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eternalxvenus · 4 months

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୨⎯ Like a good neighbor, Gojo is there ⎯୧

summary: You've just moved into a fixer-upper in a quaint neighborhood, excited to start building and designing your dream home. Everything's perfect…or would be, if it weren't for that gorgeous but obnoxious Satoru Gojo next door, who you fight with practically every day.

cw: smut 18+, satoru gojo x f!reader, smut, a little fluff, a smidgen of plot if you squint, gojo is annoying, no curses au, gojo is stupidly rich, pet names (baby, sweetheart), oral f!receiving, p in v, light choking, squirting

word count: 1.5k

notes: this is my first time writing smut so pls bear with me… the tile is bc that logo has been stuck in my head all damn day </3, im also debating on making a part 2… and lastly HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!

You woke up to the sound of birds and wind, the sun shining brightly through your uncovered windows. As you stretched your limbs out with a groan trying to fully wake up, you thought about all the things you had to do today.

The clock shown 9:15am. Getting out of bed, the house was warm thanks to the summer morning. After doing your morning routine and eating breakfast you decide that you’re next project for the house will be painting the outside porch railing. You already had the paint, opting for a soft brown color.

Outside the air was warm and almost humid. The half empty coffee cup rested on the small table you had out there. Your clothes were already stained and rugged from previous projects done on the house. You picked up a paintbrush and promptly started on the porch.

About an hour or so later you were still painting, a light sheen in your forehead as you hummed a song stuck in your head. This was the peace you were looking for.

“Heyyy Y/N, how’s your morning going?” You roll your eyes, recognizing the all to chipper voice. Your neighbor Satoru Gojo. He was the most non-peaceful thing about the entire neighborhood. You tried to ignore him, but of course he was already making his way over. “I said good morning, what’s wrong too tired to speak?” he inquired.

A loud huff leaves your mouth. “No Gojo. I just don’t want to speak. To you at least.”

“Ah don’t be like that. I know what’s got you in a sour mood. It’s that ugly paint color isn’t it? Looks like shit— literally.”

“Gojo please do not come over here starting nonsense. It’s a pretty neutral brown. Now go away and leave me be.” You pick up the paint can and move to the next part of the porch. Gojo watches you lazily as you move about. He’s uncharacteristically silent and you almost forget that he’s even there. Glancing up to give him a look that says ‘What?’

With a no good smile on his face he says “Have lunch with me Y/N. Take a break and i’ll make us something good.”

You thought about declining but you were really hungry. As if on command your stomach growled rather loudly. “What’s the catch? You berate all my artistic choices thus far?” you deadpan.

With a hand over his chest in mock offense Gojo replies saying, “I would never!” He starts walking over to his house beckoning you to follow. “C’mon i’ll make us some sandwich wraps.”

You follow Gojo into his house and i soon as you step inside you see the stark contrast the inside has compared to the outside. Everything looks modern and sleek.

Gojo clears his throat before speaking. “Have a seat wherever. I’ll get started on the wraps.” You give a brief nod, walking into his living room to get a closer look at the decor. Fifteen minutes later, Gojo walks in empty handed.

“I put the wraps in the fridge. I usually let them sit in there about 10-15 minutes before eating so they have a better crunch and don’t get as soggy.” He plopped down on the couch stretching out his arms and legs. His eyes kept moving down to your ass as you walked around. “Come sit and let’s talk.”

You sit down next to him, making sure to leave a good amount of space between you both, before he scoots you closer by the hips.

“You know, I’ve never had such a pretty neighbor before…” Gojo’s voice is smooth and filled with seduction. Your heartbeat picks up as he places a hand on your thigh squeezing lightly.

“Gojo… what are you doing?” You ask in a breathy voice. His touch had an effect on you and you hated it. The last thing he needed was an ego boost.

“Oh come on Y/N, why do you think i’m always coming to bother you? I needed an excuse to see your pretty face.” He lowered his head to place light kisses along your jaw and neck. You moved your head to the side to give him better access. It couldn’t hurt to have a little fun…

Gojo moves from your neck and looks into your eyes. You see the dark lustful look in them before he pulls you in for a heated and bruising kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, both of you barely stopping to get any air. You can feel the heat and arousal rushing through your body as he pulls you into his lap. Lifting his hips up slightly you can feel that he’s already hard and definitely not small. You break the kiss to pull off your shirt and Gojo nearly rips off your bra before taking one of your hard nipples into his mouth while working the other between his fingers. “Ah… Gojo-”

“Satoru” he says breathing heavily and looking into your eyes. “Please call me Satoru.”

“Satoru… don’t tease.” you nearly whine.

“Fuck… i need to taste you.” Without missing a beat Gojo lays you down on the couch, making quick work of getting your jeans and panties off. “You’re so wet, this all for me?” his lips formed that cocky smirk. “Shut up and do something.” you say squirming. He grabs your hips to still you then lowers his head to taste your arousal. “You taste better than I could’ve imagined… so fucking sweet.” He goes straight into it, sucking your clit into his mouth and teasing your hole with his tongue like he’s starved. Your hands immediately find purchase in his hair. You tug slightly making Gojo moan which only adds to the knot that’s already forming in your stomach.

You try to lift your hips but he has you in an iron grip. Heavy pants and moans slip past your lips as you feel that familiar sensation or your orgasm. “Ah! Sa-satoru! Fuck i’m gonna cum!” he continues working his tongue on your clit as he inserts two of his long fingers inside of you, curling them to hit that spot that has you seeing stars. Gojo eagerly licks and sucks all that you’re offering as you slowly start to come down from your high. He kisses your thighs and slowly makes his way up to your face. “I could eat you out all day” he breathes out. “But right now I wanna be inside you.”

You watch as he takes off his pants, seeing the wet patch on his boxers from his precum. After removing the rest of his clothing he now rests in between your legs, stroking himself as he rubs his tip against your clit. You buck your hips trying to get more friction but Gojo won’t budge. “Tell me what you want.” he whispers aligning himself with your entrance. “Satoru just fuck me please!” You say impatiently. The only warning you have is Gojo saying “If you say so.” before sliding his cock in until he bottomed out.

He threw his head back with a groan. “Shiiiit baby you’re so fucking tight.” He gave you a moment to adjust then started fucking you at an almost inhuman pace. All you could do was moan not able to form anything coherent. You felt Gojo’s hand come to your neck and squeeze just enough to heighten the force of his thrust. “You take me so well… this slutty pussy just keeps sucking me in.” His free hand slipped down to rub harsh circles on your clit causing you to practically scream. “Satoru! Too much!”

“You can take it baby i’m almost there. I want you to cum for me.”

Gojo keeps up his unrelenting pace and overstimulates your clit. You can feel him throbbing inside of you as his thrusts start to stagger and get sloppy signaling he was close. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum… gonna cum all over those pretty tits.”

“Please Satoru! Feels so good… fucking cumming ah!” You feel a gush of warm liquid between your legs just as Gojo pulls out whimpering while spilling his cum all over your stomach. “F-fucking shit! Fuck baby…” you both lay there panting as Gojo gives you small feathery kisses. After a minute or two he gets up to grab a towel to clean you up with. He’s back in his boxers and had one of his shirts for you to wear. You blush taking it with a small “Thank you.”

Once you’ve sat up and slipped on the shirt you notice the wet spot staining the couch. “Shit… sorry about your couch Satoru. I’ll give you the money to replace it.”

Gojo laughs at your concern for his couch. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart.” He moves you both over to a the other side of the couch that isn’t ruined. “No really i’ll replace it, how much was it?” He mumbles something that you don’t understand. “What?”

“$3,600.”

You stare at him in shock. “Satoru what the hell!” He dismisses your shock with a wave of his hand and lays you both down. “I told you don’t worry about it. Right now just lay here with me.” Just as you both got comfortable and closed your eyes, your stomach growls loudly.

“I guess now would be a good time to get those sandwiches.” Gojo laughs.

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beyondthesefourwalls · 4 months

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Something Worth Remembering

Summary: You were hopeful that you’d be moved into your new house before Christmas, but after another renovation delay, that’s not in the cards. To your credit, you make the most of the situation, and Bradley falls in love with you even more because of it. But he’s determined to make your first Christmas together special, and sets out to plan a surprise that ensures the holiday will be one both of you will always remember.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

(can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Language. Allusions to smut.

Notes: Some holiday action for my faves. Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "home for the holidays”. Also as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself.

—---

____

Bradley stopped short when he walked through the front door, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him.

“Um…Pumpkin?”

“You’re home!”

You popped up so suddenly from the other side of the counter in the kitchen that he jumped slightly in surprise. “Am I?” he asked slowly, closing the door behind him and bending down to unlace and take off his boots. You laughed brightly as you stepped around some of the shopping bags on the floor to get to him. He accepted the kiss from you eagerly, feeling the stress from another work day dissipate as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Contractors called,” you told him once you pulled back, resting a hand on his chest. Your ring sparkled in the light streaming in through the open curtains, and Bradley couldn’t help but smile before he registered the words. “There’s a delay with the electrician and the flooring.”

Bradley groaned, the familiar annoyance of hearing the word “delay” coursing through him. The home the two of you had purchased was a fixer upper, tucked into the end of a cul de sac in a neighborhood not too far from base. There was work that needed to be done to make it everything you wanted, but neither of you had anticipated all the headaches that would come along with that. It would be a long project, you knew, but the contractor you had hired had promised it would at least be livable within the first few weeks.

That had been nearly two months ago now, and the delays kept piling up. Barely anything had been done at this point, and he knew he’d have to call the administrative office tomorrow to extend the lease on the on-base apartment, again.

“Of course there is.”

You smiled gently, and Bradley couldn’t help but let some of the annoyance slip away at the soft look on your face. He took a deep breath and let himself relax, pressing a kiss to your forehead before releasing you. He gestured to the tiny apartment the Navy had provided you with, smaller than the shoebox you had called home back in DC, that definitely did not look like what it did when he left for work this morning.

“Is that why it suddenly looks like Christmas threw up in here?”

You threw your head back as you giggled. The sound caused a full blown smile to cross Bradley’s face, warming him from the inside out.

“I was holding out hope that we would be able to spend Christmas in our new house, even if it’s not finished. But since the electrician’s are delayed, the floor people can’t come until the 28th. So I decided to finally cave and decorate here instead. But I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on nice decorations, because I want to save that for when we’re completely moved in next year.”

“So…”

“So I may or may not have bought out a good portion of the Dollar Tree Christmas aisle, and spent way too long deciding on white lights or multicolored lights for the $20 table top tree that I bought.”

Bradley laughed loudly, looking around your temporary home once again. Red and green and gold covered the minimal available surfaces, and a small lopsided tree sat on the corner table in the living room, a bag of what he assumed to be decorations sitting beside it. Your cat, Florry, was curled up on top of a pile of bright green garland on the floor.

"Who needs a fancy new house when we can have our own little tacky winter wonderland right here?"

Your eyes sparkled with delight as you spoke, clearly thrilled by the idea, or at least incredibly amused by it. Bradley knew that Christmas was your favorite holiday, and how much you loved the festive season. This would be the first one you ever spent together. When you had toured the house months ago, you had pointed out the perfect place for a tree and where certain decorations could go. You had been so excited to spend the holiday in your new home. As the delays started coming in you had adjusted just how grandiose your plans would be, but you had taken it in stride. Now you were only six days out from Christmas itself and you were once again just making the best of the situation that neither of you could control.

Not for the first time, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.

"Alright, Pumpkin," he said, "Let me go change, and then I’ll help you make this the tackiest, most magical Christmas ever."

You grinned at him, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Challenge accepted."

_____

The Dagger Squad had an impromptu and unofficial holiday party the next night at the Hard Deck, and it still blew Bradley away seeing you intermixed so perfectly with his friends, both old and new. You floated from conversation to conversation and when he wasn’t by your side, he watched you with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for him, but seeing you fitting in like this just reaffirmed it.

“How’s the house coming along?”

He looked over at Mav as he leant against the bar beside him, handing him a fresh beer. He was still getting used to being around his godfather after all this time, but they had settled into a peaceful kind of hesitancy as they relearned what it meant to be in the other’s life, and it was nice, even if Bradley had to remind himself to breathe sometimes.

“Slowly.”

His tone must have relayed how he was feeling because Mav shot him a sympathetic wince. “Another delay?”

“Yup.” Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “They can’t get the electricians in until tomorrow, which is when the flooring was supposed to go in. So now that got pushed to after Christmas”

Mav clasped a hand on Bradley's shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. "It'll all come together eventually. How’s she taking it?”

He snorted as he brought the drink to his lips, taking another sip. “She handles stress and shit like this better than anyone I know.”

Mav smiled, nodding in what looked like approval. “You got yourself a good one.”

Bradley hummed his agreement and let his eyes stray to you, chuckling softly when he saw you dancing with Nat. Sometime in the last few minutes, you had stolen the Santa hat that Coyote had arrived with, the red and white material perched on your head. You twirled around with his best friend to the Christmas song playing over the jukebox, laughing merrily. You really did love this time of year.

You had told him that you didn’t care where you spent the holiday, so long as you were together. It was your first Christmas together, after all. But Bradley still felt guilty over not being able to get you into the house sooner. You had only been married for a few months, and you had given up your whole entire life to move out to California when he got permanently assigned here. It’s a decision you would make again and again, he knew, but he still wished there was something he could do, too. You had made far more sacrifices than he had. He wanted this holiday to be special. Memorable.

You were just a little bit tipsy when you got back to the apartment that night. You had clung to Bradley’s arm with both of yours the whole way up to the third floor from the parking lot, but the moment you walk through the door, you’re releasing him to go plug in the tiny table top tree. You plug in the string lights lining the kitchen counters next, humming a christmas song he can’t quite place under your breath as you do. You turned to him once the space was illuminated, the soft golden glow highlighting your smile.

“Pretty nice, huh? These cheap decorations aren’t so bad - I may just keep them for the new house, too.”

Your ability to make the most of everything made his heart stutter. He was in front of you in only three quick strides, one hand landing on your hip while the other cupped your face. He bent to connect your lips in a kiss. He could still taste the peppermint from the candy cane you sucked on on the ride home, and the taste of the champagne Penny had broken out at the end of the night for a toast. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, both of you getting so lost in it that by the time he pulled away, he was panting.

“You must really like the cheap decor,” you breathed, and Bradley huffed out a laugh at your joke.

“I just really like you,” he quipped, and he enjoyed how a shiver went through your body at his response.

As you changed into pajamas and settled on the couch together, an idea started forming in his head. He thought he might know just what to do to make this holiday memorable for you after all.

_____

“Are you sure you don’t mind me running out for a bit?” you asked for what was probably the tenth time as you slid your sweater on over your head. Bradley groaned to himself as your body was covered from his view as he lounged in bed. He had been watching you get ready, enjoying not for the first time how getting dressed was almost always the last step in your process.

“I’m positive,” he said, also for the tenth time. You gave him a dubious look and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Pumpkin, I promise it’s okay.”

“I know, but it’s our first Christmas Eve together!”

Bradley moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his arms open. You stepped between his spread legs and let your hands rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you, squeezing your sides through your red sweater. “Technically, it’s Christmas Eve morning. And I think you getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife will be nice for you. You’ve been so busy with work and the move that you haven’t really had time to make friends.”

“I was already friends with Nat.”

He rolled his eyes at you fondly. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed again, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head in the way that always calmed him down, even when he wasn’t feeling stressed out. He thought maybe the motion soothed you, too. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah,” you admitted slowly, nodding hesitantly. “I do too.”

“Then go. Have fun. I’ll be here when you get back, and we’ll spend Christmas Eve together. The morning doesn’t count.”

You snorted, but nodded nonetheless. He accepted the kiss you gave him right as your phone started ringing from the bedside table. Nat was there to pick you up, just like he had requested her to when he asked for her help with pulling off this surprise by getting you out of the apartment for a few hours today.

He gave it ten minutes after you had left before he jumped up and started taking down all of the decorations you had strewn throughout the apartment. It was easy work considering how small the place was, only taking him a few trips to and from the Bronco. He grabbed the small tree last, carrying it delicately so that none of the ornaments fell off and wouldn’t have to be reconstructed.

