the yelling and the catcalls, all gone from both of your minds. it's all focused on each other, the way your mouths are together, the way he tastes and smells and feels. god the way his cock pressed against your stomach, the heat radiating from his body, the way he wouldn't pull away for a single gasp of air, it was bound to make you dizzy. his hand grabbed at your ass, his mouth is leaving yours, and it's trailing down your neck. "johnny," you give out a hushed whine when you feel his cock rut against your thigh. "yes, sweetheart?" you melt at his tone, possessive, owning, and desperate. yet you can't get out what you need, it's only a pathetic plea you hope johnny will understand. "mm," he hums in a satisfied way, his hand moving to the inside of your thigh. "i want you too, honey. let's go back inside, hm?"

you nod eagerly, your body aching for him. your body is burning from the inside out with a desperate desire for the man with his icy hands groping at you. your head spins as your lips connect once more, and you gasp suddenly when his teeth sink into your lip. he presses himself against you even harder, and your body quivers beneath him. the water is getting colder by the second with the moon creeping into the sky, but it doesn't quite register with you and your feverish arousal that the temperature is dropping rapidly. it doesn't feel quick enough, but you're practically running to keep up with his long strides back to the house. you brush against bam, his eyes wide as he looks at you, and then at johnny's stern expression, and he yells something unintelligible to johnny about getting laid. everyone is staring, you can tell that now, and something in your stomach churns into more excitement as you can tell they know exactly where you're going. "i’m gonna be doing the laying, actually." he quips with a sly smirk and a wink to you.

the door of your bedroom is slammed behind you, and then before you can breathe you're pressed against the door with johnny's knee between your legs.

"fuck," you gasp out, grinding down onto him. "need you."

he lets out a quiet growl, feeling your warmth on his thigh, "need you too, princess. c'mon." he lifts you up onto his hipbone, and easily placing you onto the bed like paper he begins to tug at your jean shorts. you're so helpless underneath him; his tall, strong being looming over you. he's staring at you like you're his prey, and he's finally got you in his captivity, even tho he knows he had you all along. he brings his head down to bite your lip again, kissing you in such a romantic way made everything he was doing feel even dirtier. his lips make their way down your neck and down to your abdomen, claiming you as his with love bites wherever his teeth could sink. you whimper under him when his hot breath ghosts over your cold thigh. he places soft kisses along the inside of your thighs up to your bikini bottoms, his other hand gripping onto your hip to keep you still. he kisses up to your clit, making you shudder. he grins mischievously, his thumb caressing your pelvic bone while he kisses up the waistline. sliding them down, he places even more sloppy kisses before flicking along your clit with his tongue.

you let out a quiet whimper as his warmth continues to envelop your most sensitive areas. before you can even begin to catch your breath, his finger is sinking into you, pressing into you harshly. "oh, fuck. oh, god," your voice is raising and you quickly cover your mouth to muffle your desperate moans.

"no, no, honey," and he's grabbing your wrists and pining them above the bed. "let them hear you, i need them to hear you." he demands, and instantly you let out a small whimper as if on command. his fingers quicken at your noise, and his lips are against your ear sending shudders through your body like his breath was electric. "who makes you feel good, doll?"

"you." you're gasping out, eyes rolling back as he presses into your g-spot.

"who, baby? who's touching you, hm? tell them who's making you feel good." he continues, and you can feel your orgasm creeping up.

"johnny-johnny, you do, fuck you make me feel good. please, i'm so close." you cry, getting just to your climax when he pulls out his fingers. "fuck, please, please, please." you're begging with watery eyes and flushed cheeks, and he's pulling down his swim trunks, letting his cock out to press against his stomach leaving a drip of precum.

"are you ready?" he asks softly, his dark eyes sparkling when they meet yours. you nod to him, whispering out a yes as he presses himself into you. every time with him always feels just as special as your first. the way he holds you, the way he encourages and compliments you, the way he stares as if you're a precious jewel. it makes you feel warm and tingly, it makes you teeter closer to reaching your abandoned climax from not so long ago. his thrusts stay rhythmic, rocking his hips against yours at a steady pace. your body rocks with his, his moans sending sparks flying through you.

"please, please i'm so close," you beg for him once more, and his thumb goes down to flick your clit. now you're squeezing around him, all of the feeling overwhelming your senses as he's urging you, "cum, cum for me, baby. let them hear how good you feel. that's it, there you go." and with a sharp cry of his name, you reach a breathless climax. you feel cum dripping out of you, and a hand caressing your stomach. "hi, sweetheart. there you go, good job." he praises, encouraging you to come back down to him. "you did so good, make me feel so good, sweetheart." he continues, and you can feel him cleaning you up, a soft, warm towel wiping at your aching thighs.

"thank you," you whisper, a smile creeping onto the corners of your mouth. he leans in to kiss you softly, his body towering over you and his hands holding your face.

he smiles against your lips, "how 'bout a bath? or shower, hm?"

you can only nod, your throat aching in an unforgiving way. johnny leaves you to turn on the water, leaving the door open only a crack.

your head lays flat against the pillow, and you listen to the muffled voices outside.

“shit, knoxville.”

“yea, precious little thing,” the distinct drawl of your boyfriend, continuing to praise you.

the door creeks open, and johnny’s there coming to scoop you up and into the shower. “come on, princess.”

you peck his lips, laying bridal style in his arms. “i love you,” it’s hushed and soft, even though you wish the world could hear you.

“i love you.”

#johnny knoxville #steve-o #jackass #jackass fic #jackass smut #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville smut

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