It didn’t take too long to get to the house at the end of the cul de sac that was now in both of your names, traffic light despite the holiday. He let himself in with the key that was still shiny with how new it was. He let out a sigh of relief when he flipped the switch and the overhead light in the living room actually turned on - with everything that had gone on, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it hadn’t. He made quick work of bringing in everything from the car, including the items that he had purchased and kept in the trunk without you seeing them this week.

He knew he had limited time, as Nat could only commit to a few hours of keeping you distracted, but it would be more than enough with what he needed to do. His phone buzzed right as he was finishing up a little more than an hour later, your name flashing up at him.

Pumpkin🧡: Getting the check! Back soon❤️

He sent back a response telling you he’d see you soon, quickly finishing up. He locked the door behind him and jogged to the Bronco parked in the driveway, and he was only back at the apartment for less than 10 minutes when you walked in the door with a large smile on your face that quickly morphed into horrified confusion.

“What happened to our decorations?”

“Hey, Pumpkin. How was brunch?”

“Were we robbed?”

Bradley barked out a laugh, shaking his head at your wide eyes. “Of our dollar tree Christmas decorations?”

You just gestured wildly around the space, devoid of any hint of the holiday cheer that had existed in its space earlier in the day. He laughed again, closing the distance to where you stood at the still open front door. He reached around you to push it closed before pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips, pursued in an adorable pout. “We weren’t robbed,” he assured you. “But I do have a present for you. Go get changed.”

“What?”

He squeezed your hips, smiling warmly. “Trust me?”

You eyed him closely for a moment before your pout eventually settled into a soft grin, and you let out a long sigh before you nodded. “Always.”

He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, but pulled away before he could get totally lost in it. “Pajamas are on the bed.”

“Pajamas? It’s 2pm!”

He only chuckled in response, playfully smacking your butt when you started walking back toward the bedroom. “Trust me.”

You got even more suspicious when you emerged from the bedroom and saw that he had Florry in her carrier at the door and had changed into his own pajamas. He twirled his keys around his fingers and then held open the door for you. Once you were in the Bronco, cat meowing at your feet, he held out a red silk piece of cloth that made your eyebrows shoot up.

“Seriously? A blindfold?”

“Think of it like a Christmas adventure. Now let me put it on.”

You huffed a breath but he knew you weren't actually mad - you loved surprises, and there was a smile tugging at your lips as you turned to allow him to tie the silk at the back of your head. He kissed your hair when he was done and turned to start the vehicle.

“You know,” you said casually, just as Bradley was pulling out of the parking lot, “this blindfold might come in handy later. We should make sure the headboard we pick out has appropriate accommodations.”

He groaned at the implication, a flush creeping up his neck on instinct. You giggled happily, knowing the effect you had on him. He rested a hand on your thigh as he drove, yours covering his in a familiar move. The feeling of your ring on his skin was one he had grown to love in the last few months since you’ve gotten married.

You threw out guesses the entire drive over, each one more extravagant and ludicrous than the one before. By the time he pulled into the driveway that one day will be an everyday occurrence, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt.

“Don’t move,” he said when he saw you reach for the door handle. He jogged around the Bronco to the passenger side, opening your door. He helped you down before reaching back in for Florry’s carrier, pressing it into your hands so you could carry her, while he focused on you.

"Alright, Pumpkin," he whispered, his voice laced with eagerness. "Keep your blindfold on, and I'll guide you." His hand tightened around yours as he led you out of the car and towards the front door of your new home. Excitement coursed through him as he thought about your reaction, and he loved that he knew instinctively that it would be positive.

He loved that he knew you so well.

“Stay here just a second,” he instructed once he got you through the door. He moved away from you to quickly plug everything in, coming back to you once the room was cast both in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the artificial LED lights.

He stood in front of you, a grin playing on his lips as he watched you fidget with anticipation. Your blindfold was still securely in place, blocking your vision from the surprise he had prepared. You were so damn beautiful, and he would never understand how he got lucky enough to call himself yours.

"Okay, baby," he said softly. He gently took the carrier out of your hands, setting it on the floor and letting the cat out to wander the new space that he had cleared of anything that might hurt her, before moving to stand behind you. Your back flush against his front, he moved his hands up your arms in a smooth caress, settling on your shoulders and squeezing in affection. "You can take off the blindfold now."

With trembling hands, you reached up and slipped the silk cloth from your eyes, revealing the scene before you. Gasping in awe, your eyes widened as you took in the sight that unfolded in the living room.

“Oh my God. Bradley.”

The room was still very much a construction zone, but he had moved all of the decorations from the apartment, plus a few more that he had gotten, to decorate the barren space. The tree you had bought sat on the floor in the corner. Blankets lined the unfinished floors, as well as humongous cotton puffs to replicate snow. An air mattress covered with bright red sheets and a green blanket was in the middle of the room. Everything looked straight out of a tacky high school Christmas play, but it was so bad that it was almost good - whimsical and unique.

He watched as you took it all in, feeling his heart beating double time in his chest. When you turned to face him, there was a wide smile on your face, and tears shining in your pretty eyes. You didn’t have to ask for him to know what you were thinking.

“I wanted our first Christmas together to be in our home, even if it’s not finished yet. I figured we could camp out for the day. You-” The words were knocked out of him as you launched yourself into his arms. He held you for a long moment, pressing a kiss into your hair as your laughter settled. “You deserve something special, Pumpkin,” he finally finished, voice softer than it had been.

You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “All I need is you, baby. You know that?”

He turned his head just slightly to press a kiss into your palm, nodding once. “I do.” A smirk twitched at his lips, his mustache twitching with the expression. “Does that mean you want me to pack all this up and return your gifts, too?”

The gasp you let out was damn near scandalized. "Oh, no you don't!" you playfully swatted at his chest. You motioned toward the tacky decorations with a mischievous grin. "We can't let these go to waste. It's our first Christmas, after all."

Bradley chuckled, arms secure around you. "It sure is," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of anticipation lingering.

“Besides,” you murmured quietly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar look that had him warming from the inside out. “This gives us a jump start on christening the place. That air mattress looks mighty comfortable.”

Desire flared through him, and he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the makeshift bed. Your laughter echoed in the space as he laid you down.

“You know I’m gonna make you pack all of this back up and put it back up in the apartment until at least New Years, right?” you asked him, slightly breathless as he moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, nipping at the skin.

Bradley chuckled, his hands pushing your shirt up, revealing soft skin that he loved to touch. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”

Later, you lay nestled together underneath the green blanket, the crackling sound of a virtual fireplace playing from his laptop on the floor beside you while Christmas music played lightly from your phone. You were basking in the glow of the makeshift display as your breathing calmed. You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart. He was sure that it skipped a beat at the gesture, but if you noticed, you didn’t comment on it.

“I can’t wait until we’re in here for good,” you whispered instead.

He hummed in response, tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. “Me too.”

You snorted after another moment, propping your head up to meet his eyes. “Hell of a first memory to make here, don’t you think?”

Bradley laughed lightly, a contented smile spreading across his face. It certainly was, in all of the best ways. “I’ll remember this forever,” he said, voice filled with warmth and conviction, because he couldn’t fathom ever forgetting any moment with you, especially something as perfect as this.

--------------

Main Masterlist :: The Forgotten Moments Masterlist

Notes: It's been far too long since I wrote anything for these two. I hope you enjoyed it! Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated if you did🧡

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help!

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fraugwinska · 4 days

Note

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

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reareaotaku · 3 months

Note

headcanons for trevor spengler from ghostbusters??

Hmm... I've never personally seen that movie, but I'm pretty sure I know what/who you're talking about

Not good with jokes. He tries to tell you some and they always land flat [But that might have to do more with him not knowing how to act around you because of his crush]

He lied about his name when you made a joke about how silly the name 'Trevor' was when Phoebe was telling you about the guy she met named Trevor

He gets really awkward around you and stutters over his words

Will come to your job when he knows you're working and be surprised when you're there

"Oh my god, Y/n? You work here? Wow, what a coincidence." [Elbows Phoebe when she almost calls him out on the lie]

"Uh, yeah. My dad owns the restaurant" [He already knew that, but still acts surprised]

Grade A stalker

Phoebe called him out on it and he tells her to shut up or he won't drive her anywhere [She quickly shuts up] [She's a little bit of a stalker herself, but she'd never admit it]

He lied to you about his age, because he freaked out and didn't want you to think he's some loser

Though, you do find out how old he really is when he gets arrested

"Why'd you lie about your age?"

You were more confused than angry about being lied too

"I freaked out"

You're still confused, but you decide not to push it any further

"You know, if you needed a ride, you could of asked. I would have given you a ride."

"You have a car?"

"And a license. Plus an up-to-date registration"

"I've never seen you driving a car-" [How could he not know you drive and have a car?? ]

You blush, looking away from him, because you're kind of embarrassed. "Well... I mean, it's, uh... It's a fixer upper kind of car-"

"So, it's a piece of shit." [He hadn't meant to be rude, it just kind of came out.]

You chuckle, "I prefer fixer upper, but yeah... Kind of. It's a '98 Honda Accord. It's really good on miles." [ You then start to ramble, trying to justify the car, because you felt kind of offended by his comment]

"Yeah!" He interrupts you mid rant, causing you to stop and look at him confused and he continues, "I mean- Yeah, if I need a ride, I'll call you"

"Good. It'd make me feel better knowing you're safe."

He's losing his mind when you say that. You care about his safety??? God, his face is probably red as a tomato

Grows a mustache to try and impress you; Saying he's a 'man'

You just think it's funny and he quickly shaves it

#trevor spengler #ghostbusters #ghostbusters: afterlife #trevor spengler x reader #yandere trevor #yandere trevor spengler #yandere trevor spengler x reader #yandere x reader #yandere horror #yandere imagines #yandere ghostbusters x reader #yandere ghostbusters #ghostbusters x reader

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reve-writes · 1 year

Text

—fixer upper. | alice in borderland chishiya shuntarō x reader.

you were shot. he helped you not bleed out to death. | set in s2 beginning of king of spades.

CHISHIYA WAS CUNNING AND SELF-PRESERVING. While it would've slightly hurt your feelings if he had left you, it would be very much in-character of him.

He cussed when the first spray of bullets was fired, finding cover. You cussed seconds later, leaning against a pillar, your hand hovering over a fresh bullet wound just above your hip bone.

"Fuck," you repeatedly said, trying to stay calm despite the adrenaline pumping through you. You needed to think of the different ways you could get to safety, away from the gun-crazed maniac.

"Can you move?" Chishiya asked, noticing the blooming blood on your jacket.

You closed your eyes, the pain was starting to sink in. "You go. I'll wait for the shooter to walk past and make a run for it."

He said nothing and for a terrible second, you thought you were actually alone. Having been in the Beach for quite a while, you weren't used to isolation. Your eyes shot open when you felt someone grab your hand.

"Can you walk?" He asked again, slinging your arm over his shoulders.

You stare at him blankly for a second. He asked again, with an annoyed click of his tongue. "Can you walk or not?"

"I can try," you answered, hobbling along the sidewalk with the silver-haired man. You hissed and cursed every time he pulled or pushed you swiftly to take cover.

"You're regretting it, huh? Should've left me," you teased, watching him as he frowned with effort.

"Stop talking and move faster."

Finally, he ducked under an apothecary, pulling you inside with him, waddling as far away from the doors and windows as possible. You hid behind the cash register counter while gunshots rang over and over again outside. Until, eventually the sound got quieter and disappeared.

Chishiya peeked over the counter. Still quiet. He gingerly stood up and walked quietly over around the counter.

"I have the shittiest luck," you complained. "Can't even die from the shot. Now I have to sit here and bleed to death in pain."

"On the contrary, I think your luck is keeping you alive," he replied, shuffling about between the shelves.

You shrugged, not that Chishiya could see it. "Maybe I'm lucky to be stuck with you then."

It was silent for a second and two and five.

"Are you—"

You interrupted him, "Because you're a med student! I didn't mean to make it weird."

"You remembered," he said, putting a handful of supplies next to you. Gauze, anesthetic, antiseptics. Sat facing you, Chishiya put on a pair of latex gloves.

"Take off your jacket."

"Huh?"

Still as expressionless as ever, he tugged on the bottom hem of your jacket. "Off."

You slid down the zipper awkwardly. Chishiya was completely professional while dressing your wound. You were staring at him, shamelessly, as his blood-slicked hand pressed against your torso.

Were his lashes always this long?

Chishiya knew he should have left you. Your plan most likely would have worked, assuming the shooter was trying to rack up as many victims as they could, you would've been safe hiding until they walked past.

However, seeing the blood slicking your clothes, he could feel himself tensing. He couldn't leave this to a probability. A dozen different scenarios went through his head—all of them with you, dead. At that moment, his caution was thrown in the wind. You couldn't die. Not there, not then.

He was so used to having you around him that the thought of you dying never really crossed his mind. Would he simply go on? Would he grieve? He didn't want to dwell on the thought. This was the one thing he didn't mind not knowing—what he would do after you.

"You'll be fine," Chishiya said finally, security the bandage around your torso. "Rest up."

"I'm fine now," you said stubbornly. You tried to push yourself off of the ground, but the room spun around you. You fell, lying down on the floor with your hand on your eyes, groaning.

"You lost a lot of blood. Get some rest."

When you woke up much later, there were a fresh, clean jacket, a bottle of water, and a couple cans of food by your side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

[ ]

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader

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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months

Note

how do you think the zoldyck family would react seeing how killua and (name) act with each other in fixer upper?

like him calling her mom, etc

This is actually a pretty helpful question, because they will be meeting with his family in the future!

Silva: sees this as an opportunity to use you to bring Killua home. when you don’t accept his gifts and money in exchange for convincing killua to come home, he gets a little pissed.

Kikyo: Oh she loathes you. Her precious baby is calling you mom, clinging to you for comfort!? If Silva would allow it, you would be dead already

Zeno: He’s one of the more normal people, and sees you a kind and nurturing person. He knows that killua loves you dearly, and would break if you were to get hurt

Illumi: at first, he is similar to Silva in seeing you as a way to bring Killua home. He asks you out on a date to try and woo you. If he has your heart, he’ll also have killua in the palm of his hand. But… you’re kind. He sees how much you genuinely love and care for Killua and… it makes him feel a certain way. He’s never seen someone care for another in such a way. Illumi thinks he’s fallen in love at first, and follows you around for a bit, but he actually sees you as a mother figure

Kalluto: Honestly he’s a bit jealous of Killua. He wants that same motherly love, to have someone protect and nurture him. Maybe in the future you’re able to do just that for him!

Milluki: thinks you’re attractive, but doesn’t really care much besides that

Alluka: you’re like her big sister! she always clings to you when she visits, tugging on your sleeve and giggling as she clings to you!

#fixer upper kurapika x reader #x reader #anime x reader #headcanon #requests open #reader insert #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #hxh illumi #smut requests #hunter x hunter x reader #illumi zoldyck #alluka zoldyck #killua hxh #silva hcs #Kikyo hxh #zeno hxh #kalluto zoldyck #milluki zoldyck

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lewmagoo · 5 months

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try a little tenderness | rhett abbott

description: in which you take care of each other in different ways

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, slight angst, very brief mention of religious trauma, rhett's childhood trauma, smut, dom/sub undertones, rhett is a switch, mention of kink play, oral (m receiving), deep throating, cum swallowing

notes: just a self-indulgent little somethin'-somethin' with some holiday vibes to go along with it. hope y'all enjoy

You were barely holding it together.

The rain that poured from the dreary sky seemed to encapsulate your mood as you made your way home from work that evening. It was mid-November, and the weather was just beginning to make its shift into winter.

On your little homestead, you and your husband had been battening down the hatches, preparing the house and the surrounding property for the onslaught of frigid temperatures and snow storms that were sure to blow in over the next few weeks.

Wyoming winters were long and hard. But somehow, you didn’t mind them that much. Not when you had your little farmhouse to snuggle into on days when the weather got bad. You’d moved into the house when you and Rhett had first gotten married. Although it was a house that had been in your family for years, it was a fixer-upper, and everyone had told you that you were wasting your money. But the two of you were determined to make a home out of it. And you had. It was a safe haven for both of you.

And now, you were running to it, seeking refuge in its warmth, and in the comfort of your husband’s arms, because he was what made it a home.

They say home is where the heart is. He was your heart.

He was so much steadier than you were. At the moment, you felt incredibly fragile. As if a gust of cold wind would shatter you into millions of tiny pieces and leave Rhett to have to pick up those pieces and painstakingly glue you back together.

You’d been trying, but failing, to hold in your tears the entire thirty-minute drive home. You couldn’t even bring yourself to turn on your driving playlist to occupy the silence, you were simply too overwhelmed and needed the peace and quiet.

All you could think about was how deeply you longed to be in Rhett’s comforting embrace. He was the only one who could console you when you were like this. And he loved being that for you. Knowing he was your source of comfort above all others made him feel special. It made him feel needed.

It was him you depended on. Him you allowed to see you at your most vulnerable. He cherished those moments. Even though it pained him to see you suffering, it brought him some semblance of peace to know that he was providing you comfort.

He knew that things had been difficult for you as of late. You were at a crossroads in your life, forced to make some hard decisions that had been weighing heavily on you. You’d spent countless hours agonizing over them.

Sometimes, it felt as if your only easy choice in life had been choosing to marry Rhett. You’d known beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. He was good. He was kind. And he loved you. Did he come with his fair share of struggles? Absolutely. But that was what made him human. All the things he had been through had shaped him into the perfect man for you.

You had both gone through hell to get to each other. Your souls were bonded together, forged in the fires of great tribulation. But you were stronger together because of it.

You had built a life together. One of peace and security, far away from those who had wronged you. Rhett had distanced himself from his family. He only kept in contact with his mother and his niece.

Gone were the days of walking on eggshells, trying to avoid knock-down drag-out arguments with his brother. He didn’t have to use that sort of caution with you, because you never treated him that way. He’d learned how to communicate his feelings, rather than fight about them. There were never screaming matches within the walls of your home. Never a raised voice. Never a harmful hand laid upon the other.

It was a place of solace. And that was why you were running to it.

As you pulled into the driveway, the rain gave way as the first flakes of November snow began to swirl from the sky. Normally, you would stop to admire them, but you hardly even noticed the white flurries as you pulled into the carport next to the house.

Your eyes were blurring with hot tears, and all you wanted was to get inside, to find Rhett and fall into his arms. But as you climbed out of the car, the strap of your bag got caught on the gearshift. You didn’t notice until it was too late, and in a very dramatic turn of events, the force of the catch was enough to send you stumbling. On the way down, your ribs clashed with the bottom edge of your car, sending sharp pain blossoming through your torso.

You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathed through the ache. Meanwhile, Rhett was inside the house, having just seen the flash of your headlights in the window, signaling that you’d arrived home. Eagerly, he headed to the kitchen, with the intent of making dinner, because it was his night to do so. He was making grilled cheese, the one thing he had finally mastered in the kitchen, and he wanted it to be nice and hot for you, so he’d waited until that moment to begin preparing dinner.

But as he set to work, he noticed that it was taking you a while to come inside. Curious, he glanced out the window that overlooked the carport, and to his surprise, he saw you on the ground next to your car.

His jovial mood dissipated, replaced with concern. Without hesitation, he hurried to the door, where he shoved his feet into his worn, old boots and then wrenched the door open.

“Darlin’?” He called out, as he stepped outside, boots crunching on gravel. Quickly, he rounded your car, which gave him a full view of you crumpled on the ground, crying. Immediately, he was rushing to your aid. “What happened?! Are y’alright?”

He knelt beside you, wide-eyed, searching your body for any signs of outward harm. His protective instincts had kicked in.

“I-I fell,” you managed to whimper out. Honestly, it wasn’t even the fact that you’d fallen that kept you on the ground. It was the fact that you were entirely depleted of physical and emotional strength, and once you’d hit the ground, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand back up.

“Are ya hurt?” That was his biggest concern. He’d drive you to the hospital if he had to.

Your bottom lip wobbled as a fresh wave of tears poured down your weather-cooled cheeks. “A-a little,” came your response. You knew that your ribs were going to bruise.

“Hospital hurt?”

“No.”

Rhett nodded, relaxing a little. “Alright. I’ll help ya up. Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”

Lovingly, he helped you to your feet, securing his arm around your waist, and grabbing your bag from the car before he led you into the house. The warmth washed over you immediately. You hadn’t realized how cold you were, but the slight tingle in your fingertips told you that you had certainly gotten a chill from outside.

Rhett closed the door behind you, effectively shutting out the cold. You stood there in the entryway, unmoving as you felt another wave of tears overcome you. Your husband hadn’t noticed yet, as he was taking off his boots, but when he stood up, he saw you frozen in place.

“What’s the matter, pun’kin?” He asked. His pronunciation of pumpkin, the sweet nickname he’d given you years ago when you were still dating.

His gentle concern was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Immediately, you turned, surging forward into his arms. It caught him by surprise, but he quickly recovered, wrapping you up in his embrace. You melted into a fit of sobs, burying your face against his broad chest.

“Hey now, I’ve got’ya. Ain’t never gonna let you go.”

His assurance only made you cry harder. You loved him so much. He was so good to you.

His hand, large and warm, came up to cradle the back of your head, and he slowly rocked from side to side, soothing you with a quiet “shh” as he let you cry. He didn’t inundate you with questions, although he did want to know what had you weeping so brokenly in his arms. It made his heart ache.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there in the entryway. It could’ve been a few minutes. It could’ve been a whole hour. But the comfort his embrace brought you was welcome. It calmed you down considerably.

After a while, you finally pulled back, lifting your face from his now tear-soaked shirt. His expression was soft, his lashes fluttering as he lifted his hand to dry what was left of your tears.

“Somebody make you cry?” He asked. He’d give them what-for if they had.

“I-it’s just…oh, it’s everything,” you whimpered. “Work sucked today, I felt like I was in fuckin’ purgatory. I don’t…I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

Rhett sighed softly. Seeing you in pain made him feel so powerless. While he knew that he was providing you comfort, he still wished he could take all the hurt away. You didn’t deserve any of it. “I’m sorry.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead.

And then, “Let me take care of ya. ‘ve already got dinner started. How does a bath sound? I’ll get ya set up and then finish dinner so you can eat.”

“Good,” you whispered, as if you couldn’t find the strength to speak louder.

With a nod, Rhett set to work. “C’mon, let’s get you out of all these layers.”

He began carefully undoing your coat, which he removed from your body and promptly hung on the little coat rack by the door. Then he pulled your hat off your head and placed it on the pegboard that also housed different sets of keys.

He guided you to sit down on the bench near the shoe organizer, and there, he knelt before you, unlacing your boots. You watched him so tenderly, so reverently, care for you, and again, you felt yourself welling up with tears.

You hadn’t retained much from the time you’d spent growing up in church, aside from some trauma and a distaste for religion. But one Bible verse in particular popped into your head as you watched your husband remove your shoes. Most men will proclaim every one his own goodness: But a faithful man who can find?

Rhett never asked for anything. He never bragged about himself or his accomplishments. He was good and kind. A little rough around the edges, but he treated you like royalty, and respected you deeply. He was faithful to you, and to the homestead you had built together. He didn’t wander. He didn’t seek intimacy in the arms of another. He was anchored to you, for better or worse.

And now he was guiding you up the stairs and to the bedroom, his arm secure around your waist, part of him always touching you. Grounding you. He guided you to sit on the bed, leaving a kiss against the top of your head before he sauntered over to the dresser to choose some pajamas for you.

You were in a haze, brought on by the rush of emotions you had experienced. Sleepy from crying, frazzled from your stress. You were lucky that Rhett was there to help you, because you felt so pathetic and incapable of caring for yourself in this state. You could manage alone if you had to, but you didn’t have to. As long as your husband was around, you’d never have to worry about being alone.

“You want to wear these, or these?” He asked, holding up a set of Christmas pajamas that were your own, and a pair of sweatpants and one of his Henleys.

Of course, you chose the sweats and his shirt, because you wanted to be entirely surrounded by everything that was him.

With your pajamas picked out, he guided you to the bathroom, where he had you sit upon the closed toilet seat while he began filling the tub, making sure the water was the perfect temperature. In the process, he grabbed the little space heater you kept in the bedroom, and he set it up in the corner of the bathroom, to warm up the cold tiles so you wouldn’t catch a chill.

You smiled fondly at his attentiveness. “I love you,” you spoke.

He paused, his face softening, his eyes fluttering. “And I love you, pun’kin.” He kissed the top of your head before he motioned for you to stand. There, he began undressing you, and you allowed him to, because you didn’t have the energy to do it yourself.

After the bath was filled, and the bubbles were in, he guided you into the water. “I’m gonna’ go finish makin’ us dinner, alright?”

But you frowned at that. “No, wan’ you to get in with me.”

“And I’d love to get in with ya, but you haven’t eaten anything since your lunch break, right?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Since 11:30 actually.”

“Uh-huh, exactly. That’s why I’m feedin’ you dinner. Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ my baby starve.” Another kiss was left upon your head. “Just relax and enjoy your bath. I’ll be back in a few to help ya get dressed. Then we can eat.”

That piqued your interest. “Can we watch a holiday movie?” You asked.

He hummed, a twinkle in his eye. “‘course we can, sweet thing.”

As he turned to leave, you spoke up. “Hey, Rhett?”

In the doorway, he turned. “Hm?”

“Thank you for takin’ care of me.”

He shook his head. “That ain’t somethin’ you need to thank me for. Carin’ for you is my job, and I’m always gonna do it.”

What a man he was. Once he left the room, you found yourself reflecting upon how blessed you were to have him. When you’d first met him, he was a broken man with so much love to give, but no one to bestow it upon, except for his niece. But she wasn’t his child, so he found himself holding back, because even though he didn’t agree with the way his brother parented her, he didn’t want to overstep.

Of course, he would’ve made a better father to Amy than Perry ever could. But that was neither here nor there. Now, Rhett barely spoke to his brother. For his own well-being, he’d cut ties with Royal and Perry. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he was better now because of it.

There were behaviors he’d worked hard to unlearn after he entered into a relationship with you. Trouble communicating and processing his emotions was the most glaring issue. Those first few years together were no picnic. You had argued often. All you asked for was for him to be open and honest with you. He bucked against it like an untamed horse. The thought of being exposed and vulnerable in that way terrified him.

He didn’t want you to see the wounded, ugly parts of him. Didn’t want you to see him cry, because his father had drilled into his head that showing emotion was feminine. Men don’t cry, he’d tell his son. It was simply because he didn’t want to deal with Rhett’s emotional nature.

Rhett, who had always been a sensitive soul, learned to hide that sensitivity early on. Don’t cry, for fear of being told “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about.”

In recent years, since Amy was born, Royal had softened a bit. But he was still just as hard on his youngest son. Rhett was the workhorse. The dependable one. The one who would grit his teeth and get the job done without complaining.

And God forbid if he tried to complain. Royal wasn’t one for physical violence, it just wasn’t in his nature. But when Rhett was seventeen years old, he’d gotten fed up with the verbal lashing from his father. It was the first time he’d really tried to stand up for himself and tell Royal to shove it, in not-so-delicate terms. But it hadn’t ended well. Royal had backhanded Rhett so hard he saw stars, and ended up with a bloody lip.

The man had felt bad about his reaction, but the thing about Royal Abbott was, he didn’t apologize. It wasn’t in his nature. Rhett couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever heard ‘I’m sorry’ come out of his father’s mouth.

That moment was what made Rhett realize he couldn’t stay in such a toxic environment. He longed to leave the confines of the Abbott Ranch behind and pave his own way. But that was easier said than done. A sense of responsibility to his family kept him chained down to Wabang. He seemed to be destined to spend the rest of his days as a bull rider, living in his father’s shadow, busting his ass and receiving nothing in return.

And then he met you.

You made him believe there was more to life. You made him believe he could chase his dreams and achieve them. You made him believe in himself.

He had learned so much from you. And through you, he had found freedom. You were the first person, aside from Amy, who’d ever truly believed in him. And here he’d spend the better part of ten years pining after a girl named Maria, who had never and would never return his affection

He remembered being so glad when she returned to town after being at college for the last few years. He thought maybe things would be different. Maybe she would see him for who he was and finally reciprocate his feelings.

But all she’d done was string him along and make him feel like shit for never leaving Wabang. In the end, she lost any interest she might’ve had in Rhett, leaving him dejected.

And then you showed up. You were new in town. Your grandparents had just bought a new house in Florida, but still had yet to successfully sell their ranch. While they transitioned to a new house in a new state, they asked you if you would be willing to stay at their place until it sold. Dissatisfied with your current job and living situation, you agreed.

Soon, you found yourself in an unfamiliar town in Wyoming, the last place you ever thought you’d be. You got a job through Amelia Elementary School, teaching piano. One of your students was Amy Abbott, and this was how you met her uncle, Rhett.

You should have known it from the second you saw him. He appeared rough and tumble, but when he introduced himself to you, his eyes, bright and blue, were soft, and you swore you saw the hint of a blush in the apples of his cheeks.

That was what did you in. There was a softness to him that tugged on your heartstrings. You had Amy twice a week for lessons. Rhett picked her up each time, and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him.

Over the course of the next few months, he swallowed his fear of rejection and worked up the courage to ask you to go for coffee. Rhett wasn’t a fan of the fancy lattes and whatnot that Two Horns Coffee sold in downtown Wabang, but he’d noticed you often had a coffee cup from the place in hand, and he wanted to take you somewhere you liked.

That was how he found himself seated in a quaint little cafe that totally wasn’t his style, in favor of getting to know you. That day, you talked for hours, until the coffee shop employees were shooing you out because it was closing time. And after that, you walked through the town and continued talking.

Rhett wasn’t loud or boisterous or pompous. He was quiet and gentle. He was shy, which surprised you. He seemed so confident, but really, it was all a front. Everyone perceived him a certain way. He was the promiscuous bull rider with a new buckle bunny in his bed every night.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He admitted to you that he hadn’t slept with anyone since Maria a few months ago, and before her, the last time anyone had been in his bed was the night of his 21st birthday. Some girl he barely knew.

His family’s perception of his promiscuity stemmed from that instance, where Royal had caught the girl sneaking off early in the morning. Since then, Rhett hadn’t been able to live it down. In the minds of his family, he was the man-whoring problem child.

Rhett never bothered to correct them, because what was the use?

But when you looked at him, you saw him. The real him. Shy and slightly awkward. Fidgety, unable to sit still. Kind and loving. Determined.

He liked that. He felt seen and heard with you. He never felt like a burden. And because of this, he found himself drawn to you more and more. Soon enough, a romance blossomed between you. While it had its ups and downs, there was no doubt in each other’s minds that this was it. You were bonded for the rest of your lives.

Your wedding came not long after. An intimate occasion with your closest friends and family. A beautiful ceremony in the mountains. After that, you moved into the home you’d been staying in since you moved to Wabang. As it turned out, your grandparents’ little ranch never sold, which left you and Rhett to move into it.

You offered to pay in full for it, but your grandparents wouldn’t hear of it, insisting it was your wedding gift. The house did, however, need a lot of renovations, and that was where a lot of your money went.

Since then, you had turned the house into everything you’d always dreamed of, and you’d started a wholesome life within its walls.

Here Rhett was, thinking he needed to leave Wabang. But in reality, it wasn’t his hometown that he needed to distance himself from. Miraculously, his mental well-being increased tenfold when he escaped from beneath Royal’s thumb and started living his own life.

And that was the thing of it, too. Rhett had a purpose here, on your little ranch. He could cultivate that intrinsic need to take care of things. He could take care of the land. He could take care of the animals. The only animals you had were your horse, Marabel, and Rhett’s horse, Esmeralda. But he had hopes of one day opening a horse sanctuary on your land.

That was his dream. Not professional bull riding, like he’d spent so long trying to convince himself of. He loved horses, and wanted to do everything he could to help the animals that had always meant so much to him.

He was working toward making that dream a reality. And someday soon, it would be.

It was amazing to see the difference in him, since he’d started chasing after what he loved. He was no longer a man chained down to a life he didn’t want. He’d found a sense of freedom, and now, he was happier than he’d ever been.

Yes, he had you to thank for it. But really, the determination to live a better life came from him. You were simply the one that lit the fire beneath him. Now he was a roaring flame, burning brighter than the sun.

You were so proud of how far he’d come. And he was proud of himself, too. He had every right to be.

He’d taken his ranch expertise and found a job at a horse ranch just outside of town. This allowed him to continuously be around the animals that he loved, while also making money. The owner was quite well off, and was paying Rhett handsomely.

For the first time in his life, he was making a steady income, and he could provide for not only himself, but for you as well. You had your own job, and could hold your own, of course. But Rhett liked knowing he could take care of you. And you appreciated it. Coming from a family who’d never uttered so much as a thank you for all he did, it was refreshing to have someone express their unending gratitude for his care.

Something as simple as making you grilled cheese for dinner made his heart soar, because after a difficult day, you were depending on him to care and provide for you. And he’d be damned if he was going to let you fend for yourself.

Watching you struggle had been hard for him. He hated seeing you in such a state of unrest. The changing of the seasons didn’t help, either. You were always hit with a bad wave of seasonal depression as soon as the clocks fell back. The early darkness made you sad.

So Rhett did all he could to help you bear that burden. And tonight, he was determined to help you feel better. While you enjoyed your bath, he set to work finishing up dinner preparations. A little while later, with sandwiches at the ready and the living room set up with blankets and pillows, he rejoined you in the bathroom.

“Hey, pun’kin. Y’ready?” He asked.

You smiled sleepily at him. “Mhm.”

So, he began the process of helping you out of the tub. He toweled you off, and then reverently smoothed your favorite lotion onto your skin. You were in a state of bliss as his large, but gentle, hands traveled over your body. He aided you in changing into your pajamas, and then he pulled a pair of cozy socks onto your feet.

“C’mon now, let’s go eat ‘fore it gets cold.”

With that, he bent to shut off the space heater before he guided you out of the bathroom and down the stairs. When you walked into the living room, you couldn’t help but smile. He’d spread multiple blankets and pillows across the couch, creating a soft, cozy resting place. The fireplace was roaring, the low lights were on, and when you glanced at the window, you saw the snow was now falling in white sheets, making you feel as if you were inside a snow globe.

“Oh, this is perfect,” you whispered.

Rhett beamed. “Go on, have a seat. I’ll get ya a drink. What do you want? Coke Zero? Some sweet tea?”

“Tea, please!” You quickly replied. One of the things Rhett could make besides grilled cheese was a mean sweet tea. Not too sweet, with just enough tea flavor that it wasn’t overpowering. It was your favorite.

“Comin’ right up, chickadee.”

As you settled into the soft blankets on the couch, Rhett hurried to grab drinks for both of you. Soon, he was rejoining you, presenting you with a glass of tea, complete with a straw. You thanked him, and he smiled before he set about selecting a holiday movie. The 1947 version of Miracle on 34th Street was his choice, and soon, you were cuddled up together as the opening credits rolled, enjoying your dinner of grilled cheese.

And just for a little while, things didn’t seem so bad. The harsh reality of life was dulled if only for a time, softened by the sweet delicateness of this moment shared between you.

After you finished your food, you curled into Rhett’s side, your head on his shoulder. Content, he rested his cheek atop your head. You knew it was inevitable that he’d fall asleep. With a full tummy, and a cozy couch beneath him, he was sure to doze off. Rhett liked to stay busy, so during moments when he wasn’t, such as sitting down to watch a movie, he would almost always fall asleep. Years of being a workin’ man will do that to a body.

He expected you to fall asleep, too. You’d had such a difficult day, and he was fully prepared to spend the rest of the night asleep on the couch with you.

However, you were still wide awake as the movie neared the ending. Instead of drowsiness, you were filled with immense gratefulness. Rhett had come home from a long day of working in the cold, and had prepared you dinner and ran you a bath, simply because you’d had a bad day. He didn’t have to do such things, but he wanted to.

He didn’t expect you to turn cartwheels and thank him in some dramatic way, but as you lay curled against him, you were struck with an idea. Albeit a mischievous one.

You shifted, moving to glance at him. He was barely awake, his big, round eyes droopy. But then you began to nuzzle against him, kissing his jaw lightly. At first, he didn’t think anything of it. But then, one of your hands worked its way beneath the hem of his shirt, rubbing at the skin there.

“Your hands are wanderin’,” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“I know,” you replied with a smile.

“What’re you doin’, girl?” He continued as your hand went toward his chest.

“Can’t I touch my man?”

“Sure y’can. But with you there’s always some ulterior motive. Little tease.”

He let out the softest of surprised squeaks when you tweaked his nipples, feeling them harden beneath your touch. “Not teasing. Just exploring.” Your lips attached to his jaw again, where you kissed and nipped at the scruffy skin.

He began to melt beneath you, always a sucker for your loving touch. Your wandering hand trailed down his abdomen, and stopped just above the waistband of his plaid lounge pants.

“Darlin’…” he warned, as your fingers swirled through the light dusting of hair that led down into his pants.

“What?” Deft fingers traveled beneath the band of elastic. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which pleased you greatly, and gave you easy access. You brushed against the base of his cock, gripping onto it purposefully. He sucked in a breath, his hips jolting.

“Just wanted to thank you,” you hummed against his neck. “Always take such good care of me. Thought I’d take care of you.”

You stroked him once. Twice. Palm running over silky skin. You longed to feel him grow in your hand. It was so erotic to you. Holding that thick, beautiful cock of his while it swelled to full hardness.

“Wanna see it,” you spoke again.

Rhett lifted his hips off the couch and haphazardly pushed his pants down toward his thighs. That was all you needed. His lower half was exposed, just enough for you to free him from the confines. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you languidly ran your hand up and down, resting your head on his chest as you watched him harden.

God, you wanted to worship him. So that was what you did.

You turned, moving to trail kisses down his smooth chest, stopping to leave a kiss against the raised scar that sat upon his shoulder. An unfortunate accident with a bull some years back.

Then you went lower, lower, lower. Hands exploring, lips traveling. Soon, you were kneeling between his strong thighs, gazing up at him. You tugged his pants the rest of the way down, discarding them entirely so you could have uninhibited access.

“S’pretty,” you hummed, as you admired him. It took him a moment to realize you were talking about his cock. His cheeks turned a shade of pink. But his bashfulness was soon forgotten when you leaned forward and began kissing along the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, offering tentative kitten licks as you went.

He watched as you rubbed your cheek against him, nuzzling him as you kissed at his sensitive balls. You wanted to take a moment to truly appreciate what was before you. Standing tall and proud, something Rhett had every right to boast about if he wanted.

But he didn’t. And that was where you came in, talking him up because you loved the way it rendered him speechless and blushing.

“So big, I don’t know how it even fits inside me,” you mused. And it was the truth. But he was careful when he fucked you, never wanting to hurt you. Of course, that didn’t mean he was gentle. He had his gentle moments when you needed them, but he also had his moments where he fucked you within an inch of your life. You loved the balance. And you loved that he was mindful of what your body could handle. He’d never push you past your limits. Getting you to safeword was not the end goal. He wanted you to be able to enjoy intense scenes, without being pushed too far to the point where it took you out of the moment.

Together, you had built a steady trust in each other, with boundaries put in place. Even in the midst of those scenes, you felt safe with Rhett. Protected. Even in the throes of intense passion, he was still looking out for you.

But sometimes, something simple was all you needed. Like now, for instance. Lazily mouthing at his dick, relishing in the sharp saltiness on your tongue, and the deep muskiness that could only be described as Rhett. There was something so manly about it, and it sent a needy ache thrumming through your core.

Meanwhile, Rhett was blissed out above you, torn between admiring you between his legs, and letting his head fall back against the couch as he relished in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. Sinful and heavenly all at once.

After spending time kissing and licking at him, you finally moved to focus on his tip, blushed and glimmering in the low light. Eyes flickering up to meet his hooded gaze, you parted your lips and very slowly began to swirl your tongue around him. Making a show of it, you focused your attention on the slit, tongue flicking back and forth until you were rewarded with a bead of precum, which you eagerly lapped up.

“Oh, oh darlin’,” he breathed, hands gripping at the blankets beneath him. “You an’ that mouth of yours.”

You hummed around him, closing your lips around the tip and suckling softly before you began inching your way down. Being able to deep-throat him had taken practice. You remembered the way he reacted when you first took all of him. Unbeknownst to him, you’d been using a toy that was roughly the same size as him, training your throat to be able to take him.

Now you could take him like a champ, and it drove him wild.

Slowly, slowly, you took more of him, relaxing your throat, until your nose was pressed against the gathering of dark hair around the base. He kept himself neatly groomed, but left just enough behind because he knew how much you loved it.

“‘at’s it, atta girl,” he graveled, fighting the urge to place his hand atop your head and hold you in place. But he would soon quickly lose that air of dominance to you.

You swallowed around him, which stole the air from his lungs, before you pulled back, kissing at the tip, wet with your spit. As you took a moment to catch your breath, you brought a hand up to toy with his heavy balls.

“Ha!” He gasped, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Sensitive?” You asked.

“Uh-huh,” he answered. “Ain’t had ‘em played with in a while.”

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, mouth still against the soft skin of his cock. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I? Haven’t played with these big sensitive balls. Haven’t milked the cum out of them in so long.”

“F-fuck!” You’d taken him all the way to the hilt again without warning.

It was true. It had been a while. It had been a crazy few weeks for both of you, and you hadn’t had time to really enjoy each other in the way that you wanted. A few quickies here and there hadn’t satisfied that burning desire you held for one another.

Rhett didn’t like getting off without you. Sometimes, he would, if he was ever out of town or vice versa. But he much preferred being with you. He craved you. Fantasized about you. Wanted only you. His hand didn’t cut it. Your mouth and pussy were what he wanted.

And oh, how good your mouth was. You knew exactly how to pleasure him. Knew he loved when you swirled your tongue against the underside of his tip, where he was most sensitive. Knew he couldn’t get enough of your hands on his balls while you took him down your throat. Knew he loved when you rubbed your face all over his dick.

When you pulled your mouth off of him again, you rubbed the tip all over your lips, kissing softly, humming against him. Then you went back to tonguing the underside, and he gasped sharply, hips jolting.

You took that opportunity to close your mouth around him and let him slide naturally to the back of your throat again. You used your other hand to massage down his shaft as you pulled back up, never leaving him without a moment of stimulation.

“Y’ keep doin’ that and I won’t last,” he warned.

“That’s the idea,” you replied with a smile.

He moaned softly, letting his head fall back as you swallowed around him. This time, you stayed down longer, gulping as you did, and the sound drove him wild. You were drooling all over him, pulling out all the stops to bring him to the edge.

And it was working. He was so pent up, and you both knew he wasn’t going to last. He’d begun to tremble, his thighs shaking at either side of your head. His hands clenched and unclenched around the blankets he held. His hips had begun to move of their own volition.

“You’re squirming,” you teased.

“Ca-can’t help it,” he stammered. “Your—fuck—your mouth is so g— ah!”

He couldn’t even get the words out. You kept pressing your tongue against that damn spot, knowing it would get him all worked up. He was losing his coherence the longer it went on. Mumbled half phrases, with gasps and whines mixed in. It was so easy to work him up like this. He was always so responsive.

Interestingly enough, he hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning, he’d been more reserved. He was shy about the sounds he made. Ashamed of his whines and whimpers. He was holding back, and you could tell. So, little by little, you encouraged him to be more vocal.

“Wanna hear you. Wanna know it feels good for you,” you’d told him, and he hadn’t really thought of it that way. As much as he loved hearing you and knowing he was making you feel good, he realized you also wanted the same thing from him.

It took him a little while to feel confident enough to freely make those sounds of pleasure, but once he finally got past that hurdle, you couldn’t shut him up if you tried. Not that you wanted to, either.

There was something about this man of few words being unable to remain silent that really got to you. You’d expected him to be all gravelly grunts and groans. And he was. But he whimpered, too. A lot. Especially when you got him feeling really good.

He was so easy to rile up. Whether he was assuming the dominant or submissive role, or just simply making love to you with no kinky games involved. Get him close to orgasm, and sounds would pour from his throat uncontrollably.

Like now, for instance. He was so beautiful this way. His whole body trembling, his eyes rolling back, his mouth open to let out unsteady gasps. You loved how you could reduce him to such a state. This strong, steady man, who’d just so tenderly taken care of you, was now trying to hold it together so he wouldn’t come too soon.

But you wanted it. “Nuh-uh, don’t you hold back,” you told him.

He took a shuddering breath. “Honey…”

“C’mon,” you coaxed, wrapping your fingers around him and stroking quickly. “Know you wanna come in my mouth, wanna watch me swallow all of it.”

And oh, he did. One thing about Rhett was that he loved watching you take his cum. Whether it be smeared across your pretty face, painted onto your chest, dripping out of your pussy, or in your mouth.

Right now, you wanted it in your mouth. And you were determined to get it. Keeping your tongue right against his tip, you tightened your grip on him only slightly, moving your hand with purpose. Your other hand was at his balls again, massaging in time with the hand on his shaft.

His eyes swam with unshed tears, and he gritted his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose. Warmth was beginning to crackle to life at the base of his spine, as if you’d just lit a fuse.

You pulled out all the stops, taking him to the hilt again before you resumed that pleasurable torture against his tip. Alternating back and forth, bringing him closer and closer and closer to the edge, watching through hooded eyes as he lost himself, chest heaving, body trembling.

“C-close,” he gasped.

“Come down my throat,” you urged, before you placed his cock against your tongue, stroking hard and fast as you brought him toward his end.

Rhett gazed down at you, and you caught his eye, your face pleading as you eagerly awaited his load. He could barely take the sight, and he threw his head back, groaning deeply. “F-fuck, darlin’, I’m—”

And then he whined. Keening high in his chest, his hips shunted forward. You could feel him pulse beneath your touch, and in an instant, you closed your mouth around him, creating a seal so that nothing would escape. You took all he had to give, swallowing every last drop of his seed like the good girl you were, all while he gasped and whined and softly sobbed above you.

As he came down, he twitched in your mouth, the sensitivity mounting. He hissed as you pulled off his cock, sucking any remnants of cum from his skin before you released the softening shaft. You pressed a gently kiss to the tip before you innocently looked up at him.

Breathlessly, he swore. “Get up here,” he murmured, and you smiled, climbing up into his lap. He searched for your lips, and you kissed him, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Mm, nearly sucked m’ soul outta me,” he teased.

“That was the idea,” you said with a giggle.

He leaned in to kiss you again. His eyes were droopy, sleepiness evident in his features. “Should return the favor,” he continued when he broke the kiss, but you shook your head.

“Uh-uh, that was my way of thanking you for taking care of me. We’re even.”

“But I wan’...” he paused to yawn, “wan’ make you feel good, too.”

“Tomorrow,” you promised. “For now, let’s just rest.” Another kiss was pressed to his lips before you reluctantly slid off him to retrieve his pants from the floor. You had just enough time to pull them onto his body before he had fallen asleep.

Lovingly, you brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead before you settled down beside him, pulling the blanket over you both. “I love you, cowboy,” you whispered, as you nestled yourself against his side. How grateful you were for him. This good and kind man was all yours. You silently thanked the universe for giving him to you.

And sure enough, the next morning, you woke to his head between your thighs, sending you to a place of absolute, unadulterated bliss.

Yes, you were thankful for him indeed.

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#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fic

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zbis · 2 months

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☆.｡.:*summary : your boyfriend comes home bruised and bloody yet again

☆.｡.:*pairing : boxer!gunwook x reader

☆.｡.:*warnings & other : blood, mentions of fighting, a bit of angst if you squint(?), fluff, not revised

☆.｡.:*w/c : ~1k

“stupid fucking-” gunwook groans out loud. “such a lucky hit, i swear...” he taps his finger on the marble surface of the kitchen island contemplatively. “i was just distracted,” he tells himself.

he places his head on the counter, mulling over the loss of the night. god, if only he did a left hook instead of the right.

“ow..” he lifts head up and looks down, noticing his forehead wound has opened back up and has left a blood stain on the counter. “shit,” he mumbles. just as he’s about to go grab a towel to clean it up, you emerge from your room.

“you’re back?” you yawn, your hair looking just a dishealved as his.

he clears his throat, diverting his gaze awkwardly from your exposed torso when you stretch. “yeah..” he mumbles. you laugh at how red his ears get until you notice the forehead wound among many others. you see his blood stained cheeks and eye that's just asking to get swollen if untreated. “gunwook what the fuck?” you scold him. “i-” you cut him off when you notice the stain he left on the counter. “and you’re leaving your blood everywhere!”

he scoffs, “ i was just about to clean that up..” he sighs, “im not really in the mood for this right now..” just then do you notice the way his eyes are downturned and his usual bubbly self is nowhere to be found.

“did you-”

you dont finish your sentence because the way hes carrying himself tells you everything already. “oh wook..” you walk up to him and cup his face gently, although he still winces at the touch. “it’s just one loss you know?” he sighs, “i was gonna use the money to take you out or something, we haven't done anything fun in months.”

“i dont care about that, you’ve done alot for me already plus i dont want you to die while making me happy.”

you dont even need to ask questions to know. gunwook typically never fought past his range. he would only go against people whom he knew he had a good chance against. however, every saturday there was an event where the fighters of the area could go against one of the strongest fighters in the city. the cash prize was good but what was even better was the reputation that came with it and your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to have it.

you were supportive but for the past 4 months, every Saturday without fail, gunwook would come home beat to a pulp. you tried to get him to give up but he was determined to win one day, he just had to get stronger.

you sigh, looking over his face. his lips were more swollen than normal and some strands of his dark hair were crisp with blood. “can you just-” “of course.” you cut him off. you place a chaste kiss on his lips, which he hisses in pain at and you laugh.

you silently lead him to the bathrooom where you keep a first aid kit on deck. you grunt as you pick up the heavy box, refusing to let gunwook help you. “just sit your ass down.” when he does you give him a once over.

he looks like a stray puppy who’d just been abandoned at the side of the road. you let out an exasperated sigh at his appearance, “you know, im not a licensed nurse. you need to go to the hospital one of these days.” he plays with his fingers while you get the kit ready for use.

“why would i do that when i have my own personal fixer upper right here?” he jabs at your side playfully. “ow, it hurts when you do it.” you glare at him with an annoyed but light smile.

“too strong.”

“not strong enough apparently,” he mumbles, once again reminded of yet another saturday loss. “well,” you take place on his lap with a cotton pad wet with alcohol in hand. instinctively he moves his hand to your waist to keep you steady. “you’re strong enough to keep me safe,” you whisper.

before he can protest or say anything demeaning about himself you place the cotton on the cut closest to his eye. he hisses in pain and glares at you. “be gentler,” he mumbles. you hum, moving the piece of cotton across whatever cut or gash you came across, making sure to change it whenever it got too saturated with blood.

“seriously though...you need to be more careful wook,” you place a kiss on the cut you just cleaned and place a bandaid over that. “my biggest fear is getting a call about a wound I won’t be able to fix.”

he nods solemnly, placing his patched up face on your shoulder. you sigh, choosing to play with his hair to soothe his stress and sadness.

after a couple beats of silence, he suddenly pips up.

"but next saturday i've definitely got it in the bag!"

#zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #drabble #gunwook imagines #zb1 headcanons #gunwook headcanons #gunwook fluff #mtl zb1 #zb1 fluff #gunwook x reader #send asks im new im excited to write for zb1!

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drabblesandimagines · 6 months

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Home

Leon Kennedy x female reader I just wanted to write some damsel in distress nonsense with Death Island Leon, but imagine whoever you like! Fluff - though mentions of blood, smatter of death.

Coming to, you feel as if you’re hungover - disorientated, nauseous and a sore head - but that can’t be right, you didn’t drink last night.

It takes a moment to localize the throbbing pain only to the side of your head rather than all over and, as you catch sight of blood smeared against the white tiles of the kitchen floor – something you were desperate to change as white shows up everything - you remember.

You’d been working in the home office. Leon had set it up for himself originally – you’d never been brave enough to research what the price of the beautiful mahogany desk must’ve been, but you’re always sure to use a coaster to avoid marking it. He used a laptop, so he’d insisted you utilize the space instead for your desktop when you moved in over a year ago. It was a nice house, on a quiet, suburban street – he’d bought it as a fixer-upper, a bit of a passion project. The rooms were all in various states of completion but he wanted your opinion and input.

“This is our home,” he’d stressed, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Plus, you’ll be here more than me…”

You’d heard of the conspiracy theories surrounding the Raccoon City incident. Who hadn’t stumbled down that rabbit hole before? Leon had confirmed it in vague, half-told recollections of the night a few months into your relationship after an argument about his commitment issues, and you hadn’t pressed further than that since. He told you the bare minimum so you were aware of what his work now entailed, why he had to go away for weeks at a time, why he was so desperate to keep his work and personal life separate for your safety and protection.

He accompanied you when he could to family and friends’ celebrations, charmed them all into forgiving him for his flaky appearances, but they could all see how happy you were since the two of you had got together.

You’d been wearing noise-cancelling headphones as you worked to drown out the next door neighbour’s relentless building works that had started on Monday – a basement leak meant the foundations were being fixed and the noise was horrendous - and had gone to the kitchen to make an ill-advised afternoon coffee and…

Nothing.

Well, the building works have stopped which is a positive, but that doesn’t negate the blood on the floor and your thudding head.

“Mrs Kennedy, I presume.” A man, well-dressed in an awful tight-fitting suit kneels down in front of you. He doesn’t look familiar - blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, a bit of stubble, looking tired, mid-40s, you guessed. You’re confused by the way he’s addressed you – you’re not married, there’s no ring there - and he clocks the bemused expression at once. “Or perhaps you’re his whore, waiting for him to return to your little love nest, hm?”

There’s no good answer or witty comeback so you keep silent, instead trying to raise your hand to feel your head, gage how bad it is – head wounds bleed a lot, you knew that much – but your arm doesn’t comply. Your gaze finds the plastic of the zip-tie cutting into your wrist, holding it snugly against the arm of the chair you’re now seated in - dragged in from the dining room.

“Ah, yes.” He cups your chin, tilting your face back towards him in an effort to get you to focus on him. “A necessary measure. I need you to play the damsel in distress.”

“Leon’s not here,” you reply, quietly, words feeling thick on your tongue though it’s not a lie. “He’s away with work - I don’t know when he’s going to be back.”

“Oh, he’s due home very soon. I couldn’t make such a pretty thing wait for days on end.” He lets go of your chin only to place his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You try to jerk away from his touch but find your ankles have received the same treatment as your wrists, though tethered together as if to stop you standing.

“I apologize about your head,” he stands up then, a smug look on his face as he towers over you. “I did tell my men to be gentle, but it appears one misunderstood.”

You shuffle in the chair in a pitiful attempt of relieving the pressure on your wrists. “Who are you?”

He clucks his tongue. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Kennedy’s ETA is four minutes, sir.” A gruff voice states from behind you.

“Excellent.” Your captor smiles. “I suppose he was hoping to surprise you with his arrival, hm? Nice that we can turn the surprise around on him.” He snaps his fingers at one of his subordinates, “You can gag her now.”

A hand yanks your hair, forcing your head back and you gasp only for a wad of fabric to be stuffed behind your teeth. You try and push it out with your tongue on instinct but another bit of fabric is forced between your lips, keeping it snugly in place as it’s knotted at the back of your head, causing you to whimper – or at least attempt - when he brushes up against your head wound.

There’s a hive of activity around you – the three grunts getting into position, checking their ammo. They can’t just plan to shoot Leon outright, surely. Why would he need a damsel otherwise? Your captor grabs the back of your chair and drags it, positioning it in line with the hallway door, meaning that you will be the first thing he sees. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes.

“Showtime.”

Your heart is pounding so loud it’s all you can now hear – maybe it’s so loud Leon will hear with that incredibly sensitive hearing he has before he opens the door, know something’s wrong and get the hell out of here.

No such luck, though. The building work next door hasn’t resumed, so you can hear him cut the engine in the driveway, hear when the Jeep door opens and closes, hear the jingle of his keys in the door. He has his eyes cast down when he enters, immediately turning to the lock the door behind him out of both security and habit.

“Sweetpea?” He sounds upbeat, happy as he calls for you and it breaks your heart all the more when he turns, eyes meeting yours. “Fuck.” He breathes out, taking a hurried step forward, hand automatically reaching for his pistol still holstered on his belt. A loud click pierces through your left ear, cold metal prods into the side of your temple and Leon freezes in place.

“Uh-uh, Kennedy. Unless you wanna see your lovely lady’s brains splattered all over the floor, I’d drop that right now.”

Leon doesn’t hesitate, holding his hands above his head and dropping the pistol to the ground, hitting the wooden floorboards with a thunk.

“Keep those hands up and kick it over.”

Leon complies, kicking the pistol so it skids down the hallway, swiftly collected by one of the grunts.

“Dante.”

“Oh, I’m flattered you remember little ol’ me. Come - join us.” The gun leaves your temple but the fear remains as Leon slowly strides up the hallway, hands still in the air. “Pull Kennedy up a chair and make sure he’s comfortable.” A grunt ducks into the dining room and emerges with one the armless chairs, placing it down heavily on the kitchen tile as Leon enters. He’s swiftly smacked across the face with the butt of a gun, followed up by a punch to the stomach, causing him to double over. Another grunt grabs his arms, yanking them behind his back and you know by the way his biceps tense that he could break out of that hold easily enough, but he’s choosing not to.

You feel horrible that you’re the reason why he’s not.

He’s pushed down onto the chair and his wrists are quickly secured behind his back with a zip tie through the wooden slats. He lifts his head up to reveal a bloodied lip, but his eyes are immediately on you as he speaks.

“She has nothing to do with me and you, Dante.”

“Oh, I know that.” He scoffs, digging his fingernails into your shoulder once more. “But your little sweetpea is so useful in making sure that you remain on your very best behaviour.”

“You’ve got me now, okay?” Leon shrugs his shoulders in demonstration. “Let her go.”

“Aw,” Dante tuts. “Did you think you had her out of harm’s way, Kennedy? Kept your personal life underwraps? Granted I couldn’t quite confirm her name, but here we are all the same. Pretty little thing – shame she had to get wrapped up with you.”

“What do you want?” You can tell Leon’s annoyed, though he keeps his voice measured.

“The Apollo files.”

Leon raises an eyebrow, scoffing. “I don’t ha- Ugh!” The grunt in front of him had pistol-whipped him once more, his nose now bleeding a little in consequence.

“Next time you tell a lie, your woman is going to get the same treatment.” You grip the armrests in apprehension and Leon once again tenses as he notes your discomfort.

“Okay, okay! They’re in the attic. One of the storage boxes up there – there’s not many. Against the south wall.”

“Good boy.” Dante chuckles, ruffling his hand through the agent’s hair condescendingly. “You two - with me,” he points at two of his men, before turning to the third. “You, keep an eye on the lovebirds.”

“Be careful where you step up there – I haven’t put in a permanent floor. Been busy.” Leon retorts.

“Aw, boys, he’s worried we’ll hurt ourselves.” He grabs Leon by the chin then, squeezing his cheeks. “We’ll be right back. I wouldn’t want to keep this lovely lady waiting any more than she has to.”

He shoves Leon’s face to the side and heads out to the hallway, the two grunts following as the third remains in position to the side, gun in hand.

“I’m so sorry, sweetpea, but I’ll get you out of this – I swear.“ Leon says softly, turning his head to the side to look at you. “Okay?”

You nod – there’s little else you can do – but you know you’re shaking. You hate yourself for doubting him, but you can’t see how the two of you are getting out of this in one piece. He doesn’t say anything more, his eyes flitting from one direction to another as he calculates his moves for what feels like hours.

The building work next door resumes – a loud drilling echoing around the kitchen. The grunt winces at the sound and Leon gets to his feet, arms still bound around the dining chair and headbutts him, sending him stumbling back, blood gushing from a broken nose. Leon spins then, slamming the chair against the marble countertops, splintering the wood and releasing himself from the chair. He then jumps again, tucking his legs impressively close to his chin, though letting out a strangled grunt and his bound hands are now in front of him. He lifts up his knee, tenses his biceps and slams it down, the zip-tie splintering across the floor – all in the time it takes the grunt to come to his senses and aims his gun blindly, sending bullets thankfully in every direction but yours.

Leon ducks and dives, swiftly grabbing the grunt around the neck with an arm and holding it tight, cutting off his air supply until he goes limp in his arms and he grabs hold of the man’s gun, quickly checking the cartridge with one smooth downward motion.

A bullet sails over his shoulder as one of the grunts returns from upstairs and Leon quickly takes him out with a headshot. You divert your eyes then, not wanting to see. It’s them or you – you know that – but it doesn’t make the act easier to witness.

It is barely a second before another gunshot rings out, followed by a second - Dante and the remaining man at the kitchen doorway, though the grunt goes down as quickly as he entered due to Leon’s return fire.

Dante’s face is furious, his gun aimed squarely at your head and he pulls the trigger. Leon sidesweeps the chair legs from under you, sending the chair toppling backwards and you with it, your head smacking once more against the tile and making your ears ring and vision dance with black. The bullet soars over your head and into the kitchen cabinet.

There’s another gunshot, a horrible, squelching sound, and then a series of grunts and groans – flesh on flesh – but you can’t look up, can’t see what’s going on as a succession of gunshots ring out and there’s the sound of a body hitting the floor.

There’s the clatter of a drawer being opened frantically and then, suddenly, Leon is above you – his shoulder bloody – and a knife in his hand. He lifts your head up gently, cutting through the back of the gag and pulls it away from your mouth, fishing out the fabric that had been making you feel close to choking.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” He says softly as you catch your breath, taking glorious mouthfuls of air. “Stay still, okay? I’ll get these off you.” He presses the blade against your wrist with a careful flick and you’re released from the first of your restraints. He makes quick work of your other wrist and the ones around your ankles, pulling you up into his arms, cradling you in his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, rocking you back and forth. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Leon, it’s-”

“Don’t say it’s okay. It’s not okay. I promised to never get you mixed up in this. I don’t know how they found this place, how they found you. I’ve been so fucking careful, baby.” His voice breaks, along with your heart.

“I know you have.” You try and soothe. “It’s not fair, but it’s not your fault, sweetheart. I love you.”

He presses his lips to yours then, kissing you softly. “Love you too – so much. Feel so selfish.”

“Uh-uh, no – you deserve to be happy. I want to make you happy.”

“You do, sweetpea, but-“

“If I can’t say it’s okay, you can’t go down this road either and we both can’t pout about it.”

He sniffs, rolls his eyes and you finally remember the blood patch on his shoulder.

“Did you get shot?” He shakes his head. “Grazed me. I’m fine. You, however, need a full check-up.”

“If I’m having one, you’re having one too. We can have a date to the emergency room.”

He laughs – it’s nice to hear, to see the smile reaching his eyes. “I owe you a much better date than that.”

“Nah – maybe they’ll put you in a hospital gown.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“What?” You bite your lip.

“The ones that don’t tie at the back?”

“Oh, don’t they? Interesting.”

He kisses you again then, with a bit more passion than before. “Baby, you do not have to get me in a hospital gown to see my ass.”

“Who said anything about seeing your ass? Get your head out the gutter, Mr Kennedy.”

Leon rolls his eyes once more, getting to his feet with ease with you still in his arms. He pushes your face into his chest as he walks towards the front door.

“Leon, no, you need to rest your shoulder. Put me down - I can walk.”

“Don’t want you to see.” He murmurs. “I’m gonna get you in the Jeep, call work quickly – they’ll come sort this mess – then straight to the hospital.”

You keep quiet then, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent as you nuzzle your head against his chest, a realisation hitting you.

“We won’t be coming back here, will we?”

He pauses, fiddling with the keys in lock.

“I’m sorry. I know you were finally feeling at home here and-”

“No.” You cut him off. “Home is us together – wherever. Okay?”

“Yeah.” He opens the door. “You’re right. Home is with you, sweetpea.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

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#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 months

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Take it right there

Jake ‘Hangman ‘ Seresin x You

This was written for #leahsgalentinesdayspecial (put on by @ohtobeleah thank you!)

Song: Like a Wrecking Ball by Eric Church

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, unprotected p in v, talks of spanking, masturbation, teasing…I think that’s it, let me know if missed anything!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

They say the first year of marriage is the hardest. This is true for you and Jake, but not for the reasons one may think.

Living together wasn’t the problem; you’d shared an apartment for 18 months before he proposed. It wasn’t combining and sharing finances either; you each contribute fairly and spend wisely.

The hardest part is that Jake has been deployed for 3 and a half months out of your 4-month marriage.

The wedding had been perfect; it was everything you dreamed of. The honeymoon was even better. Just thinking about what the two of you got up to in your room, the private pool, the cabana at the beach, the cramped bathroom of the glass bottom boat…sends a shiver down your spine and an echoing heat between your thighs.

But just a short week after you got back, Jake was called out with no ETA given. You had just gotten the keys to the fixer-upper you bought and weren’t even all the way moved in when Jake got the call that Sunday morning.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Sweetheart?”

“Please don’t tell me that was Simpson and you’re getting called out. Please?” You whine, dropping the paintbrush you’re holding back in the tray.

“How’d you know?” He asks, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“I could hear it wasn’t good by your voice,” you murmur, leaning into him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to go either. I’ve got some good news though. We don’t leave until Tuesday morning and Simpson gave me and the rest of the squad off until then. They’re already on their way over to help us get the rest of the house cleaned up and painted so we can get everything else moved in and set up before I’m gone,” he murmurs against your neck before trailing up to your ear.

“No, they don’t have to do that, I’m sure they’ve got other things to-oh,” you sigh as he nips your earlobe and presses his hard-on into your short-clad bottom.

“I didn’t even have to ask, sweetheart. Roo was texting the group chat before I even got off the phone,” he assures you.

“But-“ you protest but he interrupts.

“No ‘buts’ about it, Mrs. Seresin. They’re already on their way. Now shush or I’ll spank yours before they get here,” he jokingly threatens, patting your butt and stepping away.

“Mhmm, sure,” you tease, calling his bluff.

You smile at his sharp inhale.

“You think I’m kidding?”

You gasp when he grabs your ponytail and pulls you back against him.

“Bend over that step ladder and I’ll show you how serious I am,” he says lowly, sucking a bruise behind your ear before he pushes you toward it.

But you’re saved by the bell; the doorbell that is.

“Oh no, that’s too bad. They’re here,” you smile at him smugly as you turn to answer the front door, but he grabs your wrist with a dark chuckle as you walk past.

“You’re not off the hook that easy, sweetheart. You know what I do to naughty girls. After tonight, you’re gonna think of me every time you sit down for the first few days that I’m gone.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

He wasn’t kidding. But you love pushing his buttons until he does something about it

You cried when he left that Tuesday morning, like every other deployment but this one just hurt more; popping the bubble of your newly wedded bliss.

In the time he was gone, there were a handful of rushed calls, texts here and there, and two video chats; one that was private and so hot, the other in his shared bunk so you keep it appropriate, kind of.

“Hey, sweetheart. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Jake says, eyes widening when he sees you. You’ve got your phone propped up while you’re sitting on the bathroom vanity in just a bathrobe, hair wet around your shoulders. “Just a heads up, Bradshaw’s in here. Whatcha doing up there?”

“Hey baby, just painting my nails. Does that mean I have to behave?” You lift your head to look at him with a smirk.

Jake nods as Bradley shouts, “No! Tease him, honey, make him pay for leaving you!”

You laugh. “Miss you, Roo.”

“Miss you too!”

You tell Jake about your day and then about the work you’ve done around the house, shaking your head when he asks to see it. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“Alright, can’t wait to see it. And you,” Jake sighs.

“I can’t either,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you slide your robe off your shoulders, baring your naked chest. “Any word on how much longer?”

He doesn’t answer, too distracted by you as you spread your legs and dip your fingers between.

“Jake?” You ask again.

He snaps out of it when your fingers stop. “What? No, sorry. Haven’t heard anything yet.”

“Damn. Hopefully not too much longer,” your eyes fall close as you push two fingers in, rubbing your clit with the heel of your palm.

His face flushes red as he watches you quietly bring yourself to orgasm; talking about the new restaurant you want to try, without bringing any attention to what you’re doing.

His expression turns pained when you lick your fingers clean in between telling him about what kitchen cabinets you want.

“5 minute warning guys,” Rooster’s voice filters through the phone.

The warning is nice but the moment is gone.

“Love you, sweetheart, hopefully be home soon.”

“I hope so. Love you too.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

That was 2 weeks ago and you are sick of waiting. Fed up. Finished. Done.

Sighing, you look at your ugly kitchen cabinets and get the perfect idea for your frustration.

You smile as you bring the heavy sledgehammer in from the garage, but just as you’re about to bring it above your head, you hear Jake’s voice.

“Sweetheart?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You drop the sledgehammer to the floor before you run into his open arms.

His back hits the wall when he stumbles back a few steps from the momentum.

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your lips as a picture frame shatters, knocked off the wall by his shoulder.

“You can buy me a new one tomorrow, I just need you to fuck me,” you pull back from his lips to latch onto his neck.

His head hits the wall as you mark up his neck. “Let’s…bedroom?” He pants.

You nod your head and hum in agreement but make no move to climb off him.

He drops you on the bed when he finally reaches the bedroom, unbuttoning his pants as you slip your leggings off and you’re pulling him on top of you before he can kick his off his ankles.

“Wait, I wanna taste you, get you ready,” he protests as you rub the head of his cock through your arousal.

“I’m ready. I’ve been ready for the past 105 days,” you whine, hands each gripping a handful of his ass and pulling him into you.

“Fuckkkkkk,” he groans as he breaches you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“So big,” you whimper when he’s finally all the way in.

“Doing so good, sweetheart,” he pants against your neck, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling out just to push back in, again and again with deep, steady thrusts.

The bed begins to creak as he fucks you at a punishing pace, mingling with the sounds of your shared pleasure.

“More, Jake! Please, I’m so close,” you plead, fingers digging into the thick muscles of his back.

His hips stutter at the bite of pain but he recovers, tilting his hips so that his pubic bone brushes your clit with each stroke.

“C’mon, be my good girl, get there for me,” he begs.

A broken cry rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes into you, triggering Jake’s release. He cums with a low groan, painting your insides white.

A few minutes go by before he lifts his head to press a kiss to your lips. “I love y-oh shit!”

There’s a loud crack and all of a sudden the mattress is on the floor.

Jakes's wide eyes meet yours before you both burst into laughter.

The bedframe broke.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jake helps you get cleaned up before helping you to your feet.

“So, what were you planning on doing with that sledgehammer?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

A/N: I hope y’all like it ☺️🥴

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs.

Tagging those who may be interested:

@mamachasesmayhem

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

@86laura11

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@dempy

@angelbabyyy99

@buckysteveloki-me

@djs8891

@mizzzpink

@daggerspare-standingby

@mrsevans90

#leahs galentines day special #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

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auspicioustidings · 5 months

Text

Fixer Upper

Summary: Request for some fluffy established relationship PricexReaderxSoap for @bunnyreaper (pls be advised I am working through my ask box and the next one is this throuple but horny :D)

Words: 1.3k

“It's a fixer upper love!”

It was the first thing John had said to you when you had emerged from the trees and seen the cottage that was now yours and he was not lying. The place was falling apart.

“Och come on bunny, going tae have tae see the vision!”

Ah, Johnny could always read your face and right now your scepticism must be written all over it. He used bunny when he wanted to wind you up a little. The first time you and the two of them had really sat down and spoken about your relationship, turned it into something formal, he had joked you were their barracks bunny. John had laughed but smacked him upside the head for that.

“Sure thing Sergeant John, let me just get my rose tinted glasses. Now where did I put those things?”

He stuck his tongue out at you. You had your own nickname ready to wind him up. Usually you'd differentiate by calling him Johnny but if he was misbehaving then you differentiated by rank. John always liked that though, even if he did tell you in private all the time how Johnny would definitely make Captain one day and take over the 141 so he could retire and just have fat babies with you.

“Come on love, Captain John will take you through it” John laughed, scooping you up easily into his arms with Johnny rolling his eyes.

“Traitor, bonnie wee bunny bats her eyelashes and it's all Captain John this and Captain John that.”

Still, John placated him by leaning over with you still in his arms and planting a kiss to the side of his head. God you loved when they were soft and tender with one another. Even before you were all together you had loved just watching how they took care of one another. It was a solid sort of affection, the kind that had become instinct to them over conscious effort.

They both fell into an easy rhythm around one another when you crossed the threshold (twice you crossed it because Johnny had watched John carry you like a bride over it and then stolen you to do the same before you were finally put down). John would point out something to be fixed and how to fix it, Johnny would wax poetic about what it would be like when done.

It took you two rooms before you couldn't help but see it, could not resist getting drawn into their warm excitement. You joined in even, arguing with Johnny over where the Christmas tree would go, going on tip toes to give John kisses when he agreed he would teach you how to tile properly so you could help with his vision for the kitchen.

You knew them and you knew they'd want to do it all themselves, but they were away so often and it was so important that when they got home they actually had downtime. Of course they disagreed, but they had come to learn that while on the field they took care of everyone, here in the peaceful warmth of home it was you who took care of them. So they grumbled and sat down with you to go over tradespeople who you could bring in to help. You only had to smack John once when he refused someone on the basis that they had an attractive sounding name and he wasn't about to let their bunny wind up in a porn plot. Honestly it was probably the best you could have hoped for.

–

The soft glow of the lights made your cottage seem like something out of a cosy dream. It had taken time and effort and love but here you were with the perfect home all ready for the holidays.

There was a soft festive tune playing as John danced with you, holding you close with your head tucked into him. Johnny had braved the snow to walk down to the village and post your cards for the rest of their team. Well partially, mostly he was probably going in to say hi to all the old dears so they could fuss over him as always. You and John always teased him for being their favourite, but it was sweet to watch.

“I love you” you sighed against him, no reason for the words really other than knowing it made him smile to hear them.

“I know, everybody loves me, it's the beard I think.”

You laughed and leaned back, giving him a light tap on the nose in chastisement.

“That'll be it John, if you ever shave I'm out of here.”

“I love you too, more than I could ever put into words.”

Sometimes you couldn't believe you were so content, but softly being kissed by one of the men you loved in the home you had made together made everything just feel right.

“I spoke with Kate.”

You tilted your head at him, encouraging him to continue. It was always a struggle to try and not worry whenever he said something like that. Were they getting shipped out again? Was something dangerous coming?

“This is my last Christmas in active duty love” he said, smiling fondly at the tears already forming in your eyes. “Not told Soap yet, but I've recommended him for Captain. Simon is pushing for it too, don't think he'd accept anyone else as his CO.”

You knew it was always what John had wanted, for Johnny to take over. He spoke with you about it sometimes, explained how it would be tricky moving him from Sergeant to Captain, but with the Lieutenant backing him it would work.

It always seemed such a far off thing and now here it was, less than a year away. You were definitely crying, so happy for him and for Johnny and for yourself.

“Let's do a winter wedding.”

“You- you're supposed to propose first!” you half laughed, half sobbed.

He chuckled at the sorry state you found yourself in and smothered your face in kisses as he apologised for going about it all wrong. You heard the door open and turned to see Johnny shaking off the dusting of snow that had settled on him. He took in the situation and grinned, coming barrelling over to crush both you and John in a hug even though he was cold and wet from outside.

“Cannae believe it, ye went and asked her to marry ye without me here didn't ye?”

“Don't worry Soap, you'll get your turn. Got something to ask you later as well.”

Something about the fact it was clear they had discussed marriage before made you sob even harder, ugly crying about how happy it all made you.

“Love you bunny, love you Captain.”

You got to watch a few months later when John finally told Johnny about the promotion, all confirmed with the higher ups. You got to cry all over again when John actually did get down on one knee in the summer, proposing properly. Johnny had proposed not 2 days later.

You did have a winter wedding right in your garden. They bound your hands together in a strip of tartan cloth as you declared that this was forever. Gaz got drunk and wound up giving Farah the raunchiest lap dance you had ever seen. Simon deadpanned that it was allergies anytime someone tried to tease him for crying during the ceremony.

John retired from active duty before Christmas as promised. As Johnny kissed you both goodbye and left to go lead his team to save the world once again he only laughed when you flustered horribly at his parting words.

“Mind and get started on those fat bairnies while I'm gone, cannae wait tae meet them.”

#mhairiwrites #cod #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #soap x price #soap x reader x price #fluff #truly the fluffiest of fluff it's going to give you tooth ache

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bigfootsmom · 6 days

Text

when the bones are good by bigfootsmom for @canonbibuck

bucktommy • gen • 2.4k

“You’ve got me on the edge of my seat, Evan. I’m sure I’ll love it, whatever it is.” He shuffles in close, staring over Buck’s shoulder as he finally gets the door open and reveals the cabinet lying inside. Tommy gasps, and Buck fumbles through an explanation. “I–I saw it and thought of you and uh, how you–you were looking for a table in the—" “The entryway!” Tommy breathes out, excitement clear in his tone. Buck blushes, turning to face him. “Do you like it?” The one where Tommy has a fixer upper and he deserves nice things. Buck wants to give him those things.

read on ao3

#911 fic #911 #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #it's so soft #idk how it turned out so soft but it did #they're very domestic in this one #molly writes #finished

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cinnamoneve · 6 months

Note

What's your opinion about gojo , is he a green flag or red flag or both (when he genuinely date someone or like someone or normally,and why ? give us a detail answer please

nonnie i want to kiss your big beautiful brain ♡ definitely a little bit of both, and of course i'll go into detail ab anything gojo :) thank you for your question !!

𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐯. 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐬

𝐫𝐞�� 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐬 - anything casual

⤷ at his core, gojo is selfish; but that doesn't mean he's incapable of change w the right person!

⤷ if you're in a casual, new, or even friends-with-benefits situation, you simply are not a priority to him. really, you're something to pass the time, get his rocks off, or boost his ego

⤷ he knows this, and he knows it's terrible. he can't dedicate the time or the investment into a relationship if he doesn't see it going anywhere. but he does keep it around to entertain him.

⤷ and if you're not free to keep him busy, well! he's gonna move on to the next. unless he's committed and there's a label, it doesn't exist in his mind ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

⤷ habitual ghoster (sorry). he simply cannot be caught up in any of that, just takes what he wants/needs and slips away

⤷ notoriously can't commit. brushes you off every time. once he's locked down, he is for LIFE but until then he's gonna dodge it every chance he can. gotta stand out to be important to the strongest!

⤷ he's a tough nut to crack and hard to break through to - he's got a lot of walls up underneath his façade to keep anyone out. it's a little bit of a passion project, a little fixer-upper, if you will, but it's all worth it (personally i love the color red and i love fixing people sooo hehe)

buuuuuuuut let's talk about some green flags:

𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐬 - anything committed

⤷ if it's mutual and he's all in, this man is loyal to his core! just wants to be understood and to understand in return

⤷ sappy. once you bridge that gap of understanding, he is ALL IN !! all in. he wants to attach to you at the hip and be with you all the time

⤷ a hopeless romantic as well--didn't think he'd ever find a love like this, so he soaks it all up while he can. leaves you little notes everywhere, spoils you all the time, brings you gifts on every instance he can

⤷ did i mention needs to be attached at the hip? good luck ever showering by yourself or going to the store alone

⤷ surprisingly very good at communicating and listening. can get a little pouty and childish if he's upset, but needs some time to blow over before he can really focus in and listen

⤷ seeps you into every aspect of his life. you're teaching with him, you're taking his students out, you're going to all the school's activities and helping him with anything you can

⤷ protective of you! will work you into every aspect of his life EXCEPT for the dangerous ones. can't go on missions, sorry! can't go out late at night by yourself, sorry! who knows what's out there to hurt you when he can't protect you

⤷ indulges you and spoils you in every way he can. makes his best effort to understand you so he can comfort and love you in the way you deserve. a flip switches when he's committed, and there's nothing he wouldn't do for the one he loves.

tldr; lock him down if you wanna see the best version of him! if not, the walls he puts up are lined with red flags, baby!!

#asks ! ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo x reader #♡ satoru

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gigabyte-flare · 8 months

Text

He Comes Alive (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: As you settle into your new routine working for Leon, one day he decides to take you on a nice hike where the two of you make a gruesome discovery.

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

This part does contain a graphic depiction of an unalived individual. Reader's discretion is advised.

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

While at first you had been nervous about not meeting Leon’s expectations, you find yourself looking forward to getting up each morning to get ready to work at his house. Before you knew it, a couple weeks had gone by, nestled into a nice routine as October rolled in. Like Leon had told you that night at the gas station, he had you painting, cleaning sawdust off the furniture, holding stuff while he took measurements; stuff you could clearly handle. Each day, he’d hand you a $100 bill from his wallet. At first you’d argue that he was paying you too much, you had agreed on $10 an hour, but he’d insist the extra $20 was a bonus for doing such a good job. You found it impossible to make him budge on this, so you stopped arguing with him about it.

A part of you wonders if Leon just wants the company; out in public, he was quiet and usually kept to himself, but when he was working at his house with you? An actual chatterbox. You learn that he is a retired federal agent of some kind, having come back from a mission in Spain and deciding to retire early in a remote, quiet part of the country. He originally wasn’t planning on buying a fixer-upper, but he told you how he fell in love with the scenery up here.

“It’s only going to get better,” you tell him as you’re painting a wall in his kitchen with a paint roller as he works on installing new cabinets, “wait until the leaves start changing. You’ve never seen anything like fall in New England, I promise.”

Then, to your surprise, Leon began to ask about you. You tell him how you had been forced to go to college for accounting and dropped out when you finally couldn’t take it anymore, much to your father’s disapproval. You watch Leon’s face grow serious as you tell him about how hard your father is on you.

“You really need to stand up for yourself, sweetheart,” you must have heard Leon tell you a thousand times now.

“I know,” you reply, “but he just wants what’s best for me. He just has a weird way of showing he cares. I promise he’s not a mean guy.”

You continue to tell Leon about your family until Leon finally interjects, “Not to change the subject, but can I ask you a personal question?”

You stop mid-roll with the paint roller, looking over at him as he finishes installing another cabinet door, “sure. Shoot.”

“Got a boyfriend?”

Your eyes widen, your breath catching in your throat; that certainly wasn’t a question you expected him to ask. Leon must see the look of shock on your face, because he immediately starts apologizing.

“No, no! It’s fine!” you assure him, collecting yourself, “no, I don’t. I casually dated a couple guys when I was in college, but nothing serious.”

“Can I ask another personal question?”

“Sure!”

“Are you a virgin?”

The butterflies in your stomach immediately start in, your face turning beet red as you attempt to compose yourself to answer his question, “y-yes… I am. I guess you could say I’m picky. I want my first time to be with someone special.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon smile at you before focusing his attention back on the kitchen cabinets, “there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart.”

Him calling you sweetheart was nothing new, you had gotten used to the nickname but this time, he said it with very clear intention and it shot straight into you, causing your clit to pulse in arousal. You try your best to ignore it.

“Can I safely assume you’re not a virgin?” you ask him, trying your best to just focus on painting the wall.

Leon chuckles, clearly amused by your question, “no, I’m definitely not. You could say I’m quite experienced in the matter.”

You weren’t surprised, especially considering Leon is 15 years older than you, a fact you often forgot because Leon was just so easy to talk to and get along with. Your mind begins to wander, imagining Leon being the one to take your virginity, how good he must be in bed with all the experience he has. You immediately shake the thought, ashamed you’re thinking such lewd thoughts when he’s right there. In an attempt to distract yourself, you look around the kitchen as you roll paint onto the wall, your eyes settling on a calendar Leon has hanging on one of the walls, which jogs your memory of a town event coming up.

“Has anyone told you about our annual Harvest Festival?” you ask, turning your attention back over to Leon.

“No they haven’t. What’s that?”

“It’s more like a carnival than anything, it’s an event we’ve had going in town since… 1947 I think… 40 years now, just celebrating the harvest and the coming of fall. There’s carnival rides, livestock and most importantly, food. You should check it out if you get a chance. It’s the last full week of October.”

“Maybe we can go together and you can show me all there is to see,” Leon replies as he hoists another cabinet onto the wall.

Your heart skips a beat at his response, “i-if you want to go together… we certainly can.”

“I’d love to go with you.”

“O-Ok…!”

Leon finishes getting the cabinet up, brushing his hands together before looking at his watch, then to you, “let’s stop for lunch, sweetheart.”

You finish painting the section of the wall you were working on before looking over at Leon, giving him a nod of acknowledgement as you set down the paint roller. You watch as Leon grabs stuff out of the fridge to make sandwiches: bread, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, onion and what had to be the rarest roast beef lunch meat you’d ever seen. Despite that, Leon made killer sandwiches, so you always look forward to having lunch with him.

Plus you were, you know, having lunch with Leon.

He sets the sandwich stuff down on a clean spot of the kitchen counter, turning to you, “go ahead and get comfortable in the dining room. I’ll bring the sandwiches in when they’re done.”

“Sounds good, I’m just going to hit the bathroom first, though,” you reply as you walk out of the kitchen.

You pass through the dining room, out into a hallway, you walk by what you assume is the basement door on your way to the bathroom. You do your business and come back out, noticing on your way out that the basement door is padlocked shut.

“That’s odd,” you say to yourself as you stop and look at the padlock.

You look around the door but you don’t see any sign of the key, not even on the small table that’s next to the door, which is even more odd. You then make your way back to the dining room, where Leon is already eating his sandwich, yours set in the other seat at the small dining table.

“Why’s the basement door padlocked?” you ask as you take a seat at the table.

Leon finishes chewing, nodding in acknowledgement of your question before he speaks, “there’s a lot of personal stuff down there, files and junk. Because I used to work for the government, there’s some classified files down there, too. I keep it locked just so that stuff stays safe.”

“Ah ok, that makes sense, sorry for prying. I just happened to notice it when I walked by, that’s all,” you reply before taking a bite of your sandwich.

“No need to apologize, it’s only natural for you to be curious.”

You take this quiet moment eating lunch together to really admire Leon, but discreetly. Today, he is wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt, which only accentuates his muscular body. Your favorite part of him, however, had to be those beautiful blue eyes. You constantly find yourself lost in them when you talk to him.

He suddenly makes eye contact with you, giving you a playful smirk when he notices you checking him out. You squirm in your seat, your heart racing as his ocean gaze seems to peer straight into your soul. There is no denying it now: you are hopelessly in love with Leon Kennedy.

“Mom, Dad! I’m home!” you call out as you walk into the house from the door that leads to the garage.

Your mother looks over at you from the kitchen sink as she does the dishes, “hey there, sweetie! How was your day?”

“It was good!” you reply as you hang up your purse and denim jacket in a small closet next to the garage door, “I painted some of the kitchen walls while Leon got the new cabinets up.”

“Hmph!” you hear your father from the living room where he’s sitting in his recliner, watching the news.

You watch your mother let out a heavy sigh as she shakes her head. Looking to you, she mouths ‘ignore him’ before focusing her attention back on doing the dishes.

“It smells amazing in here, what are you making for dinner, Mom?”

“Pork roast with potatoes, onions and carrots, sweetie. Figured that’d be a nice meal for a crisp day like today. Go ahead and relax, sweetie, I’ll call you down when dinner’s ready!”

About an hour and a half later, true to her word, your mother calls you down for dinner. At first, you all eat dinner in silence as your father reads the newspaper. An ad for the annual Harvest Festival catches your eye, reminding you of your conversation with Leon earlier that day.

“I was telling Leon about the Harvest Festival today,” you say, pointing out the ad in the newspaper.

“Oh, that’s right! Is he going to go, you think?” your mother asks.

“I think we’re actually going to go together,” you reply, your cheeks immediately start to turn pink as you shift in your seat.

“So, what? Are you seeing him now, is that what this is about?” your father growls, his eyes glaring at you.

“Wait-- what? No!”

“How old is he?” your father asks, his tone still angry.

“He’s… 36…” you reply, trying to avoid your father’s gaze.

“And you’re 21. Absolutely not, you’re not going with him and that’s final. In fact, you’re going to call him right now and tell him you quit--”

“Mick, you’re being ridiculous!” your mother cuts him off, slamming her fork down onto the table.

“I’m trying to protect our daughter! There’s a 15 year difference between them, that’s not acceptable!” your father argues back.

“Mick we’re 10 years apart, how’s that any different? She’s an adult, she can make her own decisions. How many times do I have to drill that into your thick skull, Mick?”

Your father grumbles, angrily stabbing his fork into the pork roast and taking a bite, aggressively chewing.

Your mom shakes her head, looking back over at you, “I’m sorry sweetheart. You absolutely can go to the festival with Leon,” your mother looks back over at your father, narrowing her eyes at him, “right, Mick?”

You watch your father roll his eyes before responding, “yes, dear…”

A couple days go by after you got into that argument with your father, but thankfully it’s business as usual. You wake up early as usual, getting yourself dressed and eating breakfast before you head out the door to go to Leon’s house. As you drive down Hemlock Drive, you notice the bursts of color on the trees changing into their autumn colors. It wasn’t quite peak foliage yet, you reckon about another week or so before that happens.

You park your car in its usual spot in front of Leon’s house, climbing out and approaching the front door. You simply open the front door and walk inside; Leon had told you that you were always welcome and didn’t need to knock. Upon walking in, you see Leon’s got his leather jacket on and that he’s packing a backpack.

“Whatcha doin’?” you ask, trying to look to see what Leon is up to.

“Good morning, sweetheart! Figured we’d do something different today; you deserve a break for working so hard,” he replies as he continues packing the backpack.

“Like… what?”

“I was thinking we could do the Basin trail today, especially since the fall colors are starting to pop up. I’ve heard people in town talk about it and wanted to see it for myself.”

You swallow hard, your anxiety immediately heightened, “you… do know there’s something in the mountains that’s been attacking hikers… right?”

Leon stops, turning to you, giving you a confident smirk before opening one side of his jacket to reveal a gun holster hanging from his torso with a 9mm handgun tucked inside.

“I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

You give him a nervous nod, “i-if you say so…”

Leon gives you a reassuring smile before returning his attention back to finishing packing the backpack.

“There, bags are all packed and ready to go. I even made us sandwiches so we can have a little picnic in the mountains, doesn’t that sound nice?” Leon asks as he zips up the bag before handing it to you.

You grab the backpack, slinging it onto your back as you watch Leon grab the other backpack off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder as he gives you a wink, “ready to go, sweetheart?”

You follow him back outside, watching as he locks up.

“Are we taking your bike?” you ask as you look over to his motorcycle.

“No, we’ll be taking the Jeep,” he replies as he walks off the porch, turning to go to his Jeep parked on the side of the house; you follow close behind him.

He walks up to the passenger’s side door, opening it for you. You climb inside, slipping the backpack off your back and setting it onto the floor of the Jeep, as Leon climbs into the driver’s seat, putting on his seat belt. He turns the ignition and the Jeep comes alive with a low purr as you put on your own seat belt.

“I hope Metallica is ok,” Leon says to you, smirking at you as he shifts the Jeep into first gear and starts driving.

As if on queue, ‘Master of Puppets’ begins to play. Metal isn’t exactly your thing, but the tune is undeniably catchy. As Leon drives you down Hemlock, you watch, almost hypnotically, as he shifts the Jeep from one gear to the next. The first thing you notice is you feel every single bump in this road; you find yourself grabbing onto the Jeep’s roll bar above your head to steady yourself. You think you hear Leon chuckle under the loud purr of the Jeep.

Once on the main road, the ride was a little more steady, but not by much, you reckon that is just how Jeeps ride since this is your first time in one. Your gaze shifts from Leon’s hand on the stick shift, to out your window, watching the pops of color in the trees pass by, the sun finally cresting over the mountains. You suddenly feel Leon’s hand caress your thigh, causing you to jump a little as you look back over at him. He gives you a playful wink, his hand returning to the stick shift.

Before long, he pulls into the trailhead for the Basin trail. The Basin is a rock formation formed by thousands of years of water running through it, first formed during the ice age; the erosion from the water making a natural, crystal clear pool. Parking the Jeep, he climbs out, putting on his backpack as he walks over to the passenger’s side, opening your door and letting you out. Setting out onto the trail, the two of you walk side by side, taking in the scenery as the two of you make small talk about what’s the next agenda in Leon’s house, the weather and even the upcoming Harvest Festival. You do mention your argument with your father, causing Leon to shake his head.

It doesn’t take long to come upon the Basin itself, you hear Leon let out a soft ‘wow’ as he approaches the large fence blocking off public access to the pool of water. You stand next to him, leaning up against the fence to admire the Basin. You’d seen it before, but it had been years since the last time you saw it; it is still just as beautiful and mystifying as you remember.

“Cool, huh?” you ask.

“Very,” Leon replies, as he tries to nonchalantly reach over and snake his arm around your waist.

You feel yourself blush, but you let him, feeling him pull you closer to him as wraps his arm around your waist. For a few minutes, the two of you admire the Basin in silence, the sound of the water rushing in creating a sense of clarity. There is no doubt in your mind that you love Leon, and you’re starting to sense he feels the same way, or at the very least is attracted to you. From the corner of your eye you see Leon turn to you, a subtle smile forming on his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asks.

At first you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly, it takes you a moment to process it but when you do, your heart immediately starts racing. Turning to him, your face undoubtedly beet red.

You swallow hard, working up the courage to answer him, “y-yes… you can.”

Leon doesn’t hesitate, he shifts himself so that he has you pinned to the fence with his body, his hands gently cupping your face as he leans down, pressing his perfect lips against yours. It doesn’t take long for him to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping in to explore your mouth. You do the same, your tongues dancing around each other as Leon’s hands trail from your face, over your torso before finally resting on your waist. Meanwhile, your hands run through his blonde hair as you softly moan into the kiss.

The sound of a wolf’s whistle startles both of you. Leon stops, turning around to find two college aged boys, undoubtedly from Plymouth State University, staring at the two of you, snickering before they move on, walking in the direction that you two had come from. Leon lets out a frustrated sigh.

“We should get going, we can continue this later,” he purrs, looking back down at you and winking.

You nod as the two of you walk away from the Basin, Leon’s arm once again wrapping itself around your waist to keep you close. The two of you hike in silence, enjoying the sounds of nature. Unfortunately, the moment is soured when a powerful odor hits you like a ton of bricks, stopping you in your tracks.

“Do you smell that, Leon?”

“I do… I unfortunately know that smell anywhere. It’s the smell of death.”

You pace around, trying to ascertain which direction the smell is coming from, “you don’t think… it’s one of the hikers… do you?”

“Could be a large animal, but we better check it out, in case it is one of the missing hikers. I think it’s coming from this way,” he says, gesturing off the trail.

As you both start heading off the trail, into the woods with you taking the lead. The odor is becoming stronger and stronger as you go further away from the trail, a clear sign you were heading in the right direction. Coming up over a small incline, you see what you were hoping not to see at the bottom, a person. You immediately cover your mouth and nose with your shirt, the stench at this point overwhelming. As much as you don’t want to, you get closer, being careful not to slip and fall going down the incline. Leon catches up with you, still following behind you.

As you get closer, you can see the person is lying on their side, their skin an eerie white. From what you can see, the person has bite marks on their neck, much like what was described on the other hiker that was found. You look all around the person for anything that can identify them, your eyes finally settling on a ring that’s on their middle finger, your heart immediately sinking. You recognize the ring as your class ring, which can only mean one thing:

It’s Nate Dion.

His plan couldn’t have worked out any better. Not only did he successfully win over her affections, which he wasn’t concerned about, but stumbling upon the body in the woods was no accident. He led her to the body. He wanted her to see what he is capable of, how powerful he is, how he can provide for her. Obviously, she doesn’t know this, not yet anyway. Now is not the right time to show her, or to give her his gift.

Unsurprisingly, she threw herself at Leon upon the realization that it was the chief’s son. And, of course, he would hold her, smirking down at the body as she cried into his chest. Now, they were back in his Jeep, driving back into Oakvale to the police station. He looks over at her, seeing how she lays her head against the passenger’s side window, her arms wrapped around herself. His jacket is draped over her shoulders. Reaching over, he rubs his hand on her thigh to reassure her. She places her hand on top of his, squeezing it in acknowledgement.

“It’ll be ok, angel, we’re almost at the police station,” he says to her.

He turns his attention back onto the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel like a vice as he struggles to get his primal urges to breed under control. Finally he pulls up on the Oakvale police station, parking in one of the spots and killing the engine.

“I’ll go in and let them know what we found, angel--”

“I’m coming with you. Please don’t leave me alone, Leon…”

Looking over at her, he gives her a gentle smile, “of course, let’s head inside together, then.”

He gets out of the Jeep, walking around to let her out of the passenger’s side, immediately wrapping his arm around her in a protective gesture as they both walk inside the police station. Both of them walk up to the reception desk.

“We need to see Chief Dion,” Leon commands, resting his free arm on the counter as he glares down at the receptionist.

The receptionist pushes her glasses up off the bridge of her nose, “I’m sorry, Chief Bob’s currently in a meeting--”

“Please! It’s urgent, we found Nate…” his angel suddenly blurts out, the panic clear in her voice.

“What!” the receptionist exclaims, looking over at her, “is he…?”

“Yes, he’s dead, just like the other hiker they found the other day,” Leon replies.

The receptionist immediately picks up the phone, dialing a number, “Chief, Leon Kennedy and Mick’s daughter are here, they’re saying they found Nate…”

The receptionist hangs up the phone, looking at his angel, then to Leon, before continuing, “he’s expecting you, please go through the door on the left over there. His office is the first one on the right.

“Thank you,” Leon replies before he walks over to the door in question, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders.

Upon walking through the door, Leon finds the Chief’s office, walking in with his angel in tow. As soon as they enter, his angel lifts her head to address the Chief.

“I’m sorry, Chief… he’s… he’s…” his angel begins, but then immediately breaks down sobbing.

Leon wraps both his arms around her, trying to comfort her, “he’s dead, Chief Dion.”

“God…” Chief Dion says, looking to the floor, his eyes darting back and forth in disbelief before looking back up at Leon, “if I pull out a map, can you point out where you found him?”

Before Leon can even answer, his angel replies, “I can Chief…”

“R-Right… I’ll be right back then.”

Leon watches as Chief Dion leaves the office. He coaxes his angel over to a bench on the opposite side of his desk, sitting himself and her down as he holds her close, running his hand through her hair to love on her; to entangle her into his web even more. Leon buries his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent deep before placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

Before long, Chief Dion comes back out with a map of the trails in Franconia Notch, rolling it open to show his angel, “sweetheart, can you point on the map where you found Nate.”

Leon watches her turn her attention to the map; she ponders for a moment before pointing to a spot just off the Basin trail heading West, “right about here…”

“Off the Basin trail?” Chief Dion says, perplexed as he takes the map, looking at it with an eyebrow raised, “how on Earth did he end up over there?”

Shit Leon cursed mentally, he hadn’t thought about where he had originally grabbed him from, no matter, it’ll be fine.

Leon watches Chief Dion grab his transmitter, pushing the button to speak into it.

“Attention all units, I need Police, Fish and Game and EMT at the Basin trailhead immediately. Nate has been located. He’s… he’s dead…”

Chief Dion turns his attention back to Leon, “would both of you be able to stay here until I get back so we can collect a statement?”

“Of course, Chief, not a problem at all,” Leon replies, giving the Chief his best, kind smile.

“Thank you, I won’t be too long. Hang tight,” Chief Dion replies as he leaves the office, heading out the door to the receptionist area.

Leon wraps his arms around his angel even tighter, adjusting himself so that she could relax in his embrace. He watches her intently as her breasts rise and fall with each breath she takes. He can’t help but smile down at her.

Once we’re done here, I’ll bring her back home, and make her a nice dinner. Then I’ll continue where I left off earlier. It shouldn’t be very difficult to get her into my bedroom and--

“WHERE IS HE?!” a male voice shouts from the receptionist area, breaking Leon’s thoughts.

“Mick, you can’t go back there! Get back--!”

The door suddenly bursts open, an irate man charging through and coming into Chief Dion’s office.

“You…” the man practically growls as he looks down at Leon, “you son of a bitch!”

“Dad, what are you--”

“What were you planning on doing to my daughter?! Lure into the woods so you can have your way with her and then ditch her somewhere?!”

Leon rolls his eyes as he stands up, coming face to face with his angel’s father, Mick, noting how his face is red in rage, “what are you talking about?”

“Working on the house my ass! What the fuck are you doing dragging my daughter out into the woods alone with you?!” Mick continues, “I knew something wasn’t right about you!”

“Dad come on, please stop!”

“No! I am doing what’s best for you, this guy needs to fucking go!”

Mick suddenly comes at Leon swinging, landing a couple punches into Leon’s stomach before Leon is able to dodge them. Leon is unphased by the punches Mick did manage to land. Mick continues his assault, one punch missing and going straight through the sheet rock in Chief Dion’s office. Mick takes a second to shake his hand off before he continues to launch punches at Leon. It is taking everything in Leon not to snap and attack Mick with the full force of his abilities.

Leon, finally having enough of Mick’s mindless flailing of his arms, curls up his fist and punches him directly in the center of his face, breaking Mick’s nose instantly. Leon watches as blood runs out from his nostrils, his pupils dilating as the smell of blood goes straight to his head. He can feel his fangs descend and he fights off the urge to feed as Mick tries to get his hands around Leon’s neck. Leon reaches up, trying to grasp Mick’s hands to pry them off, however he’s too inebriated by the sight and smell of blood to be able to pry him off.

Chief Dion and several officers come through the door, the officers grabbing Mick from behind and managing to get his hands behind his back to handcuff him. Leon rubs his neck with one of his hands, looking down at his other hand, seeing faint signs of his black veins. He’s able to finally get himself under control, the black veins disappearing without a trace and feeling his fangs retract.

“What the hell is your problem, Mick?!” Chief Dion exclaims, his voice filled with disappointment.

“I am just protecting my daughter,” Mick replies, his angry gaze focused on Leon.

In that moment, Leon knows one thing for certain:

The father needs to go.

Part 4

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

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jessybarnes · 8 months

Text

Fixer Upper

Pairing - Mechanic!Jensen x Single Mom!Reader

Rating - 18+ Only! Minors DNI

Tags - Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, SMUT, broke down car, walking alone on a deserted road, being a single mom, mentions of an ex, mentions of abuse, NSFW gifs, unprotected sex, reader on top, Jensen on top, and I think that’s it, but let me know if I need to add more to the tags.

Word Count - 2.4k

Beta - @winecatsandpizza

Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly

A/N - This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this blog. I hope you enjoy! :)

“Dammit!”

You slammed the driver’s door to your car and kicked it for good measure. A new car was definitely a need, but who could afford one in this economy? Much less a tow truck and a mechanic. To top it all off, your AAA membership you had expired a month ago. Part of you wanted to just set the hunk of metal on fire, but that would make you feel better for all of five minutes before you’d really be shit out of luck.

The afternoon sun reflected off the hood as you reached for the release latch. As soon as you lifted it up, hot grey smoke poured out making you cough.

“Well, that’s just fuckin’ perfect. Icing on the damn cake.”

You put your hands on your hips and turned to look at the long stretch of highway that went in both directions. Not only was your car broken down on the side of the road, but the nearest town was at least twenty minutes in both directions. To make things even more annoying, your phone had died about ten minutes before your car did so it looked like the only thing left to do was to start walking.

Grabbing your keys and purse, you locked the car and started walking along the shoulder of the road. At least it was nice out, not a cloud in the sky, and fairly warm. The faint feeling of a summer breeze blew strands of hair out behind you as your car became smaller and smaller in the distance. A fence came into view after about fifteen minutes of walking, and if you were being honest with yourself, it was pretty inviting.

You brushed one of the wooden planks off and plopped down on it with a sigh. Maybe your Mother was right, maybe you should have moved back in with her until you could get back on your feet. But no, you just had to be stubborn and prove to her that you could make it on your own as a single mother. Swallowing your pride wasn’t something that came easily for you. So, you’d do what you always do and find a way to fix whatever was broken.

Just as you were about to get up and start walking again, a red Chevy truck came into view. You had never thought about hitchhiking, but the thought of it driving past seemed worse than the former. Your hands waved to get the driver’s attention and then gave him room to pull off on the shoulder of the road. What you weren’t expecting was the most gorgeous man you have ever seen get out and approach you.

“Everything okay, ma’am?”

Your mind was still reeling from the fact that this man was talking to you when you realized he’d asked you a question.

“Umm yeah, I uhh…my car broke down and my phone died so umm…I was just going to walk until I found civilization.”

A look of concern flashed across his face as he looked around.

“How long have you been out here walking? I don’t see a car anywhere.”

You shrugged like it was no big deal and gestured in the direction of your unreliable hunk of metal.

“Cars a ways that way. I’ve been walking for maybe twenty minutes? I don’t know. I kinda lost track of time.”

The man shook his head and looked firmly down at you.

“Yeah, I’m not letting a pretty lady walk alone on this stretch of road. At least let me take you and your car back to my shop. You look like you could use a break.”

Did you die and go to Heaven? There is no way that you got this lucky. The one car you see on this deserted road turns out to be a mechanic and he’s this good-looking? Yeah, no, things like this didn’t happen to you.

“Thank you, sir. I don’t have much money, but I can give you what I have for gas.”

He shook his head again and opened the passenger side door.

“Please, call me Jensen. I don’t want your money, sweetheart. It sounds like you need it more than I do.”

“Thanks, and you can call me Y/N.”

You smiled at him and climbed into the cab of his truck. The ride to your car and back to his shop took less time than you anticipated. You quickly found yourself warming up to Jensen. He radiated kindness and you felt like you’d known him for years. You told him you were a single mother, and how your daughter was staying with your parents until you got yourself moved into your new apartment. Mentions of your ex came up, but you tried to avoid delving too much into your past life with Tanner. He’d been abusive, and you pushed those memories to the back of your mind at all costs.

Jensen pulled his truck into a big open yard and you noticed an arched sign that read Singer’s Auto stood high above the entrance. He lowered your car to the ground and unhooked it from the hitch before leading you inside.

“Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got water, coffee, sweet tea, whiskey, rum, and any type of soda you can imagine.”

For the first time all day, your smile met your eyes. This man was too good to be true. If only you could be in a relationship with something this amazing. Jensen had to be either gay or unavailable because there was no way he was single with a personality like this. Let alone his looks.

“I’d like some sweet tea, please. Thank you so much for doing all this. I’m sure you’ve got a family to get home to, and the last thing you probably wanted to do today was help a hitchhiker and her piece of shit car.”

The confused look he gave you made you instantly regret your words. Here was this man going out of his way to help you, and your brain-to-mouth filter probably just fucked everything up. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t appreciate everything.

“Don’t get me wrong, Jensen. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I just have this mindset where I wait for the other shoe to fall. I’ve never really done well in the relationship department, and I’ve always been let down eventually. You’ve only just met me and you don’t need this kind of turmoil. I should probably go. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

It took a moment for Jensen to get his bearings, but once he did you felt his hand gently grab your wrist. He slowly spun you around to face him, and his eyes bore into yours with a fire you hadn’t seen on a man before.

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart wait a minute. Can’t a guy just help a beautiful lady out without her thinking she’s being a burden? Y/N, listen, I’m not doing this because I feel like I have to. I’m doing this because I want to. There’s just something about you, something that draws me in, and I can’t seem to put a finger on it.”

For a few minutes, you both were silent. Staring into each other’s eyes with such intensity made you want to look away, but something stronger kept your gaze locked onto his. Ever so slowly, Jensen closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss you. His kiss ignited a fire in your core that had been dormant for as long as you could remember.

When he pulled away, his pupils were just as lust blown as your own. Soon you were pushed against the nearest wall, his work uniform becoming disheveled along with your outfit.

“I don’t know what it is Jensen, but I have never wanted someone so much in my life. I only just met you, and the thoughts I’m having scare me, but at the same time it’s thrilling.”

Your hands came to rest on his muscular chest as his hands cupped your face.

“It scares the shit out of me too, Y/N, but I really want this,”

Jensen admitted as he continued to devour your body with his eyes.

“Do you want this as much as I do? If you don’t, we can stop. I’ll fix your car and we can both be on our way. If you’d let me, though, I’d love to show you what it’s like to have a real man, Y/N.”

Instead of answering him, you pressed your lips firmly against his. Immediately his arms traveled down your small frame and came to rest on the back of your thighs. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. His clothed erection pressed against your pussy making a small moan escape your mouth.

Jensen began leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He grabbed one of your breasts in each hand and began to massage them gingerly, his thumbs grazing over your nipples making them harden instantly.

“You have entirely too many clothes on Y/N.”

You smirked and stepped away, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. It sent heat straight to your core seeing the effect you had on Jensen. His eyes roamed your body like a starving man, and the arousal in his pants was hard to miss.

“You know, I’m no expert on lovemaking, but I’m pretty sure it’s easier to do when you’re naked, Jensen.”

A low growl escaped his throat as he stalked toward you like he was a predator. He picked you up and flung you over his shoulder making you squeal.

“Jensen! Put me down! Where are we going?!”

“Bedroom.”

The one simple word held many promises as he climbed the stairs with ease. Seconds later you were placed gingerly on the comforter of his bed. He only left you for a moment to turn the light off and shut the door, and then he was on you again. His calloused hands pushed your shirt off your shoulders and slowly pulled it off each of your arms.

Even though he was undressing you agonizingly slow, you relished in the fact that a man was paying this much attention to you. Your ex was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy who was only interested in getting off before going back to his video games. Your mind completely forgot about your ex as soon as Jensen pulled down your bra exposing your breasts, his lips closed over one of your hardened nipples greedily sucking into his mouth.

“Mmmm Jay … Fuck that feels so good”

He moved to the other nipple paying it as much attention before leaving a trail of kisses down to your navel.

“You’re so beautiful Y/N”

Jensen made quick work of the rest of your clothes before taking his off as well. If you thought he was gorgeous with clothes on, he was even more glorious without them. Perfect was the only description appropriate for the man that stood before you.

“C’mere Jensen. I won’t bite.”

You winked at him invitingly, and he let out this full-body laugh that was contagious.

“Y/N I don’t know if I believe that.”

He climbed onto the bed and positioned his body over yours before pulling you in for another kiss. His tongue swept your lower lip asking for permission which you granted almost immediately. Your body arched up, his cock hard as a rock pressing against your leg.

“Please … need you.”

Jensen smirked against your pulse point, grinding himself along your slick folds.

“Gonna have to be a little more specific Princess. Where do you need me exactly?”

If you could form a coherent thought you’d make a smart-ass comment, but right now you barely knew your name. Much less able to speak in full sentences.

“Fuck me, Jay! Wanna feel your cock inside me. Please!”

Jensen lined himself up and slowly thrust inside you, his cock filling you up inch by inch was almost enough to make you cum right then. It had been a while since you’d been with a man, and he hadn’t prepped you.

“Unnghh fuck … you’re so wet and tight for me, Y/N.”

Your nails dug into his biceps, his forehead resting on yours as you both got used to each other.

“Make love to me, Jay.”

Ever so slowly, he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His moans were barely heard over your cries of need. The steady rhythm of his cock hitting your sweet spot made the coil in your lower belly tighter and tighter. You wouldn’t last long with him like this, and you wanted desperately to make him cum with you.

“Let me ride you, Jensen.”

The look he gave you was almost primal. In a matter of seconds, he had flipped over onto his back and helped you sink down onto his throbbing length.

“Christ, Y/N, I’m not gonna last like this.”

Using the muscles in your thighs, you rose up off his cock and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Neither will I, Jay. Want you to cum with me.”

His hands held onto your sides as you began to ride him. His hips rose to meet yours, thrusting his cock deeper into your soaked cunt, and pretty soon he was completely in control again. Your cries echoed off the walls as your climax neared.

“J-Jay! I … I’m so close baby! Please … make me cum!”

One of his hands left your side and began rubbing circles around your clit.

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

Seconds later, he felt your walls tighten around his cock, as you both fell over the edge together. Your chest heaved as you aid beside him on the bed. He covered you up before cradling your face and kissing you sweetly.

Jensen pulled away, his smile met his eyes as he looked at you with nothing but love.

“So, how about some sweet tea?”

#j snow writes #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ross ackes x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ross ackles x you #jensen x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ross ackles x y/n #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles smut #jensen ross ackles smut #jensen smut

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